Page 57 of Summer Love

“That’s life. One injury and your career’s done. That’s what being an athlete is. One day you’ve got a body that’s worth something… and the next, it’s worth nothing.”

I hesitate a second, then I tell him what I already told Miles. The skating. The fall. The broken foot. The sponsors gone. The career over.

“The injury cost me a lot more than skating,” I admit. “I had savings. Not a lot, but enough to feel more or less secure. And it all went to rehab, my rent in New York, my student loan…”

Luke doesn’t say anything. He waits.

“My grandparents left me the house,” I go on. “And I’m going to have to sell it to get by.”

“Your grandparents would be proud of you, you know. Even if you have to sell the house.”

My eyes sting. I pick up the paper bag and tuck it against my hip.

“Thanks, Luke.”

He nods.

The glass-front cooler hums. A bug taps against the fluorescent light on the ceiling.

“Luke… why isn’t Jace on the pro circuit?”

He freezes. His brown eyes search mine like he’s lost the thread. I laugh, for lack of a better response.

“Don’t tell me you forgot that too.”

“Of course not.”

His voice has changed. Lower, slower.

He studies my face, like he’s looking for something—a trace of irony, a joke about to land.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No…”

Luke opens his mouth and leans toward me over the counter.

A crash rings out from the back of the store. Something metal falls, then rolls between the aisles. Luke jerks upright.

“Cazzo, again?”

He grabs the broom propped behind the register and takes off between the canned-goods shelves.

I clutch the bag against me. My heart’s beating a little too hard for a simple surf question.

I replay the scene. Luke’s voice, his look, the way he said “you’re kidding,” like I’d said something outrageous.

But it’s not.

Jace was the best surfer in Coral Bay. Everyone knew it. Everyone expected him to make it onto the circuit. So why is he still here?

And more than that, why is the question off-limits?

I wait. Somewhere in the back, Luke swears in Italian. Something else falls, then hurried footsteps echo down the aisles.

Luke doesn’t come back. I head for the door. The bell jingles behind me.

What happened to Jace Walker?