CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Castor
ONE DAY LEFT
I inhaled the salty air of Northend Shores like my life depended on it.
I stood alone on the far side of the competitors’ waiting area, needing the space to clear my head.
I didn’t know where my family was – probably under a white tent with the world at their feet, oblivious to what was running through my mind.
By the end of tonight, the Foxes – and Dominion – would be ruined.
They’d go to jail for this. It’d be my doing, my fault.
As long as I didn’t hesitate. I’d made it this far, pushing down my emotions with a fake smile. I had one more day.
As for the AB Cup finals – one more wave.
Celebrities walked the shoreline with reporters and influencers, everyone giving interviews about who they expected to win.
Brand teams pitched holo-ads for UV-protectant eye drops, SFP 800, and the latest designer UV-protectant swimwear with five-digit price tags.
I spotted Jaiden at his sponsor’s tent, the fizzy fruit beverage brand Nova and Estelle probably single-handedly kept in business.
Jaiden soaked in the attention. He’d made it all the way to the semifinals, beaten out in a separate heat from me.
Further down the beach, Mayor Whit and Brenson Moorehouse campaigned to the crowds.
Both sides polled well for the election tomorrow, the People’s Astrum Party leading by the smallest margin in two decades.
Here, you’d think a landslide was on the horizon – Mr Moorehouse’s crowd dwindled – but he had the interest of a few, and that was enough.
I checked my phone one last time before tucking it into my bag.
Nova had sent a good-luck text not too long ago, a photo of the four blowfish plushies I’d won for her lined up on a toy surfboard.
We hadn’t talked about us, and I wouldn’t pressure her about it.
I didn’t deserve her. I didn’t know if I ever would.
She was a lighthouse for her community down the bay.
She dimmed for no one. I wished for half her shine, enough to do what was right for a few hours from now.
Don’t hesitate.
A horn blared from the judges’ stand. The women’s final heat was under way.
Pua ran past. ‘We already got this,’ she shouted over her shoulder. ‘Just don’t DQ when it’s your turn.’ Winking, she dove into the water.
She was right. I’d made it to the finals. It was enough to guarantee my place in the top forty-eight. I should be happy and celebrating, but my nerves for tonight kept me humble.
‘Behind the peak, straight into the barrel!’ Announcers gave the play-by-play.
I watched in anticipation, counting down the minutes as Pua hit a frontside air reversal.
There was no doubt in my mind she was finishing first. When she put her mind to something, it was done, her follow-through unshakable. I needed to be unshakable.
The clock ticked down, the end of the twenty-minute heat approaching, and I screamed and shouted for my best friend.
I looked for her official score to be posted, but protestors covered the large hologlass.
The group was dressed in black with neon constellations.
They unfurled a banner, and I prepared myself to see IMMUNE TO BULLSHIT in big block letters, or another phrase protesting Dominion and its Freedom System.
Instead, it read, BEWARE – FLARE ON THE HORIZON.
‘Wake up!’ one of the protesters shouted, lifting their end of the sign higher. ‘It’s coming! A second solar flare is coming!’
I searched the sky. The lightning grid protecting the ozone twinkled like daystars.
Any other day, I would’ve found this as annoying as the Dominion protestors, until I realized those Freedom System protestors hadn’t been lying.
They’d been shouting their truth at us for months, and I, along with my family, had ignored them.
Security was swift to move in, gasps rippling through the crowd. One protestor caught an elbow to the jaw; another was thrown to the ground and handcuffed.
‘Hey!’ I tried to leave the competitors’ waiting area, but Grandfather appeared, blocking me with his arm.
‘These people have the right to protest, but with a permit. Still, I ask that you peacefully remove them.’ People clapped at Grandfather’s words, and in another life I would’ve clapped too, proud to be a Fox in that moment. Instead, I met his gaze with a curt nod.
‘You ready?’ he asked after the crowd had cleared. ‘Today is everything you’ve been training for.’
I sucked in a breath. It’d grown harder and harder to talk to him. He smiled at me, and I felt sick knowing what he’d done. The announcers shouted something over the speakers, but I couldn’t process the words. I drew in another breath as my anxiety climbed.
‘Grandson?’ Grandfather placed a hand on my shoulder just as another horn blared.
‘Time to go.’ I grabbed my board and took off. I didn’t want to look back, but I did. Instead of seeing him, I looked past him, to the edge of the crowd.
Nova.
I hadn’t asked her to come because I’d thought she’d say no. I grinned. Now I was ready.
I ran into the water, embracing its coolness in today’s heat. I couldn’t ask for anything more – the waves were firing, glassy conditions, the water perfect. This was my final heat. I knew this break like the back of my hand. I had this.
My competitor paddled out ahead, ready to snatch the first wave.
I didn’t fight him for it, waiting for the perfect one.
I exploded up the face of my first swell, launching skyward, getting as much air as I could before landing clean on the lip.
The next wave was just as sharp – two frontside three-sixties and an alley-oop.
Cheers filled my ears. I imagined it was Nova.
The thought of her reminded me this could be my last wave.
If the cure didn’t work, I’d take my pain back, no question.
And if everything went perfectly, the Fox name might be enough to ensure no sponsor would touch me.
I didn’t care about that, though. Nova cured outweighed that.
Every Pain Carrier cured outweighed that. This could be it.
There was less than a minute left on the clock, and my competitor wiped out with no time to paddle back out. I turned and smiled. Double overhead. This one was mine.
I closed my eyes for a second as the water barreled over me.
Droplets misted my face, and I couldn’t stop myself from smiling.
I didn’t worry about the roof of the tube falling in on me.
I stayed low, using my weight and line to keep my speed.
I could see the end closing, but I was determined to make it. And I did. Because I didn’t hesitate.
I knew what to do.
The barrel spat me out, and the coast screamed my name.
I couldn’t stop grinning. Reaching shore, I shaded my eyes from the sun and searched for Nova, but I couldn’t find her.
‘Brah!’ Jaiden crashed into me, Pua right behind him.
I beamed, more of our usual crew joining us, everyone crowding around. We waited anxiously in front of the hologlass screen, waiting for the judges to post the numbers and make what I already knew in my heart official.
I drew in a ragged breath and held it.
I had so many emotions. Grandfather had asked if I was ready.
Was I ready for my life to change? Two months ago, this moment was all I wanted.
I’d never dreamed of anything else. I only hoped to win the AB Cup and make the top forty-eight.
Now, I was here with some version of the same dream, but with new priorities.
Of course I still wanted to surf after tonight.
I still wanted a sponsor so I could go out on my own.
But now, no matter what, I wanted to be someone I could be proud of – someone my friends would cheer on.
The hologlass updated, and Jaiden immediately screamed in my ear.
I stumbled back as everyone jumped on me.
‘You did it!’ Pua shook me by my shoulders.
I read my score again and again, not quite believing it. My chest swelled.
I did it. I really did it. I won.
‘You know what that means, right?’ Jaiden punched my shoulder. ‘Challengers Series! Guess who cracked the top forty-eight right beside you?’
I ruffled his hair and pulled him into a headlock. ‘We did it!’
‘Who would’ve thought a South Alta orphan and a rich kid from Crestview would make it?’ said Jaiden.
‘The sport is full of rich kids,’ Pua pointed out.
‘You know what I mean.’
‘I’m just saying. Pointing out he’s mixed and I’m Black would’ve made more sense.’
They hefted me on to their shoulders and carried me toward the podium. I scanned the crowd again for Nova and couldn’t find her. I’d see her tonight, like we planned, but it didn’t stop me from wishing she’d stayed.
A few others brought up my board, the Dominion logo emblazoned on the nose. Grandfather had been so proud to hear me say yes to his sponsorship offer. Just for the home surf, I’d agreed. It wouldn’t last past today. Dominion would crumble, and it’d be because of me.
My smile faltered, and Pua pinched my arm. ‘You good?’
‘Never better,’ I lied.
Jaiden slipped away, reappearing with his sponsor’s talent agent.
‘Great ride,’ said Cayde Harlowe. ‘Jaiden says that Dominion sticker there is just for this race?’ They pointed to my board.
I nodded, unable to speak. Cayde Harlowe had won Worlds five years in a row when they still surfed – would’ve been six if they hadn’t retired after breaking their back at Pipeline. I wasn’t the starstruck type, but I’d also never met anyone whose poster once hung on my wall.
‘Let’s fix that,’ they said. ‘Call me after you finish celebrating.’
My mouth hung open as Cayde disappeared into the crowd.
‘Don’t faint just yet,’ Jaiden joked.