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“Don’t act like you’ve never grinded on a chick before.” I bump his shoulder.
“Maybe once or twice.” His eyes sparkle with laughter.
“Mhmm.” I press my lips together and look at him like a scolding mother.
He laughs and rubs his stubbled jaw like he’s embarrassed. “Will you go with me?”
“Sure. I’ll make a fool of myself, but why not.” I shrug, reminding myself of my vow to get out of my comfort zone.
He smiles, his white teeth sparkling in the sunlight. “You’re going to love it.”
“If you say so. Now” —I stand up and brush as much sand off the wetsuit as I can— “can we please get something to eat. I’m starving.”
“Sure. I’ll go grab my wallet from the Jeep and put these away.” He indicates the surfboards. “Why don’t you go get in line somewhere and I’ll catch up with you?”
“Sounds good.”
I head off in search of the food stands while he leaves in the direction the Jeep is parked.
My stomach rumbles as I walk. I worked up an appetite while I was out there.
There are several stands to choose from but I end up going with the sandwich one, since I usually always get a hamburger when I’m at the beach.
Several people are ahead of me, by the time it’s my turn to order Jasper has appeared.
I order a turkey sandwich with lettuce, tomato, and avocado. Jasper gets the one with practically everything on it. I’m not even surprised. And then he also orders a cup of fries for us to share and two waters.
After we have our food we sit down at a table to eat. I’d love to sit in the sand and eat but without towels, there’s about a hundred percent chance sand would end up in our food and I don’t want a literal sandwich.
Jasper unscrews the cap on his water bottle and downs about half of it in one gulp.
I give him a skeptical look and he laughs, wiping the dampness off his lips with the back of his hand.
“I was thirsty,” he reasons.
Unwrapping my sandwich, my stomach grumbles yet again in desperation for food. I take a bite and it settles, somewhat.
Jasper chews a bit of fry and clears his throat. “If you don’t mind, could you tell me what it was like … in the beginning … when you were first diagnosed.”
“I don’t mind,” I reply, and wipe my hands on a napkin, wondering where I should begin. “For starters, I was naïve. We all were. We didn’t understand what my diagnosis meant and just assumed transplant would happen easily and quickly. It didn’t. It’s a long, hard process. I was only fourteen at the time, but I had to grow up quick and deal with my reality. The first couple of months after I was diagnosed were the hardest. I spent a lot of time in the hospital then, having to go back for one thing or the other. I had to have a catheter in my chest and that sucked balls. It hurt and itched like crazy, but with it being an open hole to my heart I couldn’t scratch it. Do you have any idea what it’s like to itch twenty-four seven? I started to feel
like I was losing my mind.” I pause and shake my head as I catch my breath. “Then I had to have a fistula put in my arm, since I was on hemo-dialysis to start.” I hold out my left arm and point to the inch-and-a-half long scar on my wrist. “Here, feel my arm.”
He places his hand on my arm and his eyes grow wide with shock.
“Whoa, what the fuck is that thing?”
“They attached an artery to a vein—the artery pushes extra blood into the vein, making it grow bigger so it can withstand the pushing and pulling of blood so quickly during dialysis. That’s why it feels like it’s buzzing—it’s all the extra blood. I can hear it at night,” I admit. “It’s like my body is humming.”
“That’s some weird shit.”
“The weirdest,” I agree. “I call it my Hulk vein.” I laugh. “See the difference in the size of my arms?” I hold them both out together. “It looks like it’s swollen, but it’s not, it’s because the vein is big.”
“That boggles my mind,” he whispers, reaching out tentatively to rub my arm. I hold myself still as he touches me. My arm isn’t nearly as sensitive as it used to be, but sometimes it still bothers me when someone touches it. “Is this okay?” he asks, either picking up on my stiffness, or maybe he’s just that in tune with me.
“It’s okay.” I nod for him to continue.
He moves his hand lower, to where the thrill is stronger.
