A flash of confusion passed over Jasmine's face, which reminded Han that he never gave her his name.
But her puzzled look disappeared quickly.
“Ready to go, Han?” she asked. “I'll drive since I have the surfboards.”
“You've got five boards up there,” Kuang Jr. observed. “You expecting somebody else?”
Finally, Jasmine gave the snakehead the courtesy of her acknowledgment. But her tone became tight as if she was gritting her back teeth while telling him, “No, I always carry a bunch of boards. Sometimes whole families want to learn.”
“So that’s what you do for a living? Teach people how to surf?” Kuang Jr. asked, dropping some of the smarm. “I see you. That’s real fucking cool, girl.”
Jasmine hesitated and glanced at Han. Perhaps she sensed that she was walking along a dangerous line of conversation with a complimentary Kuang Jr. If so, she was correct to worry about sharing too much. The less he knew about her, the better. But at the same time, he could become a real pain in her ass if she dared to insult him again.
Han watched her, strangely curious to see how she would handle Kuang Jr.’s scrutiny.
“Yes, but this is a private lesson,” she answered, her voice smoother and more professional than he would have given her credit for after watching her punch Kuang Jr.
Good answer. Han made a mental note to congratulate her for her quick thinking when they were alone.
But then Kuang Jr. said, “Okay, in that case, I'll come along too. I know my boy, Han, won't mind, right?”
He held out his fist to Han for an American-style dap.
And Han inwardly cursed. Yes, Kuang Jr. was craftier than perhaps even his father suspected. The snakehead had put Han in the position of giving him what he wanted or saying no to him joining them—which would be considered a grave insult in their triad world. The perfect offense to report to his Dragon Daddy, and then Han would have a situation on his hands.
Gritting his teeth, Han gave in with a slight nod. Then ignored Jasmine’s questioning look as they all climbed into the car.
8
JAZZ
Teaching Han and K Diamond to surf didn’t go as bad as I thought it would. Han was a natural, and K Diamond mostly fell into the water.
Usually, I had a policy about making sure all my first-time students managed to catch at least a couple of waves, whether they were paying me or not. However, in K Diamond’s case—well, actually, I stuck to that policy. But I had a whole lot of fun watching him tumble off his board for longer than I normally would have before I interceded. I took him back to shore, drew a surfboard in the sand, and worked with him on nailing his pop-up and immediately finding his center of gravity.
And as much as I disliked him, I cheered when he finally managed to catch a wave and stay on it until he was ready to hop off close to shore.
After that, I left him to it and paddled farther out to progress Han on the bigger waves.
Those were a lot more challenging for him. But he stuck with it, paddling out again and again until he finally managed to catch a bigger wave and stay on it.
I cheered for him too. But it wasn’t necessarily out of teacherly obligation. A lot of being a surf teacher is encouraging first-timers not to give up. So the students who stuck with it and leveled up their skills without me having to aggressively inspire them to work for the entire time we’ve allotted always struck me as impressive.
A lull hit after that win and K Diamond went back to the beach. And of course, he didn’t shade my board, just dropped it in the sand face up so that the front would have no protection from the sun whatsoever.
I paddled in and stuck it nose down and fin up in the sand.
“We going?” he asked. “It’s hot as balls, and I’m fucking tired after all of that surfing.”
Did he expect me to care about his comfort after what he did to my father—not to mention how he neglected the board I loaned him? “Nah, I’m going to catch a few more waves.”
“But the ocean’s flat…” he started to say.
I didn’t hear the rest because I was already headed back to the water.
Take that, asshole, I thought as I paddled back out to where I’d taught Han on the bigger waves.
I’d figured he’d return to the beach too. But no, he paddled over to where I was and mirrored my seated position, straddling his long legs on either side of his board.
I splayed my pinkie and my thumb while curling down my middle fingers to throw him a shaka greeting…and tried as hard as possible to keep my eyes from wandering down to his torso, but it was kind of hard not to stare.
