Page 75 of The Surfer

26

COVE

I reachover the booth table to take the joint from Kev before relaxing back into the leather seat, taking a long drag on the weed.

This is what I need.

“What do you think?” Kev asks me, practically shouting to be heard over the thudding music of the busy nightclub. Tide’s really kicking off tonight.

“Yeah, it’s good,” I reply as I lean back and try to let the familiar taste of the weed relax me.

Fuck me, it’s been a long time since I’ve had one of these.

The music’s loud. The nightclub’s packed out. Busy and fun.

This is the life.

Here I am again. Back in Tide, back where I should be.

But something is off, being here doesn’t feel completely right.

I’m sitting in my usual VIP booth, surrounded by the normal gang of girls and my stoned drug dealer that I’ve not seen since Ripley came to town. So many shot glasses are arranged out on the booth table in front of me. Bottles of alcohol ready to be consumed are waiting to be poured. Everything is prepared for the beginnings of a good night.

Except it all felt odd, it's like something is missing. I’ve never had that feeling before in here, in Tide.

This is strange.

“Hey, Cove,” the girl sitting next to me purrs, leaning into my body. Her manicured hands slowly reach down over my abs and dangerously towards my pants, her sultry voice aimed right in my ear. “I’ve missed you.”

Is she someone I’ve already slept with? I don’t remember. I don’t even know her name and I don’t even care.

I should be aroused by her wandering hands; I should be enjoying this like I’d done so many times in the past year.

But something is missing.

And I knowwhat it is.

Ripley.

Ugh, fuck her.

But I can’t get the American girl out of my head, no matter how many girls cozy up to me in this club or how many joints I smoke. I know I should be feeling better than I did about running away from her, but I’m not. I can’t get over her.

That whole fucking incident at the beach. The argument.

She’d made me confused back there. Her face at the beach when she encouraged me to get back on the surfboard, my heart just melted for her right then and there. She convinced me to do something I never wanted to do again - surf - with just an expression on her face. And I knew that I was in love with her right then. That look she gave me to get me on that board made me fall in love with her right there on the spot.

Fuck.

Ripley Sailor is what’s missing.

At our secret beach she trusted me so completely to not fall off that board and yet I still did. I was pathetic. I failed her just as I failed everyone else a year ago.

Getting out of the water I couldn’t bear to look at her. The way she had to help me out of the ocean was just humiliating. When she pulled me from the water, I saw in her the same expression I’d received from everyone for the last year. That same old expression. That expression of pity. That expression of sympathy. That look at a failure.

And it was me - I was the failure. I’d fucked up in front of Ripley and she saw it all happen. I saw how she looked at me when she pulled me from the water.

There was no going back from that, no reversing how she felt or what she saw.