Page 38 of Catch a Wave
“We’ll just paddle out past this mushy stuff and then you can sit up on the board. You don’t have to do more than that for now.”
She nods.
“Ready?”
“As ready as I’ll get out here. Do you know if there are sharks?”
“Sharks do live in all ocean waters. Mostly smaller species if you’re close to shore. They’re more afraid of you than you are of them. We haven’t had a shark attack here on Marbella ever.”
I never like this line of conversation once we’re in the water. Wouldn’t you know? Talking about sharks doesn’t help a student relax—like, at all. But she asked. So, I’ll do my best to help her feel confident.
“I snorkel out here all the time. And surf. You are safe.”
“Okay. I’m going to do this.” She nods her head imperceptibly. The shift in her mindset from panic to resolve is palpable.
“Good. You start paddling. I’m right here with you.”
Jenny takes one arm off the board, loosening the death grip she has on one side, and then she starts to take a stroke, but she’s still clutching the board on the other side, so her movement is unbalanced. I grab her board to steady it.
“Hold on a minute.” I catch her eyes and look at her calmly and with the confidence I’ve worked hard to regain out here in the waves. “Can you trust that I teach people to surf all week long?”
“Yeah. Okay … yes.”
“And those surfers are mostly new to the water and the sport—otherwise they’d come out here without me, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. So, when I tell you to do something, you need to do what I say because I’m trying to help you succeed. Alright? I won’t lead you astray. I’m going to help you do this. You will ride a wave if you keep following my directions.”
“Okay.”
“You have to let go of the board with both hands or this isn’t going to work. Your body is going to stay on the board. Your wetsuit and the wax help keep you in place. And if you don’t stayup, you’ve got your leash, and I’m right here. And my buddy, Wyatt, is over there on the lifeguard tower.”
I turn to wave to Wyatt. He waves back, and then my eyes catch on a woman on the dock near the shack. I’d know that wild dark-brown hair anywhere. Mavs is here—and it looks like she’s watching me. I nearly lose my focus on my lesson at the sight of her.
Normally, if I got this twisted up over something, I’d talk things out with Kai. Obviously, I can’t tell him I’m struggling over Mavs.
“Okay,” Jenny says, tearing my gaze away from the dock.
“Okay. Release the board. Then slowly drag your hands through the water. Paddle just like you’re swimming. When we approach a wave, nose up like I showed you.”
“Okay.”
Jenny’s eyes focus like it’s her against the ocean. Thankfully, I know it’s not. These waves are tame and easy. To her they feel intimidating, and this stuff close to shore is not fun to sit in unless you like being surrounded by sloshing foam and spray.
We paddle out next to one another where the waves are more spread out and the ocean is glassy. Jenny makes it there on her own power, and the resulting smile is one I love to see—one I can relate to. There’s nothing like this.
“Okay,” I tell Jenny. “You can sit up on your board. I’ve got you. Just hoist yourself up like you’re doing a pushup, and spread your legs so you’re straddling, then sit the rest of the way up.”
She does as I told her, and then we’re just two surfers, bobbing in the water, letting the ocean roll beneath us. We spend the next thirty to forty minutes mastering paddling into the waves and turning so we’re ready to take a wave. Jenny belly boards a few, gets tossed twice, and finally lands a ride. She gets a few more before it’s time for the lesson to end. We’re bothrunning on adrenaline and endorphins when we let the last wave take us in and walk our boards onto shore.
When I look up on the dock, Mavs is still there. She turns away, avoiding my gaze, but we both know she’s been there—watching me teach Jenny to surf. I thought Jenny catching a wave was something. It’s nothing compared to knowing Mavs cared enough to spectate. I try to talk my heart down from the thoughts I’m entertaining. It’s not working. I’m nearly buoyant with hope. Maybe I’m a fool. But if I’m not …
“You can leave your board here,” I tell Jenny. “I’ll come back and get these. Let’s get you out of that wetsuit.”
We walk side-by-side up to the shack. When we approach, Mavs ducks through the door into the shop. I walk Jenny around back and show her where she can dump the wetsuit once she’s changed out of it in the outdoor dressing room.
I change out of my own wetsuit, washing under the outdoor shower and drying off with one of the towels on the bench. My clothes are inside the shop. I walk in, wearing only the swimsuit I had on under my wetsuit. The first thing to catch my eye is Mavs, staring at me like I’m indecent. You have to know her to know when she’s blushing. And I know her. I wink and allow a slow smile to spread across my face. I’m not trying to toy with her. She just brings out the same side in me she always did—playful, daring, flirty, but also protective.
