Page 91 of Beyond The Break

After I’ve finished brushing my teeth, I change into the wetsuit and stare at my reflection in the mirror. This might be the last time that I wear a wetsuit for a while and I’m not even actually surfing today.

Today I want to paddle out, surrounded by nothing but water, and justbe. But as I step off the last step of the staircase, I almost piss myself at the sight of Gabriel standing in front of the back door, staring out at the ocean with his arms crossed.

“Good morning,” I say, approaching him and noticing that he’s in a wetsuit too.

Gabriel in a wetsuit is a rare sight. Although he’s a surf legend, he doesn’t surf much anymore. Not competitively, at least. He turns slightly, glancing at me over his shoulder.

“Just who I was waiting for,” the hair on the back of my neck stands, “grab your board, and let’s watch the sunrise from the water.”

I don’t question him as we head out the back door, each grabbing a board and walking to the shore in silence. We used to do this when I was younger, it was the only time I would open up about how I was feeling, and the only time he treated me differently from the others on the team. I’ve always idolized him growing up, but when he stepped in to take over caring for me when my parents no longer could, I began to look at him as an older brother.

We jump atop our boards and paddle out farther than I would normally paddle out when searching for surfable waves during practice.

He sits up on his board, his legs hanging off the sides. I do the same, watching him from the corner of my eye, but his focus is on the horizon as a vein in his jaw throbs. I open my mouth to speak, but he starts before I manage to make a sound.

“How’s your leg?”

I clear my throat, tearing my eyes away from him and looking out at the horizon too. “I actually wanted to talk to you about that.”

“Oh?” he says, finally looking at me, annoyance etched in his features.

He knows.

“Colton is going to have to step in for me at Qualifiers.”

Silence. He just sits there, staring. It makes me flustered enough that I start to word vomit.

“My leg isn’t healing because I came back earlier than my doctors wanted me to. If I don’t stop now, and focus on recovering, I’ll never be able to surf professionally again.”

He looks away from me and back at the horizon as the first tendrils of sunlight peak through the top of the water. He nods slowly, crossing his arms in front of him again.

“I knew you came back earlier than you were supposed to,” he confesses, returning his piercing eyes to mine, “but I figured if you felt ready then I wasn’t going to stop you. I see now that I shouldn’t have let that happen.”

I let my head hang in defeat, disappointed that I let him down. I owe everything to Gabriel. I wouldn’t be where I am today if it wasn’t for his help. And here I am, disappointing him.

“I’m sorry, Gabriel,” I whisper, frowning down at my board.

“Fin, don’t you dare apologize for needing to take care of yourself,” he says sternly, “how long is your recovery now?”

“From my last conversation with the physiotherapist, she thinks I should be healed in another three to four months.”

It doesn’t seem like a lot of time, but in three months the surf season will be over so I’m pretty much out until next year’s season. I see the vein in his jaw pulsing as he looks away from me again.

“I have a proposition for you,” he finally says.

“What kind of proposition?”

“I want to reopen the youth team,” he says, eyes sliding to mine, “just to test it out over the summer and see if it could be successful again. You’d be a great coach for them while you focus on recovering.”

My ears ring as my eyes stretch open. “Are you offering me a coaching job right now?”

“I am.” He nods, watching me carefully.

“So, you’re not mad at me?” I fight to keep my voice neutral as the anxiety in my chest grows by the second.

“Oh, I’m pissed,” he smirks, “it shouldn’t have taken your dumb ass this long to tell me about your leg. Especially since I knew about it from the minute you walked out of that exam room.”

My heart stalls in my chest. “She told you?”

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