Riptide - By Lindsey Scheibe Page 0,35
glance … I see something jiggle. In the best way possible.
She laughs. “Ford, you’re so funny. It’s on. You can look now. Besides I need your help. How do you zip this thing up?”
I walk over and step up behind her. I thought the suit might be big on her. And it certainly doesn’t fit her like it fits me, but her curves seem to fill it out perfectly. The chest on that suit will never be the same. I reach down to grab the zipper dangling above her rear end. I laugh nervously and carefully grab it sful on tha without touching her. I listen to the sound as I zip her up. I grab my board and say, “C’mon. Time’s a wasting.”
She walks next to me, looking like a goddess in my suit. It hugs her curves tightly, making her ankles look delicate.
We claim a spot on the beach near a family of tourists. The kind of mom who’ll watch our stuff like a hawk while we’re out surfing. I wax the board and comb. Brianna quietly watches, squatting down next to me. A foot of space between us. This is nice. The kind of scenario I used to wish I had with Grace. With her interested in me. Hanging on my every word and action. Showing interest instead of pushing me away.
I give her the rundown. “We’ll hang out at the foamies. Let you practice standing up. Get the feel for the waves. I’ll be right next to you the whole time. Cool?”
She grins. Her whole face lights up. “Cool!”
“Watch me lie down on the sand and pop up. That’s what you’re going to want to do on the board. It’s one fluid motion.” I lie down and pop up in slow motion a couple of times, then I show her real time. “You got it?”
She nods. Then she lies down on the sand and practices a few stand-ups. They look pretty decent.
I say, “Let’s do it.”
We walk out together. Me carrying the board. When her waist hits the water, she squeals and shivers. I laugh. Same thing Grace does. Must be a girl thing.
We stop where the foamies break. I grab the leash. “Put this on your right ankle.”
She extends her right leg up to the surface and rests it on the board, ankle in the air. Her toenail polish is bright red. She has cute toes. She fumbles around with the Velcro.
I grab it and say, “Here. It’s kind of tricky.” I fix it and I swear she’s blushing.
“Okay. So lie down on the board. I’ll hold on to it for you and I’ll push you forward into a wave. Then when you feel comfortable, stand up.”
She grabs the rails of my board and scoots onto it, a bit wobbly and too far up.
“Scoot back a little. Your balance will be off.”
She scoots back and her rear end hits my arm as she gets settled into a better spot. My forearm. Across her butt. A modern-day miracle.
I stabilize the board. “How does it feel?”
“I’m ready.” She squints up at me, flashing a gorgeous smile. I smile back, clueless of what to say next.
A split second later, a small wave comes at us. I push her forward and say, “Paddle!”
The wave sweeps her up and even though she doesn’t really paddle, she’s riding the surfboard. Lying down for a ride that carries her all the way to ankle-de sy t evenep water. Then she gets up and walks back to me, pushing the board with her hand. Her face is glowing with excitement.
I laugh. So what. She didn’t stand up, but she had fun. That’s what it’s all about.
After about twenty tries, Brianna stands up, and that’s when it’s time to call it quits. We walk toward the shore. She looks exhausted, but also like she’s on that adrenaline high.
The family is gone but our stuff’s still around. I grab
the bag and toss the wax and the comb into it. Then I stick the board under my arm and we walk back to the parking lot.
Buzzy and Damien drive up, music blaring, and park right by us. Shit. What are the odds? This isn’t their usual beach. They get out of Damien’s Jeep, a big grin on their faces. Then Damien opens up the passenger door behind him.
Out pops Grace. Double shit.
And Brianna is of course jiggling out of my wetsuit.
Buzz and Damien are both checking Brianna out while she’s bent down tugging the wetsuit over