Page 19 of Catch a Wave

(THE SECOND TIME I EVER SAW HER …)

Ever since I met you,

no one else has been worth thinking about.

~ Kim Karr

“Who isthat?”

I glance over to where my friend, Gull, is looking. His real name is Brad Gulliver, but we all call him Gull because he’s always swooping in on everyone’s leftovers.

And there she is.

Kai’s sister.

I asked for her name a year ago when we were all surfing Mavericks. Kai wouldn’t tell me. He turned all uncharacteristically alpha and said,her name is stay away from me Bodhi. I chuckled and acted like I was satisfied with his answer. Then I asked around until someone told me: Kalaine. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a more beautiful name, or seen a more beautiful woman. And she surfs.

Not only does she surf, she rules the waves. To see her on the water is like artistry. She moves with grace and precision, maneuvering her board like she was born on it. I’ll admit Ichecked out her socials to see videos of her … more than once. I can’t bring myself to stop watching videos of her on the water, or photo shoots she’s done for her sponsors. And, conveniently enough, Kai likes to watch his sister’s heats. So if a contest she’s in is televised, we’re tuning in.

“That’s Kai’s sister,” I tell Gull. “He’ll kill anyone who gets within ten feet of her.”

“Too bad,” Gull says.

“Yeah. Too bad …”for you.

I’m not afraid of Kai. He may be my best friend, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to talk to his sister. I’ve thought about her ever since last year, always keeping the little non-verbal exchange we shared in the back of my mind. We only looked at one another across a parking lot, but it felt like we had shared a whole conversation. And as utterly crazy as it sounds, I believe we made promises to one another—promises I intend to keep. That’s what’s had me wondering where I’d bump into her again. And it’s not a matter of if, but when in the pro surfing circuit. We run in tight circles, even though we travel the world. We’re bound to see one another somewhere. Once I found out she surfed, I knew our paths would cross again. I merely had to be patient.

And, just my luck, Kalaine surfs big waves. So, here we are on Oahu’s North Shore. And she’s less than forty feet away from me, waxing her board, getting ready to ride in the Eddie. She wasn’t on the main invite list this year. She’s still making a name for herself. But she was on standby. And, as it happened, one of the invited surfers couldn’t make it, so she’s set to ride.

Gull wanders off to talk to someone.

I tip my chin in Kalaine’s direction and she smiles at me. It’s a full smile, lighting up her face. Then, she surprises me by setting her board on the sand and walking in my direction. I look over my shoulder, even though I know no one’s there.Then I look back at her and point to myself with a questioning look on my face. She smiles even bigger and nods at me. And she keeps walking toward me, in her orange flowered, Hawaiian-print bikini, her brown hair wild and loose, hanging past her shoulders, being lifted by the wind. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was a dream or the best figment my imagination had ever cooked up. I’d have to treat my imagination to dinner for outdoing himself.

“Hi,” she says when she walks up to me.

I’m never at a loss for words, but for some reason, I stare at her, unable to come up with anything cool or easygoing to say now that she’s this close.

“Aloha?” She tries again.

“Hey,” I say, looking down at where she’s got her hand extended for a handshake.

I grasp her hand and shake it lightly and then I just stand there holding her hand like I’m a dork who never met a pretty girl before and just learned how to shake hands this morning. Only, it was my first lesson, and obviously I’m failing the class. Her hand is soft and warm, and I might have just brushed my thumb across her knuckles—yep. Pretty sure I did that from the look of surprise on her face.

Man, I’d give anything not to fail here, because even though I’ve never officially met her, I think she may be the only girl in the world who matters.

“I’m Kalaine.”

“I know.”

She giggles in this soft, easy way. “You do, huh, Bodhi? And how do you know that?”

I’m still holding her hand, and my eyes glance down to the place where her soft fingers rest in my grasp. I let go, and she pulls her hand back slowly.

“I asked about you—at Mavericks last year.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. I did.”

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