Page 8 of Unfinished Summer

“Impressive. Not just a fair-weather surfer then.”

“Nope. I’m Jayce. In case you want to call me something other than surfer.”

“Very well, Jayce. I’m Zennor.” She holds out her hand and waits for me to shake it. “Nice to meet you.”

Our hot chocolates are delivered, and I don’t miss the little wink the woman gives to Zennor. Maybe she likes me and mentioned me to her? I sit a little taller at that thought and run my eyes over Zennor.

She’s switched her cut-offs for regular jeans today and has a surf-brand hoody on. Her dark brown hair is twisted up on her head again. But it’s that smile and her dark eyes that do me in.

“So, you work here. Does that make you a local?” I ask.

“Yep. Born and raised.”

“But it’s a weekday. Don’t you have school?” I drink some of the chocolate.

“Just finished my GCSE exams, so no school. Same for you, I guess?”

“Yeah, although A-Levels.”

“And you’re certainly not a local, so holiday?”

“Yep. Family holiday before I head off.”

“Travelling?” she asks, and I notice her eyes light up.

“Yes. I’ve been working for nearly two years to fund the trip, although nothing’s set. I want to be able to stay or move on when I want.”

“Sounds novel. Backpacking then?”

“Well, with a surfboard.”

She nods as if it makes sense. “Look, I better get to work.” She drinks a gulp of her chocolate.

I look around at the almost empty shop.

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Working here. Like most days.” She sighs, but she doesn’t sound bored.

“All day? What about the evening? Maybe you could show me around this place?” I want to make it sound casual, but worry I just came off as lame.

She smiles at me, just like the first time we met.

“Are you asking me out on a date?”

“Maybe. Or maybe we could just catch some waves before your shift?” I counter, not wanting her to turn me down flat.

“Ahh, well, that’s a no.”

“What?” I look at her, confused.

“I don’t surf.” She seems to find this amusing, as she’s half-laughing as she admits it.

“I’m sorry, you live on the beach in Cornwall, and you don’t surf? Are you frightened of the water?”

“No, nothing like that. I just don’t want to get tossed about by nature, thanks.”

“Okay, that’s just a tragedy. You have all of this on your doorstep.” I point out towards the window and see the rain streaking down the pane. “Right, well, today is not the perfect example.”

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