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Authors: Nikki Godwin
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rocks protrude from the ocean,
sloshing waves around like a bad sea storm. Emily explains that the
rocks are why the Hooligans are so territorial – they naturally
create good waves. It makes sense, but I’m not quite sure I’d want
to be in that water, aside from the fact that it’s murky and
disgusting.
“I’m a professional surfer,” Miles says,
almost offended. He runs back over toward us and grabs the
surfboard next to Emily’s towel. “See that? Drenaline Surf? Ocean
Blast Energy? Those are my sponsors. Those are endorsements.”
Noah follows Miles to where Emily and I sit.
“Professional surfer? As in pro athlete?” he asks, as if he can’t
believe it.
Miles nods, and Noah laughs manically and
loudly, like he’s already drunk from the one beer he drank.
“Dude, you need to chill,” Miles says.
“You’re creeping me the fuck out.”
Noah drops to his knees on the chunky sand.
“He’s not Shaq or Kobe, but he counts,” he tells me. “He’s your pro
athlete. We found one.”
I feel like I’ve told this story a zillion
times already, but the “what-the-fuck” expression on Miles’s face
is enough to know I need to explain it again – fast. There’s no way
I can ask for a selfie with him without an explanation. I quickly
tell him, his girlfriend, and the Hooligans about my botched spring
break plans, my bucket list, and how I never thought I’d be able to
pull off half of the things on there.
Emily asks to see my list, so I retrieve it
from my bag. She takes the list from my hand and scans the items.
While she does that, Noah snaps a picture of me with Miles. At
least that one can go on Instagram now.
“Who knew you’d be able to check off the
celebrity thing, huh?” she says. Then she nods toward Noah. “That’s
definitely an A-list celebrity, if you ask me.”
She did know. I think I can hang with
this Emily girl. Miles and Theo both say they don’t care because
they’re clearly not into boybands, but Kale asks for an autograph
and a selfie with a promise not to post it online for a week so
Noah can enjoy his vacation. I’m amused, especially when Noah
agrees.
“So, do guys in boybands play volleyball?”
Theo calls out, motioning to the net down the beach.
Noah shrugs. “They do now,” he says.
An hour later, my hands are sore, Noah’s
shirtless, and Theo is drunk. Team Noah-Marisol-Kale wins yet
another game because Theo can’t quite serve the ball properly.
“I quit!” Miles shouts. “This is why I didn’t
want you on my team.”
Noah tackles me with a hug. Specks of sand
linger on his body, and I want to volunteer to help him clean them
off, but that’d be way too awkward with Kale staring us down. I’m
not sure if he’s more interested in flirting with me or hanging out
with Noah. He’s star-struck. I guess he doesn’t consider Miles’s
athletic status to be all that famous.
“This was fun,” Noah says, pushing my hair
back over my shoulders. “Just hanging out with normal people. I’m
glad we came. Plus, you crossed something off the list.”
He’s right – item number one. Meet a pro
athlete. Done.
Theo throws away his beer bottles while Emily
gathers up her things to take to her car. I wasn’t so sure about
Horn Island, but now, I’m not quite sure I’m ready to leave. The
sun starts to burn out and fall into the ocean in a heap of bright
red light. I stand on the shoreline, watching the sea water bubble
and foam up against the sand when the tide brings it in and sucks
it back out.
“What’s the deal with the pier?” I ask,
pointing out at the collapsed pier in the distance.
“What about it?” Kale asks. He shields his
eyes and stares. “It’s just part of Horn Island.”
“So a pier just randomly collapsed into the
ocean, and no one bothered to haul away the pieces?” I ask.
“Everyone just thought it’d be okay to leave half a pier standing?
Isn’t that dangerous or harmful to the ocean or something?”
Miles steps
sloshing waves around like a bad sea storm. Emily explains that the
rocks are why the Hooligans are so territorial – they naturally
create good waves. It makes sense, but I’m not quite sure I’d want
to be in that water, aside from the fact that it’s murky and
disgusting.
“I’m a professional surfer,” Miles says,
almost offended. He runs back over toward us and grabs the
surfboard next to Emily’s towel. “See that? Drenaline Surf? Ocean
Blast Energy? Those are my sponsors. Those are endorsements.”
Noah follows Miles to where Emily and I sit.
“Professional surfer? As in pro athlete?” he asks, as if he can’t
believe it.
Miles nods, and Noah laughs manically and
loudly, like he’s already drunk from the one beer he drank.
“Dude, you need to chill,” Miles says.
“You’re creeping me the fuck out.”
Noah drops to his knees on the chunky sand.
“He’s not Shaq or Kobe, but he counts,” he tells me. “He’s your pro
athlete. We found one.”
I feel like I’ve told this story a zillion
times already, but the “what-the-fuck” expression on Miles’s face
is enough to know I need to explain it again – fast. There’s no way
I can ask for a selfie with him without an explanation. I quickly
tell him, his girlfriend, and the Hooligans about my botched spring
break plans, my bucket list, and how I never thought I’d be able to
pull off half of the things on there.
Emily asks to see my list, so I retrieve it
from my bag. She takes the list from my hand and scans the items.
While she does that, Noah snaps a picture of me with Miles. At
least that one can go on Instagram now.
“Who knew you’d be able to check off the
celebrity thing, huh?” she says. Then she nods toward Noah. “That’s
definitely an A-list celebrity, if you ask me.”
She did know. I think I can hang with
this Emily girl. Miles and Theo both say they don’t care because
they’re clearly not into boybands, but Kale asks for an autograph
and a selfie with a promise not to post it online for a week so
Noah can enjoy his vacation. I’m amused, especially when Noah
agrees.
“So, do guys in boybands play volleyball?”
Theo calls out, motioning to the net down the beach.
Noah shrugs. “They do now,” he says.
An hour later, my hands are sore, Noah’s
shirtless, and Theo is drunk. Team Noah-Marisol-Kale wins yet
another game because Theo can’t quite serve the ball properly.
“I quit!” Miles shouts. “This is why I didn’t
want you on my team.”
Noah tackles me with a hug. Specks of sand
linger on his body, and I want to volunteer to help him clean them
off, but that’d be way too awkward with Kale staring us down. I’m
not sure if he’s more interested in flirting with me or hanging out
with Noah. He’s star-struck. I guess he doesn’t consider Miles’s
athletic status to be all that famous.
“This was fun,” Noah says, pushing my hair
back over my shoulders. “Just hanging out with normal people. I’m
glad we came. Plus, you crossed something off the list.”
He’s right – item number one. Meet a pro
athlete. Done.
Theo throws away his beer bottles while Emily
gathers up her things to take to her car. I wasn’t so sure about
Horn Island, but now, I’m not quite sure I’m ready to leave. The
sun starts to burn out and fall into the ocean in a heap of bright
red light. I stand on the shoreline, watching the sea water bubble
and foam up against the sand when the tide brings it in and sucks
it back out.
“What’s the deal with the pier?” I ask,
pointing out at the collapsed pier in the distance.
“What about it?” Kale asks. He shields his
eyes and stares. “It’s just part of Horn Island.”
“So a pier just randomly collapsed into the
ocean, and no one bothered to haul away the pieces?” I ask.
“Everyone just thought it’d be okay to leave half a pier standing?
Isn’t that dangerous or harmful to the ocean or something?”
Miles steps
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