Page 32 of Britta & the Beach Boy
My fingernails slowly disappear as I chew on them each time Dex’s score falls below his opponents’, but Archie stays calm through all of it. During the women’s heats, he disappears, and I assume he’s with Dex. Stella and I stay put. I want Dex to stayfocused as much as Archie does. When Dex surfs, Archie watches with his arms crossed, barely commenting after each of Dex’s waves, and only lightly when Dex’s scores are announced.
I don’t get the same level of pumping adrenaline watching the other surfers—probably because I don’t know them personally—but I still get a rush of excitement and awe. Especially watching the women surf. Their grace and power make me wish I’d grown up riding waves.
Male or female, each surfer has their distinct style. But none of them has the same cooperative relationship Dex did with his perfect ten wave in his first, nerve-racking heat. As little as I understand about surfing, I’m positive that ride will be one for the history books.
After that heat-winning performance, Dex takes every wave with a confidence that easily leads to win after win. He has a few rounds that don’t go as planned, but nearly every ride is riveting. None has the same magic that perfect ten wave did—not even the last wave he rides that wins him the championship title—but his strength, determination, and joy is inspiring.
When the horn blows at the end of the last heat, Archie erupts. The final scores haven’t been announced, but everyone knows Dex has clinched the title.
“He did it! That little ripper did it!” Archie jumps, pumping his fist in the air, cursing up a storm in between happy cheers.
Then he runs to meet Dex, navigating the rocky beach more expertly than a mountain goat in the Tetons. He splashes into the ocean, crashes into Dex, and they both tumble into the water. When they regain their feet, they’re still embracing and buried in each other’s necks. I can’t see their faces, but the live feed shows a close-up of their shaking shoulders. My eyes water, too.
From the loudspeaker, the announcer talks about what a huge win this is for Dex after two separate comebacks. Archie and Dexmake their way out of the water, arms slung over each other’s shoulders, and I get an even stronger sense of how close they are.
Witnessing their bond—how they belong together and have all this history—I realize they’re not just friends. They’re brothers. Archie’s getting as much delight out of Dex’s win as Dex is, and that’s what family is really about; people who know you well enough to cry with and for you, whether from joy or grief.
Suddenly, I’m flooded with a homesickness I haven’t felt since I’ve been here. Maybe it’s the emotion of the moment, but I miss my Dad. I miss my brothers. I miss all the people in Paradise who feel like family. Most of all, I miss Mom.
Stella and I wait in the box, watching out the window, as Dex and Archie make their way up the beach. It’s slow going as microphones are shoved in Dex’s face and he stops to make comments. The volume on the TV behind me is too low to hear what he says over the talking and cheering of the others around us.
But during one quick interview, Dex’s eyes drift to the box until he finds me. Then he sends me a big wave. The surrounding crowd follows his gaze, and suddenly the spotlight is shining on me. Not a literal one, obviously, but I feel as hot as if it was. I return Dex’s wave with a much smaller one, then retreat further into the box, away from view.
And a second feeling hits me, almost as intensely as the homesickness that’s left me unsteady.
This isn’t my place. I barely know Dex. I’m not like the other people in this box who’ve been watching their family and close friends, not just today, but for years. I’m not Dex’s support system. I’m just a girl who showed up today because he kissed her once—now twice—and she likes the way he looks without a shirt.
And when I look at this whole situation in that light, I sound a lot like a groupie—or whatever girls are called who chase surfers.In hockey, those girls are known as puck bunnies. Are they called surf bunnies in surfing? Am I asurfbunny?
“We should go congratulate him.” Stella tugs on my hand, but I stay planted.
“I don’t want to get in his way.”
“Uh, judging by the way he greeted you after his first win, you won’t be ‘in his way.’ I get the vibe he’d love for you to be more ‘in his way.’” Stella makes liberal use of air quotes each time she repeats my words.
The fact Dex may want me to be “in his way” is exactly why I shouldn’t be. I don’t want to give him the wrong idea about what his kiss meant or why I’m here. I enjoy hanging out with Dex. I want to have fun while I’m in LA. But notthatkind of fun.
Kissing is one thing. Anything beyond that belongs in relationship territory, at least for me. And relationship territory feels even more dangerous than surfing in shark territory.
I’m even less interested in being the second trophy Dex takes home tonight. Dex doesn’t seem like that kind of guy anymore, but I’ve scrolled far enough back on his Insta to see pics with a lot of different girls. And there is no shortage of girls in bikinis surrounding him right now, and by the looks of it, he doesn’t mind.
So, I stay in the box while Dex goes on the temporary stage to receive his huge silver chalice-looking trophy. He and Caitlin Simmers, the women’s champion, get sprayed with so much champagne, they sip it from their giant champagne-glass-shaped trophies. When he holds the trophy over his head, his smile is so big that I want to be down there celebrating with him.
All day, I’ve watched the wave here peel down the middle, moving with equal power in opposite directions. That’s what I feel like now. Part of me wants to be by Dex’s side, celebrating this huge win like I’ve dreamed of it for as long as he has. Like, I really understand how important this is for him because I’veloved surfing my whole life, not just for the past eight hours. The easiest thing to do would be to give into temptation and join the party below and let our attraction lead wherever it will.
The other part of me knows this is all temporary. The stage and stands will come down. The event tents and portable structures will be stored away. Anything we start while I’m here, stays here. Dex will keep traveling the world to surf. I’ll go back to my regular life in Paradise, which, I worry, will be even less satisfying than before if I get pulled too far into Dex’s more exciting life.
So, I use every ounce of willpower to keep from going to the beach where he can see me again. I watch as he does quick media interviews. There are a lot of congratulations in between and other people to talk to. I have a bird’s-eye view of it all and am happy to watch Dex celebrate from afar. Stella is in the mix somewhere—Stella isalwaysin the mix somewhere—but I’ve lost sight of her.
There’s food in here, so I gorge myself on chips and guac while Dex gets all the praise he deserves. Eventually, people walk up the path away from the beach and the crowd thins, and I spot her talking to Dex and Archie. She points up at me, wiping away any question about what they’re talking about.
I wave to Dex, who lifts his trophy again, then motions me to come down to the beach where they are. I hesitate, still feeling pulled in two directions, but I can’t ignore him. Mostly because he’s the number one surfer in the entire world, but also because he’s my ride back to my car.
I head in their direction, but before I get far, my phone dings in my back pocket. When I see a message from Adam, I immediately worry it’s aboutBritta’s.Adam doesn’t just call out of the blue to say hi, and after our conversation yesterday, I’ve been expecting to hear from him.
I push play on the message and listen to Adam’s gravelly voice. “We’re going to have to make some hard decisions about whetherBritta’scan be saved. Call me ASAP.”
The air grows close, pressing in on me as I listen to the message a second time.
