Page 74 of Touch Me

She sits and folds her legs underneath her, turning toward me. “Why every day?”

“I enjoy it. It makes me feel... normal. For a bit, anyway.” I shrug off the admission like it’s no big deal. I’ve told her about my physical issues, but I never explained the chaos that goes on inside my head.

“So which is it? You enjoy it, or you do it because it makes you feel normal?”

“Can’t it be both?”

“I guess so.” She reaches into the cooler and grabs two beers.

I hesitate to grab the bottle from her. “I’m not sure that's a good idea before we surf.”

“I need some liquid courage, or I’m never going to do it.” She holds the bottle up near her face and tips it back and forth, teasing me with it. “You know you want one too.”

I chuckle and take the beer, needing some liquid courage myself.

Cassie buries her bottle in the sand, her eyes flicking to my face, and I turn to focus on the water. My mind screams with regret at letting out a minute detail that any journalist worth their salt would absorb and fiend for more info. I suddenly imagine her pulling out a notebook and pen and jotting down every juicy detail I divulge to analyze later—

“So tell me about feeling normal. What does that mean for you?”

Right on cue.

“I don’t think I’ve had enough alcohol for this conversation.” Adding a chuckle to keep the mood light, I hope my intention is still clear since I’m not ready to dissect this, especially with her. “I guess it just helps me focus. Anyway, slam that beer, and we’ll start your first lesson.”

The sun is setting, falling toward the horizon, and the sound of seagulls conversing in the distance is like a balm to my soul. The sun kissing my skin and the sand sifting through my toes is a craving I don’t satisfy nearly enough. If anything comes of this day, I hope Cassie at least finds comfort and calmness here, like I have.

Families pack up their beach gear and drag exhausted children through the already cooling sand. Dusting sand off myself, I stand to flatten an area for the surfboards, placing them parallel to each other before I lie belly down on my board.

“Ok, so first, you’re going to practice popping up from this position. This is how you paddle out. Then when you find a wave you like, you turn around, wait for me to tell you, and then you’re going to pop up like this.” I push my chest up with my arms and bring my knees up. I check my balance and then shift my weight to my legs. “It’s important to keep your knees bent and your center of gravity low. When the board shifts under you, let your knees absorb the change. Whether it’s up or down, your knees should be the only thing on your body moving. You can use your arms to balance, but your torso shouldn’t shift.” She chews her lip as she watches me demonstrate again. I try not to imagine what her plump flesh would feel like between my teeth as I’m mesmerized watching her. I stand and clear my throat. “You try it.”

Cassie lies on the board and fake paddles a few strokes before popping into a plank. I step behind her and push on one side of the board, causing it to tip over, and she rolls off with a huff.

“Keep your legs wider, or keep a knee down until you’re ready to move.”

She stands with a glare leveled at me, brushing sand off her hands and butt. “You could’ve said that in the beginning. You didn’t have to tip me over.”

“You need to learn to troubleshoot and correct your position. Do it again.”

She mumbles something that sounds like eitherbossypantsorjackass, but resumes her position on the board. I fight back a smile.

We repeat the same drill a few times, and she never falls again. We do the same with her in a crouching position to make sure she can use her knees to keep her balance.

“Good. Let’s try it in the shallow water.”

She tugs on her shirt and eyes the darkening horizon. “It’s getting dark. Is it safe to be out there?”

Reaching into my bag, I pull out a few sticks and snap them in my hands.

Her face spreads into a grin and she bounces on her toes. “Glow sticks?”

I tie one to each of the boards and hand her one on a string that she can wear as a necklace. She pulls her t-shirt off and slips the string over her head, and now her already impressive cleavage, clad in a black bikini, might as well have a neon flashing sign beckoning my eyes straight to it. Before she notices my ogling, she pulls her shorts off, and I turn my back to her and rummage through my bag like there’s something super important in there.

Get a grip.

Swallowing harshly, I prepare to expose myself in a way I never thought I would. Stuffing my shirt away, I pull a glowstick over my own neck and turn slowly, bracing for her reaction.

“Jace, oh my god.” Her wide eyes bounce from my chest to my face and back again.

It’s the first time she’s seen my tattoos. The first anyone has. My entire chest is covered in black shapes, wrapping around my shoulders and most of my arms, but I keep them covered to deter intrusive questioning.

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