I’m sure he will.
“Not one for jet skiing?” Noah asks when we
step outside onto the sidewalk. “Do you know how many of these
things we could check off on a jet ski?”
I don’t even answer that question. I didn’t
realize I was such a shoreline girl, but maybe I am. I just know I
can’t step foot in the ocean while the Great White is embedded in
my brain.
“Moving on,” Noah says, defeated. “Surf shop.
You may not want to go in here, but I never get to go places like
this. Besides, the wave demands we go in.”
An aqua wave shoots from the roof of
Drenaline Surf, dangling over the store. A silver surfboard,
painted like a shark with the Drenaline Surf logo, is positioned in
the center of the wave over the arched entranceway.
“Nice,” Noah says, looking at the wave frozen
above us. “I already like this place.”
Living in California my entire life, I’ve
seen my fair share of surf shops. I’ve seen everything from
Quiksilver to the family-owned stores. Drenaline Surf doesn’t
really impress me. The main room has the basics – surf gear and
accessories, sunglasses, clothing, beach towels, souvenirs, and
jewelry. The room to the side has a ton of surfboards. Typical.
“Hey, welcome to Drenaline Surf,” the guy
behind the counter calls out. More shark photography decorates the
wall behind him. “If you need any help, just let me know.”
At least he’s not eager or pushy. He pretty
much ignores us and goes back to talking to his friends, but I’m
more interested in who his friends are than buying Drenaline Surf
merch. Two guys stand on the opposite side of the cash register –
the blonde with dreadlocks and the guy he picked up from Lights Out
last night. This must be a super tiny town.
“I wasn’t even that drunk,” the guy from last
night says. “I think they’re just looking for a reason to fire me.
They hate me anyway.”
“So you have all week off?” the guy behind
the counter asks. “You should just go work part time with Jace.
He’d get you on at the music store, and you’d make more part time
than you do full time lifeguarding anyway.”
“Yeah, because you’re always suspended,” the
blonde says. “Fuck them. Let’s go surf.”
“Language!” the guy behind the counter
shouts. He looks over at me. “I’m so sorry. My friends are
idiots.”
His friends immediately look my way, about
the same time Noah looks toward them. There’s an awkward pause, and
I hate it. But then…
“You’re the dude from last night,” the other
guy says. “The one Dr. Richardson was giving hell, right?”
Noah nods, and the guy from last night
introduces himself as Theo. Then he introduces his friends – Miles,
the dreadlocked blonde, and Topher, the guy working at Drenaline
Surf.
“Spring break or vacation?” Theo asks.
“Spring break,” Noah answers quickly. I think
it’s obvious that these guys have no clue who he is, and Noah tends
to enjoy that. “Anything cool happening around here?”
Theo shrugs. “Crescent Cove is boring as
hell,” he says. “We’re headed back to Horn Island. We just came to
see Topher, but as usual, nothing’s happening here.”
“You know, Dr. Richardson’s yacht club party
is tomorrow night,” Miles adds. “It’s one of those big shot things
– doctors, lawyers, rich dudes. Basically a bunch of assholes get
together and celebrate owning the city. You should crash it.”
It surprises me that no one interjects or
tries to convince us otherwise. Instead, Theo invites us to go back
to Horn Island with them, and much to my surprise, Noah
accepts.
Big Tony follows Miles and Theo back to Horn
Island, questioning Noah repeatedly about if this is a good idea.
The bodyguard seems way more concerned about these ‘surf thugs’
than Noah does, though.
“You know how you have those cities where, if
you turn left, you’re in the rich downtown areas but if you turn
right, you’re in the ghetto?” I ask, peering out the
“Not one for jet skiing?” Noah asks when we
step outside onto the sidewalk. “Do you know how many of these
things we could check off on a jet ski?”
I don’t even answer that question. I didn’t
realize I was such a shoreline girl, but maybe I am. I just know I
can’t step foot in the ocean while the Great White is embedded in
my brain.
“Moving on,” Noah says, defeated. “Surf shop.
You may not want to go in here, but I never get to go places like
this. Besides, the wave demands we go in.”
An aqua wave shoots from the roof of
Drenaline Surf, dangling over the store. A silver surfboard,
painted like a shark with the Drenaline Surf logo, is positioned in
the center of the wave over the arched entranceway.
“Nice,” Noah says, looking at the wave frozen
above us. “I already like this place.”
Living in California my entire life, I’ve
seen my fair share of surf shops. I’ve seen everything from
Quiksilver to the family-owned stores. Drenaline Surf doesn’t
really impress me. The main room has the basics – surf gear and
accessories, sunglasses, clothing, beach towels, souvenirs, and
jewelry. The room to the side has a ton of surfboards. Typical.
“Hey, welcome to Drenaline Surf,” the guy
behind the counter calls out. More shark photography decorates the
wall behind him. “If you need any help, just let me know.”
At least he’s not eager or pushy. He pretty
much ignores us and goes back to talking to his friends, but I’m
more interested in who his friends are than buying Drenaline Surf
merch. Two guys stand on the opposite side of the cash register –
the blonde with dreadlocks and the guy he picked up from Lights Out
last night. This must be a super tiny town.
“I wasn’t even that drunk,” the guy from last
night says. “I think they’re just looking for a reason to fire me.
They hate me anyway.”
“So you have all week off?” the guy behind
the counter asks. “You should just go work part time with Jace.
He’d get you on at the music store, and you’d make more part time
than you do full time lifeguarding anyway.”
“Yeah, because you’re always suspended,” the
blonde says. “Fuck them. Let’s go surf.”
“Language!” the guy behind the counter
shouts. He looks over at me. “I’m so sorry. My friends are
idiots.”
His friends immediately look my way, about
the same time Noah looks toward them. There’s an awkward pause, and
I hate it. But then…
“You’re the dude from last night,” the other
guy says. “The one Dr. Richardson was giving hell, right?”
Noah nods, and the guy from last night
introduces himself as Theo. Then he introduces his friends – Miles,
the dreadlocked blonde, and Topher, the guy working at Drenaline
Surf.
“Spring break or vacation?” Theo asks.
“Spring break,” Noah answers quickly. I think
it’s obvious that these guys have no clue who he is, and Noah tends
to enjoy that. “Anything cool happening around here?”
Theo shrugs. “Crescent Cove is boring as
hell,” he says. “We’re headed back to Horn Island. We just came to
see Topher, but as usual, nothing’s happening here.”
“You know, Dr. Richardson’s yacht club party
is tomorrow night,” Miles adds. “It’s one of those big shot things
– doctors, lawyers, rich dudes. Basically a bunch of assholes get
together and celebrate owning the city. You should crash it.”
It surprises me that no one interjects or
tries to convince us otherwise. Instead, Theo invites us to go back
to Horn Island with them, and much to my surprise, Noah
accepts.
Big Tony follows Miles and Theo back to Horn
Island, questioning Noah repeatedly about if this is a good idea.
The bodyguard seems way more concerned about these ‘surf thugs’
than Noah does, though.
“You know how you have those cities where, if
you turn left, you’re in the rich downtown areas but if you turn
right, you’re in the ghetto?” I ask, peering out the
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