Page 37 of The Surfer

“Long time no see, Cove,” James the surfer says, coming to a stop in front of us. He’s a big guy, nearly as tall and muscular as Cove. Nearly, but not quite. “How long has it been, mate?”

“Nearly two years,” Cove replies, still hesitant.

I don’t think he likes this.

“Yeah, nearly two years.”

“I heard about your accident, and about everything since. What a fuck up, hey.”

I sense Cove stiffening next to me. This James guy is pretty forward. He seems like a dick to me, and I think that Cove thinks the same. “Yeah.”

James wipes some ocean water from his forehead. “I remember how you are always out there in the ocean even earlier than the old pros, but that was back when you are a teenager. Now, look at you. Now I’ve heard about how you’re scared about going into the water. Everyone says you’re a chicken, and that the waves freak you out or something, is that really true?”

Cove doesn’t reply. I look up at him and at his perfect face. He’s tensing up. His muscles are rock solid as he grows angry. I don’t like it.

This James guy is a total dick.

James laughs, sensing how’s embarrassing Cove. He’s enjoying this. “You fall off once, and now the famous Cove Finn is scared of the water? How time’s change, hey?”

James’ eyes catch sight of the scars on Cove’s legs. Smiling, he shakes his head.

He’s laughing at Cove. Laughing at his accident.

And Cove is frozen to the spot.

James, sensing weakness, continues on the mocking attack.

“And who’s this then?” he asks, turning to me. I shirk back from the man, taking a step back. He’s intimidating as hell and an aggressive man to boot.

He scares me.

Screw him, and screw how he’s treating Cove. He can fuck about with Cove Finn, but he isn’t going to intimidate or insult me.

I’m not going to back down.

“I’m Ripley Sailor,” I say, offering out my hand.

In a snort of derision, James doesn’t take it.

It’s like I’m worth nothing.

He ignores me.

He turns back to Cove.

“Well, Cove,” he says with a condescending tone. “I also heard you are fucking all the girls in town, but I don’t expect you to be going after even the ugly American sluts.”

THRACK!

The punch happens so fast I don’t have time to register it before it’s over.

Cove has punched James.

He’s punched him in the face.

The guy in the wetsuit stumbles back, covering his nose with his wet hand. He squeals in shock.

Cove’s hand is still outstretched, his fingers closed in a fist. It’s a perfect punch thrown by a strong man. Swift and direct. Full of anger and energy.