Page 41 of By All Accounts
He typed a series of replies, deleted them, typed and deleted some more. I watched the dots appear and vanish, appear and vanish. Finally a message.
Have fun.
“Fuck off,” I said to my phone, stacking it neatly on top of my jeans. I slipped my t-shirt back on and found Andrew in the living room again, dressed much the same. From the back, he looked like Hunter.
He reminded me of all of us.
“What’s the plan?” I asked.
He turned and pulled a pair of sunglasses off the top of his head and down onto his nose. “Do you surf?”
“Absolutely not.”
Andrew—my brother—grinned at me.
“Do you want to learn?”
Four hours later, I collapsed on the sand, my head landing on a towel and the rest of me splaying out helplessly. My bones were gelatin and even though I was certain I was on dry land, my body hadn’t gotten the memo. If I closed my eyes, I could still feel the waves pushing and pulling at me.
Andrew had been right.
Surfing, or failing at it, had been the perfect distraction and an amazing way to spend the last half of a Saturday afternoon. He sat down beside me with a laugh, legs bent at the knee and arms outstretched.
“You are not great at surfing,” he said.
“And you were? The first time you tried?”
“I mean, better than…” he trailed off with a laugh, and I shoved sand at him. “I don’t think I would have kept at it if it had been that hard for me.”
“I should have stayed in LA and drank.”
“I know you don’t mean that.”
My expression fell and I shook my head. “No, I didn’t.”
I opened my eyes and shielded them with my hand so I could see his face. Andrew looked mostly unbothered, save for a few worry lines around the corner of his mouth. He’d done a great job trying to teach me how to surf. We’d started with what he said were the basics—mostly paddling, getting used to the feel of the board riding the waves. It took a couple of hours, but I did stand up once, only for the wave I’d been eyeing to immediately take me out. Falling off a surfboard, even in shallow water, was disorienting, but I wasn’t one to take failure at face value, so I tried again.
Andrew managed to get two more hours out of me before my legs gave up. My core hurt like I’d done seven thousand hours of planks, and I knew the drive back to LA was going to be agony. Andrew had offered to let me stay at his house, but I did find that by the end of the day, I was looking forward to being home.Spending the day with him at the beach hadn’t fixed anything, but I felt marginally more equipped to face things upon my return.
We enjoyed some quiet conversation on the beach together, not talking about anything important or groundbreaking, which I appreciated. When the sun began to sink quicker toward the horizon, we called it a day and carried his surfboards back to his house. He gave me a spare towel, so I took a quick shower before getting dressed again and checking my phone.
I had a text from Hunter making fun of the swim trunks again and letting me know he was relieved I wouldn’t get lost at sea. I responded to him with four middle finger emojis. I also had a message from Daniel, which I had hoped for but not expected.
Daniel
When are we going on that date?
Tell me when.
And also from Sophie.
Sophie
I hope you had a good rest of your day, Finn.
I miss you already, which feels silly to say.
It’s not silly. I miss you too.
