Page 13 of River
CHAPTER 4
The Beach
Noah
“Why are you in such a hurry?” Peter asked me when I dug around in my cornflakes and got up from the table with the bowl in my hand and my cheeks stuffed.
“I wanna see if they’re there.”
“Who? The Austrian twins?” Peter drowned a large glass of orange juice before wiping his mouth.
“No, that couple I met yesterday.”
“Oh, the Brits.”
“He was from Ireland, but yeah.”
Peter lifted his shoulders in a shrug and got up from the table. “All right, I’m a social guy. Lead the way to your new friends.”
Peter and I were roommates in the rented beach hut that I’d found advertised in a surfer community online. The house was small and somewhat primitive, but with a prime location. Peter had been here for two months already while I only arrived two weeks ago. It was rare for us to have an agenda. Our days were lazy, with hours on the water hunting for the perfect wave and nights partying with other backpackers on the beach or in bars.
“I told them to go to the spot in front of the monkey statue,” I said as we walked out of the house and grabbed our surfboards.
“Why?” Peter wrinkled his nose up. “Are they beginners?”
“They’re not surfers.”
“Then why are we meeting up with them?”
I turned my head to look at my friend, who was shorter than me by almost a full head. “Is there some rule that I can only make friends with surfers?”
“No, but…” He sped up to follow my long strides. “I’m confused. Why are we hurrying? There’s about a million tourists from England and Ireland. What’s so special about these two?”
I slowed my steps and fell into a more leisurely pace as I wondered about that too. I wasn’t the type to approach just any foreigner I saw, so why these two?
Her.
My brain replayed the moment I’d seen River standing in the bazaar. She’d been in her own bubble assessing the shawl in her hands, but to me, it had felt like watching a graceful and beautiful ballerina placed in a noisy tap dance performance. All the sounds from cars honking in the distance and people laughing and making bargains left and right. Yet, River had looked undisturbed by it all. As if she was an ethereal being, she stood peaceful, like she carried with her a sphere of protection from the rest of the world.
Seeing her had stopped me in my tracks. Unfortunately, the fascination hadn’t been mutual, which was easy to understand when she turned out to be with someone as handsome as Maximum.
God, he was a lucky man!
As Peter and I walked along the beach, we spotted the couple with eight local children. Maximum was on his knees, helping three little ones make a sandcastle, while River was in the water with five children that looked to be somewhere between nine to fourteen.
“What’s with all the children?” Peter asked.
“They volunteer at a local orphanage.”
“Ah, I see.”
We kept walking, the sand already dry and hot under our flip-flops.
Maximum was the first to spot us and stood up, brushing sand off his hands. “Good to see you again.”
“Morning.” I smiled.
“Parker, was it?” Maximum asked with a bright smile.
