Carlos, probably sensing an impending discussion about who was the better surfer between amateur Rubén and her, pinched the bridge of his nose before adding, “Listen, Rubén, maybe you could have made a career out of surfing if you just accepted critiques.”
“He could never,” Ester interjected. “His male ego would be crushed if he finally realized that a woman he surfed with when they were younger is now an Olympic gold medalist and he’s just a… what’s your job now?”
“I’m planning a trip to Thailand,” Rubén informed, avoiding acknowledging anything Ester had rightfully declared before.
“Is that your job now?” Alejandra asked. It was impossible for her to leave him be. She didn’t understand how Carlos couldstill be his friend, and truthfully, by Carlos’ face, he was asking himself the same question.
Rubén snarled at her. “I’m taking a break. Money is coming in from the houses my parents have rented around Cádiz, so I’m taking some time off.”
What a fucking lucky guy, wasn’t he? He didn’t even have to worry about stopping working because money would appear in his bank account thanks to daddy dear and his four houses all along the coast.
“Lucky you,” Alejandra muttered.
“Don’t act like you’re not shitting money yourself, Alejandra,” Rubén declared. “You just bought a house in Conil.”
“Two years ago, and with money I earned from competing all my life. Don’t compare my money with yours, please.”
Rubén scoffed. “You earned money by surfing waves. It can’t be that hard.”
Alejandra should have been surprised by that sentence, but it wasn’t the first time she had heard it. Minimizing her achievements just because they came from a place of happiness—a place where she was happy while surfing.
“Yet, less than 8% of all pro surfers can actually make a living out of it,” Alejandra reminded him. “But again, I feel this is rooted in ignorance and misogyny because I truly believe that if Carlos were the one with an Olympic gold medal at home and two USL titles, plus many other medals in his studio, you would treat him like he was a god. While me? I’m just a girl who made it out of sheer luck.”
Rubén scoffed. “Come on, why do you always invite your sister? She’s so annoying with this misogyny talk. I love women. Women are amazing.”
“I doubt women like you.” Alejandra smirked, honeyed and lethal.
Ester tried to hold back a laugh while Carlos, who had knownher comebacks all his life, kept his expression neutral as he passed a hand through his long black hair.
“I have plenty of women.”
“Yeah, sure.” Carlos patted his shoulder. “Listen, amigo, just stop. You lose this war every time we meet. Recognize that Alejandra is an amazing surfer who deserves to be where she is. If I’m doing my dream job, it’s because of her, so why don’t you just… evolve a little and stop mingling with people from the far-right?”
Ester groaned. “Please, don’t start with politics.”
But it was too late.
The discussion went on for the rest of the coffee, with Rubén clearly defending his stupid far-right opinions about immigrants staying in their own countries or trying the legal way, while Alejandra, Carlos, and Ester tried to explain that sometimes people didn’t have the privilege to stay or to try the legal way. Just when someone called Rubén and he left, Alejandra stared deeply at her brother and asked, “When will be the time that you stop being friends with that facha?”
Carlos sighed. “Distance makes me sentimental, and I still hope he changes.”
“But he never does,” Ester admitted. “I don’t hang out with him anymore. Just when you call us. And even then, I’d rather be swallowed by water than listen to him.”
“I actually do not recommend either,” Alejandra tried to joke, even though just the image of a wall of water above her made panic swell in her chest.
Ester and her brother fell into conversation, catching up about life in general. They had been a couple for years when they were teenagers, but then they had fallen out of love, and distance certainly hadn’t helped.
As they updated each other on their lives, her mind wandered back to the ocean. The huge expanse, now bathed in sunset light, seemed to call to her. Neptune seemed to mock her, reminding her of his power, while Salacia… Salacia was the reason she loved the ocean so much. And yet, since the accident, their relationship hadn’t felt the same. She missed the thrill of the wave but dreaded the fall that could come with it, and she hated herself for it. Because since when had Alejandra López Romero been scared of the element she had loved forever?
Maybe the fact that she hadn’t fallen or gotten injured before had been luck. Maybe her career would have been destroyed much earlier if she had suffered another injury. Maybe Rubén was right. Maybe she was just a girl trying to play with the water, and finally, Mother Nature had reminded her who ruled.
“Are you okay?” Carlos frowned at her, squeezing her right hand.
“Yes… why?”
“You look pale,” Ester admitted.
“Is your shoulder hurting?”
