in his ears, pounded in his chest. He was thrown forward, through the wall of the pipeline. Miraculously he stayed on his board.
And then he didn’t. The water crushed him down into the churn at the base of the wave. He had time for a lungful of air as he was tumbled over and over in the debris. He felt the tug of the surfboard at the tether to his ankle. He’d surface as long as he was tied to his board. Then his lifeline snapped. His last connection to anything that floated was gone. He scrambled toward the surface, kicking hard, only to be rolled under again. His lungs felt as though they’d burst. He was going to black out shortly and then it would all be over. The singing of the ocean in his ears had become a cacophonous shout.
Again, he felt the swell beneath him. He broke the surface, gasping, knowing another wave waited to push him under.
But there was no other wave. He had been thrown beyond the rocks. He was in a lull between the giant rollers. His surfboard floated at his side.
He grabbed it, heaved it under his body. The next wave was smaller over here past the rocks. The foam of its crest pushed him in toward the shore. He coasted into the sandy part of Abalone Cove and limped up the beach, out of harm’s way.
Devin turned and looked out to sea. Another huge wave was forming out there. Rain still pelted him. He realized his body was sore and looked down. He had cuts and scrapes everywhere from the debris in the water. Rain made the blood run down in rivulets across his skin. It could have been worse. Wind ripped around the silhouetted rocks to the north and plucked at the houses on the cliffs just south of him. He turned again to where the Breakers hunched a shoulder against the storm.
He wasn’t quite sure how he’d lived through that wave. By all rights he should be drowned or his naked body shattered against the rocks. He’d think about that later.
What he knew now was that there was no escaping what was about to play out at the Breakers. He couldn’t leave Kee, either by moving to Milwaukee or letting the ocean solve his problems permanently. Maybe she would need him someday, if only as a friend. And he’d be there for her.
He was in for it now. Kee would look for her destined lover, trying to find her magic. He would keep silent about his own feelings. He was good at that. No one need know about his sick longing for Kee. And no one ever could know. Especially not Kee. Maybe he ought to try keeping his distance though, just in case.
He balanced his board on his head and began the long trudge home.
*****
Kee practically ran into Devin as he came out of his room at a jog.
He stopped dead, looking dismayed.
“Oh,” they both said.
Kee frowned. There were scrapes on his jaw. She examined him quickly. He was bundled up, probably going out somewhere. Normally she would have known where he was going. It hurt that she didn’t. His knuckles were scraped too.
“You been fighting?” she asked. Then she realized that such a personal question came from a time before she’d found out he was teaching some girl to surf on Saturday. “Sorry, it’s none of my business.” But wait. He was bleeding. Even as she watched, a bright spot of blood bloomed on his t-shirt where it was just visible under his V-neck sweater. That changed things. “You are, uh, bleeding.” She tapped her collarbone.
He pulled his sweater over the stain then looked away. She couldn’t see his expression properly. “No. I haven’t been fighting.” He turned back toward her. He looked as though he was holding his face very still, like he was posing for one of the paintings she’d done of him. “I was helping Tris with an engine over in the garages. It slipped. He feels bad, so it’d be good if you didn’t say anything.”
“I won’t.” It hurt that he thought she might. Hadn’t they been sharing secrets since they were nine?
“You going down to breakfast?”
That hurt even more. It was a question you’d ask
And then he didn’t. The water crushed him down into the churn at the base of the wave. He had time for a lungful of air as he was tumbled over and over in the debris. He felt the tug of the surfboard at the tether to his ankle. He’d surface as long as he was tied to his board. Then his lifeline snapped. His last connection to anything that floated was gone. He scrambled toward the surface, kicking hard, only to be rolled under again. His lungs felt as though they’d burst. He was going to black out shortly and then it would all be over. The singing of the ocean in his ears had become a cacophonous shout.
Again, he felt the swell beneath him. He broke the surface, gasping, knowing another wave waited to push him under.
But there was no other wave. He had been thrown beyond the rocks. He was in a lull between the giant rollers. His surfboard floated at his side.
He grabbed it, heaved it under his body. The next wave was smaller over here past the rocks. The foam of its crest pushed him in toward the shore. He coasted into the sandy part of Abalone Cove and limped up the beach, out of harm’s way.
Devin turned and looked out to sea. Another huge wave was forming out there. Rain still pelted him. He realized his body was sore and looked down. He had cuts and scrapes everywhere from the debris in the water. Rain made the blood run down in rivulets across his skin. It could have been worse. Wind ripped around the silhouetted rocks to the north and plucked at the houses on the cliffs just south of him. He turned again to where the Breakers hunched a shoulder against the storm.
He wasn’t quite sure how he’d lived through that wave. By all rights he should be drowned or his naked body shattered against the rocks. He’d think about that later.
What he knew now was that there was no escaping what was about to play out at the Breakers. He couldn’t leave Kee, either by moving to Milwaukee or letting the ocean solve his problems permanently. Maybe she would need him someday, if only as a friend. And he’d be there for her.
He was in for it now. Kee would look for her destined lover, trying to find her magic. He would keep silent about his own feelings. He was good at that. No one need know about his sick longing for Kee. And no one ever could know. Especially not Kee. Maybe he ought to try keeping his distance though, just in case.
He balanced his board on his head and began the long trudge home.
*****
Kee practically ran into Devin as he came out of his room at a jog.
He stopped dead, looking dismayed.
“Oh,” they both said.
Kee frowned. There were scrapes on his jaw. She examined him quickly. He was bundled up, probably going out somewhere. Normally she would have known where he was going. It hurt that she didn’t. His knuckles were scraped too.
“You been fighting?” she asked. Then she realized that such a personal question came from a time before she’d found out he was teaching some girl to surf on Saturday. “Sorry, it’s none of my business.” But wait. He was bleeding. Even as she watched, a bright spot of blood bloomed on his t-shirt where it was just visible under his V-neck sweater. That changed things. “You are, uh, bleeding.” She tapped her collarbone.
He pulled his sweater over the stain then looked away. She couldn’t see his expression properly. “No. I haven’t been fighting.” He turned back toward her. He looked as though he was holding his face very still, like he was posing for one of the paintings she’d done of him. “I was helping Tris with an engine over in the garages. It slipped. He feels bad, so it’d be good if you didn’t say anything.”
“I won’t.” It hurt that he thought she might. Hadn’t they been sharing secrets since they were nine?
“You going down to breakfast?”
That hurt even more. It was a question you’d ask
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