seem too bothered.
“So is Newquay in London or Birming ham ?” the lifeguard was asking me, as I scanned the surface of the water for fins with his binoculars. Then I heard someone call my name.
Chase.
I handed the lifeguard his binoculars and walked quickly down the steps of the booth to help Chase with his belongings he’d brought a large rucksack, two paddles and two twelve-foot-long SUP boards. He was sweating heavily, having hauled them all the way from the car park.
“Where’s Zeke?” he asked, scanning the crowded beach.
I pointed to a pair of legs sticking out from beneath our blue beach umbrella.
“Asleep. Again.”
“Late night?” Chase said, elbowing me lightly in the ribs.
“Not really, although we did watch the first and second Harry Potter .”
“Jet lag kicking his ass?”
“We only came from the West Coast.”
“He’s probably just exhausted. He’s been traveling for pretty much four years straight, you know. Takes it out of a guy. What’s that thing he says, about the tank?”
I shrugged.
“You remember: when he flies in for a contest he only has sixty percent in the tank, even on a good day. Or was it fifty? Whatever. He’s running on vapors. He really needed this vacation.”
“Yeah,” I said, “he did.” But Zeke had never told me any of that. Up until this trip, it had seemed as if he had a never-endingsupply of stamina and energy. “And maybe quitting smoking has done something to his brain,” I said.
“Could be.”
He looked as if his arms were about to fall off so I took one of the ridiculously heavy SUPs and dragged it behind me, plowing a furrow in the sand. When we got to our umbrella, Chase set his board down and sat on it.
It felt super-awkward to sit there in silence with someone I hardly knew. Then Kelly texted me to tell me about a huge storm hitting Newquay which had thrown up storm waves so massive that the beaches had lost half their sand. I texted her back to say that I hoped everyone was OK and also to point out that in Miami it was thirty-five degrees and sunny. Her reply was a single emoji of one finger.
Chase was also texting away on his phone, but after thirty minutes of this I cracked.
“Zeke,” I said, hoping I wouldn’t have to slap him. He opened his eyes instantly.
“I was just having the craziest dream about . . .”
Chase threw a handful of sand at Zeke’s feet.
“Buddy!” Zeke said. “I thought you had to work today!” His eyes locked on the SUPs.
“Perks of working for the old man. So I’m here to rescue you from crushing inactivity.”
“Thank you, sweet, sweet Jesus,” Zeke said, jumping up and tearing off his T-shirt. He threw it down, but I intercepted it and folded it, in an attempt to embrace tidiness.
I had to give it to Chase, he was a great friend, coming to distract Zeke from the surf DTs. He seemed to really careabout him. They weren’t just friends, they were more like family. It made me think of Kelly. Made me miss her even more.
“Iris, do you mind?” Zeke said, his voice all quivery with excitement.
“ Go .”
I watched them from the shore. Chase looked like such a land-shark, with his sharp outfits and cool hats, but he was a natural on the water. He had a skinny, strong body, and managed the SUP like it was an extension of his feet. I watched until they paddled out of sight, and when they appeared again, two hours later, Zeke’s whole demeanor was different. Instead of sleepy, he looked completely energized.
Chase went off to find a loo, leaving his board at my side. I ignored it and cracked open a packet of crisps.
“Ha,” Zeke said, stretching out beside me, “you have quite the eating plan here.”
I’d popped to the nearest 7-Eleven to grab Zeke some vitamins, and had also bought a feast of junk food and laid it out in a mockery of a picnic. I’d done this deliberately, to make a point. The point being: I am eating and I am not going out with you on a bloody stand-up
“So is Newquay in London or Birming ham ?” the lifeguard was asking me, as I scanned the surface of the water for fins with his binoculars. Then I heard someone call my name.
Chase.
I handed the lifeguard his binoculars and walked quickly down the steps of the booth to help Chase with his belongings he’d brought a large rucksack, two paddles and two twelve-foot-long SUP boards. He was sweating heavily, having hauled them all the way from the car park.
“Where’s Zeke?” he asked, scanning the crowded beach.
I pointed to a pair of legs sticking out from beneath our blue beach umbrella.
“Asleep. Again.”
“Late night?” Chase said, elbowing me lightly in the ribs.
“Not really, although we did watch the first and second Harry Potter .”
“Jet lag kicking his ass?”
“We only came from the West Coast.”
“He’s probably just exhausted. He’s been traveling for pretty much four years straight, you know. Takes it out of a guy. What’s that thing he says, about the tank?”
I shrugged.
“You remember: when he flies in for a contest he only has sixty percent in the tank, even on a good day. Or was it fifty? Whatever. He’s running on vapors. He really needed this vacation.”
“Yeah,” I said, “he did.” But Zeke had never told me any of that. Up until this trip, it had seemed as if he had a never-endingsupply of stamina and energy. “And maybe quitting smoking has done something to his brain,” I said.
“Could be.”
He looked as if his arms were about to fall off so I took one of the ridiculously heavy SUPs and dragged it behind me, plowing a furrow in the sand. When we got to our umbrella, Chase set his board down and sat on it.
It felt super-awkward to sit there in silence with someone I hardly knew. Then Kelly texted me to tell me about a huge storm hitting Newquay which had thrown up storm waves so massive that the beaches had lost half their sand. I texted her back to say that I hoped everyone was OK and also to point out that in Miami it was thirty-five degrees and sunny. Her reply was a single emoji of one finger.
Chase was also texting away on his phone, but after thirty minutes of this I cracked.
“Zeke,” I said, hoping I wouldn’t have to slap him. He opened his eyes instantly.
“I was just having the craziest dream about . . .”
Chase threw a handful of sand at Zeke’s feet.
“Buddy!” Zeke said. “I thought you had to work today!” His eyes locked on the SUPs.
“Perks of working for the old man. So I’m here to rescue you from crushing inactivity.”
“Thank you, sweet, sweet Jesus,” Zeke said, jumping up and tearing off his T-shirt. He threw it down, but I intercepted it and folded it, in an attempt to embrace tidiness.
I had to give it to Chase, he was a great friend, coming to distract Zeke from the surf DTs. He seemed to really careabout him. They weren’t just friends, they were more like family. It made me think of Kelly. Made me miss her even more.
“Iris, do you mind?” Zeke said, his voice all quivery with excitement.
“ Go .”
I watched them from the shore. Chase looked like such a land-shark, with his sharp outfits and cool hats, but he was a natural on the water. He had a skinny, strong body, and managed the SUP like it was an extension of his feet. I watched until they paddled out of sight, and when they appeared again, two hours later, Zeke’s whole demeanor was different. Instead of sleepy, he looked completely energized.
Chase went off to find a loo, leaving his board at my side. I ignored it and cracked open a packet of crisps.
“Ha,” Zeke said, stretching out beside me, “you have quite the eating plan here.”
I’d popped to the nearest 7-Eleven to grab Zeke some vitamins, and had also bought a feast of junk food and laid it out in a mockery of a picnic. I’d done this deliberately, to make a point. The point being: I am eating and I am not going out with you on a bloody stand-up
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