Page 5 of Bring You Back

She claims I’m her first love. I claim she just doesn’t know any better.

Before I can stay lost in Reyna, in the residual effects of how good she feels, I get lost in the beach laid out before us through the windshield. Morning is lifting over the water, tinting the waves yellow as they make their way to the shore, turning their hue to a pale blue. This is my spot. This is where I reacquaint myself with peace, where I remind myself that the thing I love loves me right back.

So many people I know are aching to get out. I wouldn’t leave this town for anything. Bellsby, Maine is my plan—my past, present, and future.

“Your dad again?”

Reyna’s voice has dipped, and without looking at her, I can see the sympathy on her face as she tries to find my thoughts.

“Not this time. But thanks for the reminder.” My tone is dismissive. I’m already ready to be alone.

“Well, when you get quiet—”

“I’m just thinking.”

“You can tell me what you’re thinking,” she doesn’t hesitate to encourage. I’m tempted to thank her again for the reminder, but then she has to make it sound like a personal attack that I’m not as open as she is. “I tell you what I’m thinking.”

I just shake my head.

She tries again. “Do you wanna get some breakfast?”

I ate a banana before leaving the house, which is the extent of my breakfasts before I hit the water. “No,” I say before her hopeful optimism convinces me to say yes. Reyna is many things—emotional, moody, and sensitive being the core, and her ability to bounce back has always amazed me. Nothing can keep her down for long. Not her mother, not even me. I’m hot and cold, she’s high and low.

But that’s not going to make me hang with her right now. Ever since I started behaving like an asshole, as she and Tommy have put it, thefuckingpart of our relationship is fine and well, thefriendshippart is slacking.

What can I say? Life is unfair. This is my time to be alone. I gave her what she wanted, now she can give me what I want.

When I look at her, she’s frowning, hair tucked behind her ear. “I just have things to do.”

She smiles. “We can do them together.”

I want to say that we just finished doing the thing we’re good at doing together, but I settle with, “No, we can’t.”

She looks out at the beach and sighs. “You’re going surfing.”

There are two best times to be out in the water: dawn and dusk. Not only are the waves better on this side of the beach, but it’s cooler and less crowded, so I don’t have to worry too much about communicating with other surfers. Win-win-win.

Because there’s an etiquette to this sport, rules to respect. You’re not riding the waves alone unless you’re literally out there alone. When others are in your line, you’re a team, and you have to be mindful. I found that out the hard way. My background wasn’t in surfing. I came from skateboarding. The two are similar, and that’s one of the reasons I was drawn to the water once I veered away from the asphalt.

The second reason involves the man who acted as my father for my whole eighteen years of life.

The third reason is complicated, and one I don’t think about.

“When are you going to teach me?”

I shift in the seat, ready to spring. “Not today.” I’ve been on edge all morning, a prickly feeling that is usually soothed after an orgasm between Reyna’s legs. There’s something different about today. I can’t put a finger on it.

“Soon,” I promise, which has so far been empty. It doesn’t have to happen today, or tomorrow, as long as she hears that it will happen. Words and assurances are her lifelines. Her dimple pops up as she tries to smile, and I poke it to get a real one from both of us.

“Are you still coming to my art showing?”

“Yes,” I answer automatically with unfailing irritation from being asked again.

“I’m just making sure.”

“I already said yes.”

Her soft features shift to disappointment. “You’re being an asshole again.”

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