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“Just making sure.” He lets go of my hand, lays his board down, and begins going over the basics. “There’s a few different ways we sit and stand on the board. I’ll show you them.”
He moves through each one, how to lie when you need to paddle, how to sit up and straddle, how to go from a lying position to a crouching one, and finally to an almost full stand.
Let me say, going from lying down to on your feet in a squat is way harder than it looks. After a few tries, my knees and legs are on fire. At one point, I slam onto my belly, my feet giving way from beneath me.
“Ouch. Are you okay?”
I grimace as I rub the sensitive, sore skin on my stomach. “Yeah. Next time, remind me not to wear a bikini.”
“That would’ve hurt either way, trust me. I’ve landed on my board more times than I can count, full wetsuit and all. It always fucking hurts. But you’re doing better than me the first time I tried. Granted, I was only two, but what’s age got to do with it?”
I burst into laughter. “Uh, a lot. You’ve been surfing since you were two?” I wipe some sweat off my brow. Damn, the afternoon sun is hot.
Or maybe it’s your hot instructor?
Nooo, it’s definitely the sun.
“Yep. I grew up a couple of streets over from the shoreline. I pretty much spent all my time there except for school.”
“Wow, that must’ve been nice. Did you ever get tired of it?”
“No, not really. There are plenty of days when it rains and you get a break from the sun. But I’d be happy living in a hut on the beach, so I’m the wrong person to ask.”
“One hundred percent beach bum,” I tease, and he laughs.
“When I was exhausted from surfing, I sure was.”
We spend the next half hour going over the same few moves again and again. But the thought of doing these same moves while balancing the board on water? I’m not so sure anymore. Why do we expect something to be easier than it ends up being?
I must have a weird look on my face because Rhett watches me with amusement. “What’s wrong? You look a bit…pale.”
“Oh that’s just the shitstorm of nerves invading my stomach when I think about doing all this in the actual water. You know, basic stuff.”
“Getting in the water is kind of the whole point, yeah?”
“Well, yeah, but…” I trail off. Maybe wanting surf lessons was a bad idea. What was I thinking?
“Listen, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. We can float on our boards like a raft for all I care. One step at a time.”
“Even if we never make it into the water?” I squeak.
“Oh, we’re making it in the water. But yes.” Those words are the opposite of what I want to hear. But his big grin melts my insides, and my body relaxes, like an automatic reflex. How does he do that?
“I’m not a stranger to swimming in the ocean, but the thought of being on the board intimidates me,” I confess. I guess since my body decided to relax, my mouth did too.
Rhett pats my hand gently, like a caring friend, and I’m not so embarrassed. “I think all beginners feel the same way. But it'll become much easier once you get out there and get a feel for the water and the board.”
I nod and continue to practice, focusing on a smooth jump from belly to feet. It’s hard as fuck.
“How about we take a break? Want to get a bite to eat? I haven’t eaten since this morning,” Rhett asks as I immediately sit on my towel, my body beat already from the short lesson. I’m definitely not in as good a shape as I thought. But I am hungry.
First, though, I need to cool the fuck off.
“Yes, but do you mind giving me like five minutes? I want to take a quick swim after I rest for a minute.”
“You’re taking a quick swim and not even inviting me to join you? I really am hurt, Maia. Deeply.”
“I thought you knew you always have an open invitation with me.”
