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“The one datingJude Santiago?”
That smirk was back. “So you’re a Fantiago?”
My jaw dropped. “You’re kidding. Tell me you’re kidding.”
“I’m kidding.”
I hit his shoulder. “Diego! I thought you were related to a famous person.”
“Watch it, killer.” He laughed, grabbing his shoulder.
I shook my head. “I knew there was no way someone like you shared DNA with a goddess like Des De Leon”
He laughed. “Oh, I do. She’s my sister.”
My jaw dropped. Hehadto be kidding me. “How is that even possible?”
“I guess that’s a question for the big guy. Although, Des did used to tell me I was adopted, but I think that’s just something big sisters do.” With a shrug, he nodded toward the board. “Now lie down on the board. We’ll practice standing up.”
Twenty-Four
April
For the next fifteen minutes,I got up and down on my board so much, I thought he was messing with me. When I accused him of just trying to give me a workout, he said, “It’s easier to practice on land than it is in the water. But I think you’re ready to go if you want to.”
I looked from my board on solid ground to the roiling waves. I wasn’t letting Diego see how afraid I was. Even if I was terrified of getting dragged under the water and making a fool of myself.
The ocean was beautiful, but it was also strong, powerful...deadly.
“Ready?” Diego asked.
I nodded. Lies. All lies.
He bent, wrapping the surfboard leash around my ankle. My skin sizzled under his touch. I attributed it to the fact that I wasn’t used to being touched. Any girl who’d never had a first kiss would have her hormones in a frenzy if a guy her age got close. I stayed still to show it didn’t affect me, even though the burn stayed long after his fingers pulled away.
He carried the surfboard for me, his arms flexing powerfully as he lifted it. At the water’s edge, he said, “Shuffle your feet when you get in the water. There are stingrays here sometimes.”
My heart stalled. “Stingrays?”
He nodded.
And here I’d been worried about embarrassing myself. Now I had to contend with the thing that murdered Steve Irwin?
Seemingly oblivious to the fear racing through my veins, Diego led the way into the water. I followed behind, the chill hitting my skin as I shuffled my feet along the sandy bottom. Determined not to show any weakness, I stepped in up to my waist, focusing on the warm sun instead of the cold water.
A big wave crashed against me, flinging water up to my shoulders. I flinched, and Diego said, “When a wave comes, it’s best to hold your board like this.” He swung it out to his side, so it was parallel to the waves. “If you put it in front of you, it’ll smack you down—I’ve even seen people break their nose that way.”
Later, when I was warm in front of the fire, eating s’mores, I’d tell my mom what a terrible idea this lesson had been. Between the risk of stingrays, jellyfish, drowning, and now broken bones, I didn’t know why anyone went surfing at all.
In a break between the waves, he said, “Okay, climb on.”
I looked at the board, put my hands on either side, and tried to pull myself up.
Tried.
Instead, the board flipped over, and I fell below the water, coming up sputtering. Completely humiliated, I said, “We can just go back to shore. I can’t do this. I don’t even know why I tried.” I started walking back, ready to hide myself forever.
Diego reached for my hand, his face just a board’s width distance from mine. “You can do this.”
