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Trent came around from behind her and tapped her on the nose. “You are an eager beaver. Okay, we’ll get in the shallows.”
Chloe looked at the small waves and sighed. “I suppose I should start with something easy.”
They headed down to the beach with their boards. He showed her how to launch her board and lay down on it. “We’re going to paddle around some first.”
The water lapped at her and splashed into her face, the light breeze cool compared with the hot sun. She followed Trent, copied his moves. They paddled out to sea and then back again. Trent got out of the surf, left his board stuck in the sand, and came back to her. “Okay, now you’re going to stand up.”
She’d been doing that without a problem on the sand, so she stood, and fell off with a splash. She came up, pounding the water. Grinning, Trent grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. “Go slower this time. Like I showed you. Up to your knees, squat, then stand. Get your balance first. Find your feet.”
Muttering about treacherous boards, she tried it again, wobbled, started to fall. Trent put his hand on her hip. “Whoa, there. This ain’t a horse. You go right, your board’s going to go left.”
He spent a long time working with her, teaching her to stand. She noticed his surfer slang had just about disappeared, and she wondered about that. Was that an act he’d put on for her?
But then he grinned and asked, “Dude, you ready to catch a wave?”
Her stomach dropped. She thought about falling off in deep water, where her feet wouldn’t touch the sand. The surf washed over her legs, up around her, and fell back, almost pulling at her. “Uh…maybe not today. It’s colder than I’d imagined.”
He pushed the board toward her. “Climb on. You gotta ride.” He put his hand on her waist and urged her back onto the board. She got on. He ran back and got his own board, and they paddled out to deeper water.
Trent sat up and grinned at her. They had gone out far enough that she couldn’t see the ocean’s bottom. It was quieter here, just water lapping against the board. The noise of the waves breaking seemed distant, and the sounds of the other beach goers seemed even farther away.
She lifted her face into the breeze. “Wow, I can see why you love this.”
“Clears your head. Puts everything in perspective.”
He didn’t sound like a surf bum now. She tipped her head to one side and studied him. She realized she’d told him a lot about herself—about her work as a temp at the Guardians of the Earth, but she knew next to nothing about him. Even Mrs. Wilson, when Chloe had asked about Trent this morning, had managed to shift the topic back to Chloe.
Chloe splashed a hand in the water.
He glanced at her. “Wouldn’t do that if I were you. Reason sharks go after surfers is we act like an injured seal, splashing around. They think we’re lunch.”
She looked around, worry tight inside of her, but didn’t see any sign of a fin breaking the water. “Sharks? I don’t see any.”
“Dude, there are always sharks. It’s what you don’t see that should worry you.”
She frowned. He didn’t sound like he was talking about the ocean. But she said, “Sounds like a mountain lion. You don’t see them, but you can tell when they’re around. You get this…this spooky feeling of being watched.”
He looked at her, eyes narrowed against the glare of the sun flashing off the water. She could still see narrow slits of blue—as blue as the sea, just as dark as deep water. “Yeah…sounds like you’ve got good instincts.”
Trent turned his board slowly, angling the tip toward the shore and looking over his shoulder. “Here we go. When I tell you, start paddling. Catch it first, then stand. I’ll be right behind you. Here she comes!”
He paddled forward, caught the swelling crest of the wave, grinned, and stood. Chloe copied him. The wave picked her up, carried her forward. Wind and spray rushed into her face. It was a giddy sense. She got to a squat, managed to stand. She rode the board for several seconds before she realized she was standing on a piece of wood in a vast ocean. Her heart kicked up and she turned to look for Trent. The board flipped, dumping her into the ocean, and water closed over her head. Panic settled in her chest.
She came up sputtering, reaching blindly for something to hold onto. She made contact with something solid—Trent.
6
Trent had curled out of the wave as soon as he’d seen Chloe go down. They’d catch her board later when it came to shore—he didn’t like attaching boards to beginners. Too often, the board ended up swinging around and hitting them. Grabbing her arm, he pulled her up onto his board. She curled up in front of him, shivering.
“Hey, you okay?” She was trying to wrap herself around him as she sputtered and coughed.
Chloe nodded, but she didn’t let go of him.
He put an arm around her. “You did great!”
“I fell off.”
He laughed. “Yeah, expect a lot of that at first. But you were riding.”
