Page 16 of Tongue Tied

The teasing smile she gives me sometimes.

And the way she often trips over my name, but takes the trouble to say it anyway.

God knows how we made it through a whole session on propagation earlier, but we did. My mouth recited the lesson by heart—I’m lucky I’ve taught this all so many times before—but my insides went haywire every time I glanced at Eden.

Holy hell. That kiss.

My surfboard bobs over the waves, icy spray flecking my face. Even though I’m zipped into a thick wet suit, the cold gnaws on my bones. It’s early in the year to be in the water, and this is nothing like the warm sea back home where I learned to surf in nothing but board shorts.

Every time I get splashed, it’s like hundreds of tiny needles pricking my skin. When I lick my lips, I taste salt.

The sky is gray, gray, gray.

Don’t care. I need to be out here right now, feeling the ocean buoy my body. Chasing the high of a perfect wave. Need the distraction from my sweet undergrad and the press of her palms against my chest; need to calm down the jitters under my skin. It’s an overcast evening and these conditions aren’t great, but they’re taking the edge off at least.

Wind gusts inland, ruffling the tops of the waves on its way and chilling me through my wet suit. The water’s getting choppier, and the swell is rough. Gray clouds darken overhead.

Risky.

Still, I linger for a while longer, catching a few more waves—trying to burn off even ten percent of this nervous energy crowding my chest.

Eden.

Is she obsessing too? Would she kiss me again? The thought that she might not, that this might all be happening solely in my head, makes me want to slam my forehead against my surfboard.

How can I teach her for the rest of the semester, acting normal? How can I hide the insanity I feel for her, the irrepressible need to have her in my arms?

The swell comes out of nowhere, so fierce and fast that I’m nearly knocked off my board. I cling on, muscles straining and teeth gritted, until the world levels out again and I’m safe. Overhead, seagulls ride the wind and cackle.

It’s no use.

Pointing my board toward land, I cut through the water with powerful strokes.

Only one person can fix this.

* * *

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: SOS

Sweetheart,

I’m going insane. Meet me in the greenhouse if you see this tonight.

Yours,

Kai

* * *

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Re: SOS

Source: www.allfreenovel.com