Page 51 of The Time It Takes
The sun is still on its journey of rising when I hear distant chatter, causing me to freeze. I make no movement against the oncoming waves. I only sit and wait for something strong enough to carry me away from my own heart.
“You came,” Dean acknowledges as he comes up beside me.
I peer over at him and offer my best smile, which isn’t a great one. “I did.”
He dips his chin before turning away to look at the person coming up behind us.
“Juiceeeeee,” Taylor yells, and I shake my head, ignoring him. The sound of that nickname still hurts. It has no business belonging to me. It will always belong to my father, but I don’t mention it.
Someone else paddles up beside me and I don’t have to look to know who it is. Oliver, as I expected, says nothing to me. I glance back at the beach to see a lone silhouette sitting in the sand—her blond hair being tossed around by the soft morning breeze.
I turn back around and ask Dean, “No Phoebe this morning?”
He shakes his head. “She’s going to pick up Finnick from her parents. They told her she didn’t need to get him until after dinner tonight, but you know…” He shrugs a muscled shoulder. “We miss the munchkin.”
I nod, understanding. I find myself glancing back at the woman on the beach and then at Oliver, wondering how and when it happened. By the third time, he catches me. Our eyes meet and I press my lips together.
Busted.
“What?” he spits out, his brows furrowing.
I look away, dropping my eyes to my board. “Nothing,” I mutter.
I can still sense his gaze on me, so I look up at him again, squinting an eye against the growing brightness of the sun. He’s staring at me with a new ferocious intensity today, but I can’t read him like I used to. It’s still clear he doesn’t want me talking to him or even being near him for that matter.
“Alright, well is it just me, or is it hard to tell whether these two want to rip each other’s clothes off or each other’s faces?” Taylor asks casually, his voice chipper as usual despite how early it is.
“Shut up.” Oliver and I snap at the same time as our attention jerks to Taylor.
"Seriously, Taylor?" Dean asks, disgusted. "Have you ever heard of reading the room?"
He throws his hands up defensively, poking out his bottom lip. “I’m only observing.”
“Let’s just surf,” Oliver interjects. “That’s the reason we came out here, isn’t it?”
Taylor only sighs. “I’m not trying to interrogate anyone, but there is some serious tension in the air. It’s messing with my aura.” He motions his arms like he’s pushing an invisible force away.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Stop reflecting then.”
The corner of his mouth lifts as he winks at me. “Touché.”
Dean clasps both hands together. “Though this is a conversation I definitely want to be a part of, I think I’m going to catch the next wave.”
I find myself laughing softly at his words. “I really did only come out here to surf. No drama. Just us and this.” I drop myself onto my stomach, preparing. I’m a little nervous. It’s been such a long time since I’ve done this.
“At least we can agree on something,” Oliver huffs, surprising me.
Everyone else follows suit in readying themselves. The waves progress in size as the morning grows. I feel like a rookie again at first, but I warm up quicker than I anticipated. I’m not as smooth as I once was, and it’s obvious in the way I’m handling each wave. None of the guys say anything and I don’t know why I wish they would give me pointers or something. Every time I catch them watching me, they turn away.
I wipe out a few times and it’s a hard attempt to not become frustrated. Every time Oliver catches a wave, I find that I can’t take my eyes off him. He’s a force in the water. He’s good—really good, a beast, but then again, he has ten years on me now.
I suppose that’s what happens when you don’t miss a day of doing something you love.
I stopped. I stopped and now I’m starting again, but it won’t last because nothing this good does. It’s awakening something within me that’s sat dormant for a long time. The itch is back. Now that I’ve started to scratch it, I know there won’t be any coming back from it.
After a couple of hours, I stop to take a moment to breathe it all in—this feeling of arriving. I know the moment I step back on the beach it’ll leave again because for some reason the world only likes to give me moments. All I get are these little snippets and I don’t know how to make them be enough.
I stare down at my hands as I run them over my board. My body bounces with the force of the rippling water sweeping me around.
