Free Rough Waters by Nikki Godwin

aren’t little kids, but Vin
sure as hell has a way of making me feel like one.
    “What are you doing out here alone anyway?”
Topher asks, changing the subject.
    “Eh, got tired of listening to the
Billabong/Hurley battle in there,” I say. “Do you know Nat Young or
Taj Burrow?”
    Topher swigs his blue liquid and then laughs
as he caps the bottle. “Not personally, no. I wish,” he says. “Taj
is one of the biggest names in the world. Nat’s a Cali guy, surfs
for Hurley like John John does. Taj has been on the world tour for
a while, but Nat’s an up and coming surf star.”
    I look back out at the water. The whitecaps
glisten in the moonlight, but that’s about all I can see over the
black water.
    “Do you think that’ll ever be you?” I ask.
“You know, world tour, surfing the best waves on the planet with
the most elite surfers on Earth?”
    Topher laughs. “I’m not that good,” he says.
“I’m the best in Horn Island, maybe even Crescent Cove. But it
would take a lot of training, preparation, and tons of events to
even get close to where they are. And you know, it’d help to have a
sponsor because God knows I can’t afford the entry fees.”
    He pops a sugar cube into his mouth and
stares out across the water. I wish we were texting instead of
sitting on the beach. Topher is always so vocal and open via text
message. He rambles on until his battery dies. In person, lately,
he seems more solemn. At least he has the sugar cubes tonight.
    “Vin has to sign you eventually,” I tell him.
“There are only so many people he’d want representing Drenaline
Surf. I think he just wants you to go to college and give reality a
try first.”
    Maybe that’s what Vin wants for me too. Maybe
he wants me to go to school, meet people, take classes, write
papers, and get some fancy little degree that means nothing in
today’s economy. Drenaline Surf is a business. It’s a reality. It’s
good enough for me.
    “You know, I don’t think he’ll ever sign me.
It’s stupid because he tells me how in ten years, I’ll be the next
local legend. Kids will remember me the way we all remember Shark,
but he won’t sign me,” Topher says. “He went as far as Florida to
scope out Logan. I don’t know the guy like I know the Hooligans,
but I just know, in my gut, that he’s not right for us. He might
have this image that Vin likes, but he never knew Shark and he
doesn’t know what Drenaline stands for. He doesn’t belong.”
    That alarming feeling of exile invades my
stomach. I tuck my legs up closer to me, my knees to my chest.
Maybe Logan, Colby, and I should all just go back to the east coast
where we came from. Topher’s eyes grow wide when he realizes what
he just said – and how I took it.
    “Shit,” Topher says. “I didn’t mean it like
that. You belong here. Hell, Colby even belongs here in some ways.
I just think Logan doesn’t have Drenaline Surf in his heart. You
do. I know you do. If Drenaline Surf was the ocean, you’d be the
moon. You balance everything.”
    “Nice save,” I tell him. “How is it even
possible that you don’t have a girlfriend when you use lines like
that?”
    He looks away, like maybe he’s embarrassed or
just super shy about girls. I really don’t get it, though. Topher
is completely adorable, has the best heart in the world, and he’s a
surfer.
    “Girls don’t like me,” he says. “Horn Island
guys have a reputation. They think we all look like Miles and act
like Theo. It hurts the good guys like Jace and me.”
    “But Miles has a girlfriend,” I remind him.
“And Theo does, right?”
    Topher shakes his head. He tells me how
Theo’s girlfriend broke up with him because of his drinking habits.
From what I’ve heard, he’s drunk more often than he’s sober.
    “He was actually suspended for three days at
work last week,” Topher explains. “You can’t be a drunk lifeguard.
After what happened, they just feel sorry for him and give him a
lot of extra