But more than all of that, I’m scared of what Kai might think, so conditioned to walk on eggshells, to be perfect, perfectly quiet.
“I can’t do this,” I say, my words nearly lost in the sound of the waves lapping at the shore.
Flopping down in the sand, I will myself not to cry. I’ve already done it once in front of Kai, and I don’t need him thinking I’m some fucked up mess. Even if I am right now.
“What are you talking about? You told me you can swim,” he replies, wedging the boards into the sand and joining me, his knees pulled up, leaning on his hands behind him.
“I can swim,” I reply, letting out a little chuckle, but it feels humorless.
“That’s basically all it is in the beginning. Swimming out and waiting for a wave,” Kai says. “The fun part is when you actually catch one, and it just wrecks you. Launches you in the air, water up your nose, suit wedged up your ass.”
What if this is the same situation I just left? What if Kai is showing me someone he isn’t, and I fall for it all over again? I shouldn’t even be here with him.
God, everything is so fucked up.
This should just be about me learning to do something new, something fun, but all I can think about is past trauma.
That’s what it is. It’s not just a breakup, and I wish like hell it was, but it was emotional abuse for the last five years of my life. Recovering from that isn’t as simple as moving away and learning to surf.
It’s ruining this experience for me, and as much as I wish I could just get over it, I can’t. But I also don’t want to unload on Kai. What I need is a therapist, not to learn how to surf.
“Come on, Quinn. I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but let it go. Surfing is good for the soul. It’s humbling, it’s connecting with Mother Nature, it’s pushing yourself, it’s exhilarating, but best of all, it’s fucking epic when you catch a wave and ride it for the first time.”
Every word he says buries itself deep within me, and I want to trust him, but the fear lingers.
“If it’s awful, we can stop,” Kai assures, smiling at me. “But it’s not going to be. You’re going to fall in love with it.”
He leans into me, giving me a gentle shove with his shoulder. I take a deep breath and find myself agreeing to do this with him…again.
“Don’t get me wrong, you’re gonna get drilled, like, over and over,” he clarifies, and I don’t know what comes over me, but I respond with the first thing that comes into my head. Something I would never have had the guts to say in front of Sean, but with Kai, I feel more like myself than I have in years.
“That’s what she said.”
He pauses for a split second before he bursts out laughing.
“Fuck, Quinn, you’re gonna fit right in with all of us,” he says, his laughter contagious and sweet. “Now let’s get you out on a board.”
Well, he wasn’t wrong about getting drilled. I’ve only been able to stand up once, getting knocked down more times than I can count, and I’m pretty sure my sinuses will be clear for the next lifetime with the amount of saltwater that has shot up them.
But it’s been amazing.
I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun. The laughing and the frustration, the encouragement from Kai and his endless patience. He pushes me to continue trying, and I never once feel like I’m being judged.
“One more,” I say, breathless. All this paddling out is a great workout, and Kai is right, I’m addicted. I want to harness the power of the water and catch a wave, to feel in charge and in control.
“I knew you’d love it,” Kai quips, hitting me with a wink. “I’d love to say you’re a natural, but you definitely need more practice.”
“What?” My mouth falls open in mock shock at his comment. “Come on, I fall so expertly that there has to be some good in that, right?”
“You do make it look very graceful,” Kai jokes, the two of us out on the water, our bodies bobbing with the waves.
His foot brushes against mine, and I literally freak out, pulling my legs up onto the board, screaming about a fish touching me. Because that’s what it feels like, despite knowing I haven’t seen one since we’ve been out here.
An overreaction.
All of this makes Kai burst out laughing, shaking his head.
“Settle down. It was just my foot,” he assures, reaching over to rest a comforting hand on my thigh. Under it, I feel the warmth of his skin, the salt from the sea, rough and dry, his calloused hand, and I can’t remember the last time someone’s touch felt good.
