Page 44 of Catch a Wave

He doesn’t stutter or cut my nickname short.

“Morning,” I say, looking around on the sand like I dropped something besides my dignity.

“Like the view?” He smiles a crooked smile at me and my stomach gets all bubbly and gooey.

“The view? From down here?”

He chuckles. “No. The view you had back there.” He points to where I had been standing.

I’m so busted. But I’m not going down that easily.

“Huh? The view. Yeah. It’s beautiful out here. A good day for catching some solid waves.”

I hoist myself up and end up nearly face to face with a post-surf Bodhi.

He smiles this unguarded smile at me and I give up fighting. Whatever. So, I was watching him. It doesn’t mean anything.

“You look great out there.”

“I look great, huh?” His eyes crinkle at the corners and he lifts his eyebrows the slightest. It’s a look that gets me every time.

“You know what you look like. Stop fishing.”

“I like hearing what you think I look like.”

“Because I’m your friend.” I remind us both.

“Because you matter.” His face is dead serious. The teasing is gone.

“You can walk now—and crawl.” He chuckles. “How long til you’re allowed out on a board again?”

“We will not speak of my crawling ever again.”

“Got it.” His smile doubles. “No speaking of how you dropped down when you saw me and crawled along the back of these loungers as if I hadn’t been aware of you coming out here every morning this week. Sounds about right.”

I feel my face flame. “I said, no speaking of it.”

“Right. I was just clearing up what we aren’t speaking about.” He winks that infuriating wink. It should be illegal, or registered.He should have to register his wink like a man registers a lethal weapon. Maybe he should have to get it licensed. And there should be signals. Like a wink stoplight. Red … don’t wink. Green … bring it on. Yellow … take caution with your winking.

“Mavs?”

“Huh?”

“When do you think you’ll be allowed to get back on a board?”

Oh. That.

“I don’t know. My therapist said to take it slowly building in activity that taxes my ankle. It could be a while.” As in,never. I can’t tell Bodhi that, though. He’d fight me.

“Walk with me?” He tips his head in the direction of the shore where he laid his board on the sand. His towel is in a rumpled pile there too.

“Or crawl,” he adds under his breath.

I jab him playfully with my elbow as we walk side by side. “I said to drop that.”

He looks over at me and raises both hands in innocence. “Dropping … like you dropped down onto the sand …”

“Bodhi!”

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