Page 21 of Britta & the Beach Boy
“Just yours truly there,” Archie points to Dex. “And his competitor. Their heat was called off and now officials have called the day.”
My eyes bounce from Archie back to Dex. I hadn’t added sharks to the whole surfing equation until just now, and I’m seeing Dex in a whole new light. That’s no small thing, swimming with sharks. “Did you see it? Was it close to you?”
“Did you have to punch it?” Stella asks excitedly. “I just watched a video of a surfer punching a shark in the middle of a competition.”
“That’d be Mick Fanning. That story is legendary.” Archie’s lip twitches like he might smile.
Stella’s excitement ratchets up from a five to a seven—which is around eleven out of ten on a normal-person range—when she faces Archie. “Do you know him? You’ve got to know him, right? I mean, you’re both famous.”
Archie’s face cracks wide open. And Stella’s done what Stella does best. She’s won him over.
“I’m not that famous,” Archie says, his cheeks going pink.
“Whatever. I’m totally star struck, and I work for Georgia Beck—it’s not like I’m unfamiliar with stars,” Stella gushes. “I can’t believe Georgia and Cassie never mentioned Liam DexterandArchie Forsythe were their neighbors. I mean, come on! Who doesn’t brag about that?”
“I’m guessing someone who’s already famous, like Georgia,” I answer, because I texted them both the same question yesterday after we discovered who Dex is. “Or someone like Cassie, who grew up in LA and has arrested a few celebrities.”
“That’s no excuse. Georgia knows I want to grow my business, and I need more than one celebrity who I’m related to if I’m going to prove myself.” Stella turns to Archie. “If you or Dex need any help with your social media accounts while I’m here, I’m offering my services for free—mostly. You could pass my name onto Frankie and Rhys, if you’re happy with my work. And you will be.”
Archie allows a laugh to escape. “I don’t have social media, but I’ll keep you in mind for Dex’s accounts. And I can introduce you to White Lightning. He’s probably the biggest star here today.”
At Stella’s confused expression, Archie points to an open tent behind us where a man is sitting at a high table talking to a woman holding a microphone. “Mick Fanning—the guy who punched the shark. White Lightning is his nickname. That’s him right there, being interviewed.”
Stella rises on her tiptoes for a better look, then takes Archie by the arm and drags him to the tent where other people milling around immediately say hi to him.
I turn my attention to Dex. “You didn’t tell me your name is Liam.”
“Ah, no one calls me that but my mum.” He looks a little sheepish, which is completely adorable.
“Your mum and me, from now on.” That’s my sorry attempt to keep our attraction in check. I have to maintain some control here, what with his bare chest and butt-hugging wetsuit working to lure me closer.
Dex chuckles, then rakes a hand through his wet hair. When he pulls it out, a section of curls folds in on itself, like even his hair is one with the waves.
Which is what I’ve learned about Dex over the past twenty-four hours. Since being back on tour, commentator after commentator has mentioned how Dex is “one with the wave” in a way he never used to be.
I’m not entirely sure what that means, but I’ve watched enough footage to recognize that what Dex does on the waves is riveting. I can’t get enough of the videos I’ve scoured the internet for, and I couldn’t wait to see him surf in real life.
“I’m sorry we missed you surf,” I tell him.
“I’m not sorry you missed it. I crumbled.”
“Crumbled?”
“Lost my focus.”
“So, is that it? Is the competition over? Will you get another chance, or is this shark territory now?” I stop myself from making aWest Side Storyjoke about the Sharks and Jets. Mom loved musicals, so I’ve seen them all, but I’ve had more than one joke fall flat when no one under sixty understands my reference.
“The ocean is always shark territory, but the judges and safety team obviously have to be careful. They’ll keep us out a day ortwo until they’re sure there aren’t any aggressive sharks close by, then the competition will start back up.” Dex says this with a nonchalance that could only come from spending more time in the ocean than outside of it.
“What qualifies as a less ‘aggressive’ shark? The ones that only nibble on you? They take a limb or two instead of eating all of you?” I shiver as a breeze wisps across my shoulders.
Dex laughs. “The ones that aren’t looking for their dinner.” He nods his head toward a portable building. “Come on. I’ve got a jumper you can put on.”
I follow him to a room full of surfboards and lockers, where he pulls a sweatshirt from a locker and hands it to me.
“Oh,thisis a jumper. I didn’t think it would be this chilly on the beach.” I slip the hoodie over my head, then glance down at the Rip Tide logo across my chest. “Are you supposed to wear this? You know, because they’re your sponsor?”
Dex’s eyebrows go up. Maybe impressed I know this.
