Read Online Clash by Rick Bundschuh Bethany Hamilton - Free Book Online

ought to be happy that I’m getting up early to drop you off at the beach before I go to work.”
    Jenna caught sight of her image in the hall mirror and frowned slightly.
    Like most people her age, she was not entirely pleased with what she observed. She really liked her new neon blue and green swimsuit. But she wished her hair wasn’t so red and her skin didn’t look so . . . white. Her critique of her body would have continued right down to her toes, but the bathroom door opened and her mom came out and said, “Okay, let’s go!”
    Following the surfboard-laden cars across the Hanalei Bridge, Jenna’s mom found Pine Tree Beach easily. Jenna quickly exited the car and waved goodbye to her mother.
    The beach was alive with activity and color. Bright pennants, with the names of sponsoring companies emblazoned upon them, drifted high above the tents in the gentle breeze as tanned men and women, surfboards under their arms, swarmed over the beach.
    Suddenly, an air horn sounded, and four men wearing colored Lycra jerseys and holding surfboards bounded toward the water. The surf meet was on.
    Jenna stood wide-eyed, taking it all in.
    Bethany glanced up briefly at the sound of the air horn and then bent over to finish stretching her hamstrings. She and her friends had hiked farther down the crescent bay to a location out of the contest area in order to tune up and practice for their upcoming heats.
    Doing stretching exercises on the hard sand was the first step, and the girls, although young and limber, took this part of the routine seriously. Even a slight injury could mean the difference between winning and losing in a contest with aggressive and talented competitors.
    A small rectangle of wax was passed around, and the girls scraped it over the top of their surfboards in order to create an uneven surface so they wouldn’t slip off.
    Leashes were fastened. Those who planted their right foot in the back of their stance put their leash on that foot. Those who favored their left foot or “goofy foot,” as Bethany did, hooked the leash on that one.
    The rolling whitewater grabbed at the knees of the girls as they waded into deeper water. Unlike many places in Hawaii, the Pine Trees area had a smooth sandy bottom completely free of reef or rocks.
    When they reached waist-deep water, the girls slid onto their boards and stroked out toward the horizon. Their objective was the smooth blue water just past the breaking point. Even though their movements looked effortless, it took stamina, skill, and a lot of practice to make it look so easy.
    As the whitewater from a breaking wave exploded in front of the girls, they quickly grabbed the rail of their surfboards and, with one fluid motion, pointed the nose deep under the wave while drawing one knee under them and throwing the other foot out and up as balance.
    This maneuver, if done properly, would allow the girls to dive under the power and reversing force of the wave. If done improperly, the end result could mean that they would be pushed all the way back to the beach. Bethany and her friends zipped through the crashing whitewater like pros.
    For the next hour the girls raced along the face of powder blue waves, executing arcing turns and finding the tube time and time again.
    Jenna, not recognizing anyone, found a spot on the sand and watched in awe as the remarkably talented, bronzed men and women took to the water in competition.
    Behind her, the announcer called out a commentary on what was happening in the water and on the scores of the winners. Every few minutes the air horn would sound, indicating the start or end of a heat.
    Just then, Jenna noticed a cluster of girls standing at the edge of the water. Each wore a different colored jersey. One of the girls Jenna recognized, even though her back was turned. She was tall —taller than the others. She had almost white-blonde hair, and the left sleeve of her jersey was knotted. It was Bethany, the girl she had met the week