Chapter 3
ALEJANDRA
At The Beach, In Every Life - Gigi Perez
When Alejandra surfaced beyond the impact zone after duck-diving beneath the wave, she spotted Sofia sitting in her usual spot. Her best friend was way off to the side of the lineup, where the waves lost interest in trying to prove anything and just gently rocked you, like a giant salty cradle.
Alejandra paddled closer, careful not to disturb whatever reflection-meditation-crying spiral Sofia had gotten herself into this time.
Grief didn’t come with warning signs or a user manual.
It just showed up. Loud, rude, and often when you were in the middle of something inconvenient, like ordering coffee or putting on a wetsuit.
Since Antonio—Sofia’s dad—had passed the year before, she had been a cocktail of storm and sunshine. Most days she kept it together. Other days, not so much. And Sofia, being Sofia, texted Alejandra about her breakdowns the way other people sent weather updates.
“Today I cried just once while diving.”
“Today I didn’t cry at all. Progress.”
“Today I cried three times because the fucking Spotify playlist he made started in the car.”
Grief was a shitshow. But Alejandra and Sofia had been there for each other every messy, salty, ugly-tears part of it.
She wasn’t going to let her deal with the biggest grief of her life alone.
They’d met when they were five, on that very beach bonding over a shared hatred of jellyfish and an obsession with pink floaties.
Some friendships were built for survival.
And Alejandra was sure that this was one of them.
“Look who we have here,” Alejandra chirped as she paddled up next to her. “The most beautiful bride in the realm.”
Sofia sniffed and splashed water on her face like she could hide the redness around her brown eyes.
“Dad won’t be here tomorrow,” she admitted softly.
Alejandra pouted slightly, letting her board drift until they were side by side. “He will,” her voice barely louder than the water lapping around them. “He’s always around.”
“I fucking sound like a broken record,” Sofia muttered. “Always crying. I don’t even know what Ilias sees in me.”
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Alejandra burst. “He worships the literal ground you walk on. That man would drink your piss and eat your shit if the situation required it.”
Sofia scrunched up her nose, then let out a snort. “You’re disgusting.”
“But I made you laugh. Poop jokes always make you laugh.”
“Eres una idiota, but they are always funny,” Sofia joked, wiping her eyes.
There was a beat of calm. Just the two of them floating in the sea, letting the sun warm their faces and the grief ebb out in manageable waves.
“Funny like you not telling me the nerd trio came out straight from a fucking runway?” Alejandra cocked an eyebrow, side-eyeing her best friend.
Sofia blinked. “What did you think they looked like?”
“I don’t know, They are the nerd trio. Nerds? Pocket protectors, bad posture, maybe a suspicious number of cargo pants?” Alejandra flailed her arms for dramatic effect.
Sofia broke into a fit of laughter. “You should stop categorizing nerds like that!”
“Yeah, well, I thought you were the exception, not the blueprint,” Alejandra huffed.
“To be fair, Asma is gorgeous.” Alejandra nodded, as Sofia continued, “Leif’s trying to flirt with her, though... bless him, it’s tragic. He reminds me of Carlos with Amira.”
Alejandra slightly grimaced at the mention of her own brother’s failures, and then took a deep breath, knowing full well that asking that question could make things messier.
She didn’t want Sofia getting the wrong idea.
This wasn’t about love. It never was. Her focus was the third USL title.
The Olympic medal. Everything else came second.
But she also knew her body needed release to stay sharp, and a no-strings night with a Superman look-alike felt like the perfect kind of fuel.
“Is Callum single? And if so... can I attempt a one-night stand during your wedding, or would that be frowned upon?”
Sofia’s grin went feral, her romantic mind clearly warped by having found her own prince charming on a surfboard.
She’d once been the cynical one between them.
Now, she skipped through life with rose-colored glasses and zero shame.
“He’s definitely single. I think he was engaged, actually.
No idea what happened, and honestly, sometimes I can’t understand half the shit he says with that accent. ”
“Where’s he from? He sounds from Scotland or Wales, maybe?”
She’d spent enough time on the competition circuit that deciphering accents was basically a professional skill.
“One of the two. I don’t remember. Surely somewhere where vowels go to die. Ask him,” Sofia said, wiggling her eyebrows like the little devil she was.
“I will. I mean, what do I have to lose?”
“A night of wild sex? A sex glow? Bragging rights about boning the hottest nerd alive?”
Alejandra gave her a solemn nod. “Do I have your blessing to frolic freely on your wedding night, oh mighty bride?”
Sofia lifted a hand dramatically. “You have my blessing, Alejandra López Romero. Everything my maid of honor desires, she shall receive.”
Alejandra hadn’t been interested in a guy in a very long time, probably since Edward had cheated on her with that very twenty-something who had stolen her title the year before.
She had grown up around very defined bodies; it wasn’t the only thing that called to her, but Callum, for a one-night stand, was definitely the best option she could have asked for.
When she saw him entering the garden, she had to do a double take.
Why did that guy look like someone who could play Superman in a movie theater, and instead he was an accountant—or something like that; she wasn’t sure.
By his looks, and the way he spoke to her, she was pretty sure he was flirting back.
Her self-esteem had always been pretty high, and by the way he looked at her, she was quite sure they could be a match made in heaven, or in the bedroom.
She prayed he could use his body as she hoped to.
She had encountered so many disappointing, good-looking men unable to pleasure her.
She was searching for a night not to forget, and she hoped Callum of the Nerd Trio would help her release her tension.
“Let’s head back?” Sofia asked, interrupting her thoughts. “Party wave?”
Alejandra grinned. “Let’s go, baby.”
They turned their boards and paddled farther out, shoulder to shoulder, lining up for a wave like they had a thousand times before.
The ocean lifted beneath them in a slow, familiar breath. Alejandra felt it before she saw it—the subtle pull under her board, the water gathering itself, energy travelling across miles of open sea before arriving beneath them. Instinct took over. Years and years of muscle memory.
“Go, go, go!” Sofia laughed.
They paddled hard. The wave caught them both.
For a brief, weightless second, it felt like flying.
Alejandra sprang to her feet, the board accelerating beneath her as the face of the wave opened ahead.
Water hissed beneath the rails. The wind pushed damp strands of hair from her face.
Beside her, Sofia was laughing so hard she could barely stay balanced.
The wave wasn't big. It wasn't perfect. It wouldn't earn anyone a trophy or a highlight reel.
It didn't matter.
The feeling settled deep in Alejandra's chest anyway—that impossible combination of freedom and surrender that had made her fall in love with surfing as a child.
The sensation of moving with something far bigger than herself, of reading the ocean correctly and being rewarded with a few precious seconds of harmony.
No expectations. No judges. No rankings.
Just her, Sofia, and the sea.
The sun was beginning its slow descent toward the horizon, painting the water gold around them. Their laughter carried across the surface as they rode the wave all the way in, wobbling, nearly colliding twice, neither of them caring.
A moment just for them before the chaos of the wedding wrapped itself around everything again.