Page 25 of Beyond The Break

“So, when are you going to ask me about why I was snooping through your car?” The question catches me off guard, but I can’t deny that it was on my to-discuss list for the night.

“Why were you looking through my car?” I ask, curiously.

“I thought I might find something that gives me more of an idea of who you are, for the campaign.”

“And did you?”

She pauses for a moment, eyes flickering to the visor above her, before nodding slowly and sipping her milkshake while she avoids eye contact. I roll my eyes at her sudden shyness and lower the passenger side visor to investigate. To my surprise, a photo strip of Meghan and I from last year falls into her lap. I reach over to pick it up, my fingers grazing her thigh, causing her to release a small gasp. Satisfaction blossoms in my chest as I realize she’s just as affected by me as I am her.

I stare at the strip of photos for a while, remembering how happy I felt in that moment. I thought she was the one for me, despite what everyone else on the team was trying to tell me. I was blinded by love and didn’t see the real version of her lurking behind the nice girl persona she faked. I didn’t see it until the day of my accident.

Now everything feels empty, dark, pointless. My doctors have been trying to nudge me toward speaking with a professional about my feelings, but I left before I ever booked any appointments. I’m not ready to talk about my feelings yet, I still have questions I need answers to before I can do that.

I begin ripping up the photo strip while Eliana watches me silently. When I’m done, I dump the pieces into my empty cup,watching the leftover liquid soak them completely, ruining the images forever. I never want to see her face again.

“When did you two breakup?” Eliana asks.

“Six months ago.” I can see her mind working until realization dawns on her face and her big green eyes find mine again, rounding slightly.

“So, she was the big thing on your mind that was distracting you during the competition?”

“Something like that,” I answer, trying to remain vague.

She doesn’t need to know about what I saw that day. No one needs to know because it won’t change anything. I still got hurt, I still had to go through months of physio, I’m still here trying to prove to Gabriel that I deserve my spot on the team. Telling them would just drag them into my shit. So, I do what I’ve done for the last six months; I avoid the topic. My jeep purrs to life as I start it up and drive us back to The Shredder House.

NINE

ELIANA

Whoever inventedslow mornings needs to come to The Shredder House and teach Gabriel how it’s done. The sun is only just beginning to peek through the horizon, but the team is already out in the chilly ocean trying to get through an intense morning practice. Gabriel, clearly upset about the bar fight, seems to have instructed them with a nearly impossible task – master a new aerial maneuver to use in the next competition…which happens to be three days from now.

I’ve been avoiding him, scared he might fire me for being the reason the bar fight happened in the first place. I should’ve just sat with the girls and the lifeguards, or stayed with the boys by the pool table, instead of being off on my own last night. Guilt starts to build in my chest as I watch them struggling and shivering in the cold water while I sit on the dry sand, warm under my hoodie.

Because of me and my bad luck, they’re already suffering.

I squeeze my eyes shut, pushing the thought from my mind.

I should do them a favor and just leave.

As the guilt becomes unbearable, I attempt to distract myself by checking social media. I posted my first post to everysocial platform this morning, introducing myself to the teams’ followers. It’s doing well so far with the comments and likes growing by the minute. I had also posted a story asking them to make suggestions for content they want to see. I wasn’t expecting to get thousands of replies, but that’s exactly what happened. I decide to go through the answers tonight and begin planning the most requested content first.

As I scroll through my phone, Zale paddles to shore and runs up to his pile of belongings laying on the sand next to me, water dripping from him and onto my thigh and shoulder. I scoot away from the dripping water and look up at him as he gulps down a mouthful of his drink.

“Late night?” Zale grins.

“Not at all,” I reply dryly, “how mad do you think Gabriel is?” I ask quietly, but I swear I still see Gabriel bristle.

“Oh, he’s pissed.”

The anxious feeling in my chest grows heavier from his words.

I’m definitely losing my job.

“Zale, are you planning on standing out here all day? Or are you going to actually surf for once?” Gabriel shouts at him from the shore, waving his clipboard around hysterically. Zale drops his bottle on top of his towel, grumbling under his breath as he walks towards the water, picking up his surfboard along the way.

A gust of morning air blows my hair around and sends a chill down my spine. I pull my hood over my head, grateful that my sweats are fleece lined. Apparently, the weather is usually warm and some days scorching hot in Saltwater Springs, but all I’ve noticed is the morning chill that comes straight from the arctic.

I zoom in on Koa and begin snapping some photos, figuring I can’t go wrong with gathering shots of the team practicing for social media.

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