Page 25 of From the Ashes

Either way, this is happening. The two of us are going to give Nevaeh some surfing lessons. Anything beyond that is in fate’s hands now. I just pray whatever transpires, I’m strong enough to survive it.

Because what existed between Colt and I when we were young is still shining brightly. I feel like a moth being drawn to the flame. If I’m not careful, I’ll find myself reduced to a pile of blackened ashes. It’s up to me if I let those ashes go cold.

Or if I rise from them like a phoenix, reborn.

CHAPTER 11

Colt

“That’s it!You got it! Try it once more for me?”

It’s the following Sunday, and I feel genuinely thrilled as I watch Nevaeh, Rebecca and Dashel throw themselves back on the sand on their bellies, digging by their hips as they simulate paddling. Then when I give them the signal, they pop up by doing a kind of press-up with their arms before jumping to their feet, like they were jumping on their board in the water.

“Wow, are you sure you guys haven’t had lessons before?” Zahir asks. “You’re basically pros already!” He jams his hands on his hips and scowls at the kids like he’s the big bad wolf, and they all dissolve into giggles. It’s too precious, really.

“No, Mr. Del!” Nevaeh shrieks in her dramatic tone I’ve come to very much enjoy. “This is the very! First! Time! I SWEAR!”

He whistles and shakes his head. “We better warn the Olympic committee, then. Because—wow.”

More giggling. More delight. And then these three tiny kids do the exercise another five times, never complaining, only wanting to get better and better so next time we could maybe try it on the water (with us holding both the board and their waists, of course).

The whole time, Anton and Elizabeth cheer and applaud like it’s the Super Bowl. I thought that kind of behavior would be annoying, but it’s really not. To these kids, their parents’ attention means the world and…yeah. I can relate to that.

My parents never came to a single one of my athletic meets. They were not very subtle about their embarrassment when I was in the school play. The only reason they tolerated any kind of extracurricular activities was because they knew it would help with my Harvard application. But in their eyes, competitive sports and the arts were at best a distraction from my studies, and at worst, uncouth.

At the time, I just accepted it. I didn’t know any different. But watching these kids thrive is opening my eyes to just how important having a well-rounded childhood is. I think back to my colleagues sneering at their teenagers’ hopes and dreams, and it makes me appreciate just how many challenges this generation is facing as they grow up. There’s so much pressure to succeed and be the best. But is there enough joy?

There certainly is for these guys today. I was worried when Zahir and I decided to start them on dry land drills for their first lesson that they might whine and get bored. But they’ve done no such thing. Although now we’ve finished our session, they’re begging us to try just sitting on the kid-sized board they’ve been sharing in the water.

“Pleeeeease, Colt,” Rebecca wheedles, batting her eyelashes at me. “We can’t come all the way to the beach and then not get in the ocean!”

That was actually my exact plan. I didn’t bring any swimwear because the idea of getting in any way naked around Zahir seemed like a disaster waiting to happen.

Especially when things are going so well.

Okay, yeah, all we did was text a few times to plan one lesson, then spent most of that lesson talking to the kids and not eachother. But the fact that we’re doing this at all feels miraculous to me. I’m not sure if it’s simply wishful thinking on my part, but I can’t help but think there’s less tension between us as well. Like we’ve both released a breath we’ve been holding.

Or perhaps he’s just on his best behavior in front of the kids. Who knows?

Speaking of which, said kids are dancing on their toes with their hands clasped in front of their chests, giving both me and Zahir puppy dog eyes in their quest to get in the water. To be fair, I’m the only one not dressed for it, and that’s on me. In fact, I probably look like a dick right now. It was foolish to think I could avoid getting wet. There really is only one thing I can do.

“Okay, you win,” I groan. The kids cheer as I slip my sandals off. No sense in ruining them. “But just a paddle, alright? I don’t have any other clothes with me.”

“We promise!” Nevaeh cries.

“Hey, we can go in with them if you’d like,” Zahir’s firefighter buddy, Anton, offers. But I shake my head.

“Nah, it’s fine,” I assure him and Elizabeth. “I promised to teach them. Next time, I’ll know better.”

I glance at Zahir in his board shorts and T-shirt. He laughs and gives me an easy smile, making me hopeful that he at least doesn’t think I’m a tool for not dressing appropriately.

To start with, we start by repeating the drill, this time on the board in a couple of inches of water. As no one was sure how serious the kids were going to be about this hobby, Anton and his ex-wife have currently only invested in one board for them all to share for now. The three of them are being very good with taking turns, though. I’m impressed.

With just my feet in the surf, my chinos feel safe initially. Zahir is holding the top of the board, deeper in the water. When we progress to getting the kids to sit on it and dangle their feetover the sides, I only have to wade up to my knees to keep the thing sturdy.

But then Murphy’s law strikes, and I step on a rock so sharp I wonder if it’s actually a shard of thick glass.

Or I would have thought that if I hadn’t been too busy shrieking like a banshee, snatching up my foot, and toppling into the water.

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