13. Eliana
THIRTEEN
Griffin issilent the whole drive home, his hands curled into fists on his lap, as he stares out of the window. He’s been silent ever since finishing his heat, listening to music, and tuning us all out. We all tried to cheer him up earlier into the drive, but we quickly realized he couldn’t hear us over his music.
The whole team, minus Gabriel who is gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles and is just as silent as Griffin, discuss dinner plans for the rest of the drive. The uncomfortable feeling of being in a moving vehicle continues to grow the longer I sit in the car, but I don’t want to be rude by forcing myself to fall asleep for the rest of the drive.
As my leg begins to fidget from my discomfort, Griffin presses the side of his leg against mine to stop the shaking. The act is innocent, and more of an indication of his annoyance, but it calms my nerves enough for me to get through this drive awake.
I stare down at my phone, scrolling through the photos I sent through my camera’s Bluetooth, and decide I’ll keep myself distracted by spending the next forty minutes focused on editing my favorite photos and scheduling them to post at different times today and tomorrow. The drive back to The Shredder House is faster than the drive was to Dolphin Bay, in part due to less traffic since we left earlier than others, but mostly due to Gabriel’s urgency to get back.
Gabriel has been just as quiet as Griffin except his anger is palpable. Even though Koa and Maliah came in first place individually, their scores weren’t enough to push the team to first place. We came in third, next to the Rip Raiders, who came in second. I can tell that upsets Gabriel more than anything and I have no doubt that the practices leading up to the next competition will be intense.
I”m almost certain that Gabriel has decades worth of animosity and rivalry toward the coach of the Rip Raiders. They didn”t speak at all today, but I saw them shooting each other dirty looks throughout the whole competition.
“Practice is canceled tonight,” Gabriel says, scowling as we pull into the driveway of The Shredder House, “I’ll see you all tomorrow morning.”
He gets out of the car without another word, slamming the door behind him, and walks to his black Mercedes G-wagon, disappearing inside before he speeds off. We all sit in the car silently watching until his car is out of view.
“Well,” Zale says, opening the van door, “tomorrow is going to be interesting.”
“Very,” Mal sighs, nodding her head in agreement as she jumps out and walks to the trunk with the others to retrieve their boards and bags.
Griffin stays seated beside me; his eyes glued to the spot where Gabriel’s car was parked. I”m not sure what”s going through his head, but his eyes are filled with disappointment and anger. As much as I want to ask him if he”s okay, flashbacks to his reaction from that question earlier today stop me.
I quietly climb out of the van, leaving him behind, and head into the house, taking the stairs two at a time before closing my room door behind me. My phone is blowing up with notifications from our social media pages as supporters share kind words for Griffin on the new posts. I”m blown away by the support for Griffin in the comments and I can”t help but feel sad that he doesn”t know about it. I make a mental note to tell him to check the comments whenever he has time, hoping that it helps to lift his spirits.
I begin taking screenshots of each comment, an idea for the campaign brewing in my mind. I throw my headphones on and take a seat at my desk, turning my laptop on. For the next hour I brain dump ideas and settle on a behind the scenes documentary mini-series on each team member, starting with Griffin for my first campaign.
It’ll cover his journey to recovery, including the rigorous training sessions that led up to his first competition today. I have great footage from his return to the team, but I wonder if I can dig up any pictures or video clips from the day of his accident and recovery at the hospital. I jot down a reminder to speak with Gabriel and see if he has any saved footage from that day.
As I finish up the brain dump, I title it “Strength in Setbacks” and click save just as a knock sounds at my door.
“Come in,” I call out, turning in my chair with a satisfied smile, watching the door open as Griffin steps inside. He’s changed into dark blue swimming trunks and a T-shirt.
“What”s with the creepy smile?” he asks.
I stop smiling and glare at him instead. “What do you want?”
“Get changed and grab your board, I’ll meet you in the water.”
“We’re doing a lesson right now?” I close my laptop and stand, rapidly searching for swimwear.
“Unless you change your mind about learning?”
“No.”
He shoots me a bored look before he turns and makes his way downstairs.
After five minutes of searching fruitlessly for my bikinis, I realize they must be in my laundry basket. With no other options, I’m left wearing my half-body wetsuit without anything else underneath. I quickly change and run down the stairs and out the backdoor, grabbing my surfboard off the racks along the way.
Griffin is already in the water with his back facing the shore. Tossing my board in, I hop on and position myself the way he taught me before I paddle out in his direction. With my adjusted form, paddling doesn”t feel as strenuous as it did before, but I”m nowhere near physically fit enough to paddle with ease for as long as it takes to get to him.
By the time I reach him, I’m breathless and my arms are burning from the strain. He reaches out and grabs onto the nose of my board, pulling me closer to him, giving my aching arms a break.
“Thanks,” I say, catching my breath as I sit up on my board, matching his position.
The sun is starting to set, and the sky is turning a beautiful golden color with fluffy white clouds floating above us and seagulls circling high above.
“I won’t ask how you’re feeling again,” I say, although the question is at the tip of my tongue because of how defeated he looks.
His hair is a tousled mess, and his lips are turned downwards. He looks as disappointed as he must feel.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, gray eyes finding mine, “I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did at the competition, and I shouldn’t have said the things I did. It wasn’t fair to you or nice.”
“Is the Griffin Jones apologizing to me right now?” I ask, teasingly.
It’s enough for a small smile to form on his lips and I grin up at him with smug satisfaction.
“Don’t get used to it,” he teases back, splashing me with water.
“I won’t,” I laugh, splashing him back, “we can call a truce for the rest of today.”
He nods his head in agreement before a comfortable silence settles over us and we continue watching the sun make its slow journey down. Sitting in silence with him doesn”t feel awkward, instead I feel that familiar sense of calm being around him.
“Gabriel seems upset, don’t you think?” I ask, returning my attention to him.
His body stiffens as he sits more upright, but he continues to stare out at the horizon before replying.
“I don’t blame him.”
“Why do you say that?”
“He worked his ass off to help me get my career off the ground just for me to ruin it all in one competition. I know he doesn”t blame me, but he expects me to put my all into getting back to the top,” he says, hunching over, “but I’m not.”
“Why not?”
He sighs and looks over at me, studying my face with his sad grey eyes. I watch the internal battle play out on his face expressions before he closes his eyes and turns back to face the horizon.
“Because I’m scared, Eliana,” he finally says.
My name rolling off his lips causes a chill to run down my spine but the vulnerability in his voice is what really gets me, my hair standing on edge.
He’s scared?
“Of what?”
“I think if I give it my all, I might lose surfing altogether.” The fear in his voice is palpable. “My medical team never cleared me to return to surfing.”
I gasp as realization dawns on me. “It hurts you, doesn’t it? Standing up on your board and surfing, it hurts?”
He swallows, his Adams apple bobbing in his throat before he nods twice. “It hurts to stand, surf... walk, jog. I”m pushing through the pain, but I can feel it getting worse.”
Genuine fear for him forms in my chest and I wonder if I should tell Gabriel. Griffin would feel betrayed, but it might save him from getting hurt again.
“So, the wave conditions today for a blessing in disguise,” I say quietly.
He nods. “I think I’m coming around to accept that I likely won’t be able to surf professionally after this season, but I want to help the team get to first place before I officially retire from the sport. I’m just afraid I won’t be able to surf for fun either if I keep going.”
What would it be like for an athlete to lose the sport they love forever? After witnessing the time and dedication that goes into it I can”t imagine a loss like that being an easy one.
“Gabriel mentioned that the team has a physiotherapist. Have you booked yourself in to get assessed with her?”
“Not yet, but I plan to.”
“I think you really should,” I whisper.
He locks his grey eyes on mine again.
I could get lost in them, so I force myself to look away, clearing my throat and adjusting myself on my board. I’m reading too much into our shared looks and intimate moments. He’s made it clear that he wants me gone from this house, so I refuse to let myself overthink the meaning behind the looks, words, and actions.
No matter how much a part of me wants to…
My mind wanders back to the moment I had with him by the palm tree earlier today. I had gone there to clear my mind, the rejection of being in his company had hurt and I was finding it hard to focus on my job. I hadn’t expected him to come and find me, let alone get as close as he did. His rough hand on my chin, forcing me to look up at him, had been enough to leave me breathless.
I blame my inexperience on the reason why my body reacts so easily to everything he does. I”m honestly just a walking ball of horniness at this point, especially around Griffin.
“So, during your heat today,” I start, forcing my thoughts away from the memory by the tree, “was that Colton you were arguing with out there?”
“The one and only,” he mumbles, shifting on his board.
“At first, I thought he was trying to distract you from catching any waves, but when he didn’t make any moves to catch any himself, I realized he was throwing the competition.”
Griffin stiffens, his eyes returning to the horizon. I wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t.
“Tell me what happened between you two,” I say, nudging him in the shoulder and instantly regretting it when my board starts to teeter.
He reaches out and grabs on to the nose of the board, steadying it for me before finding my eyes again.
“I already told you?—”
“No, tell me the real version.” He studies me silently and I brace myself for his second rejection of the day, but instead he sighs and looks at me up and down.
“Your ankle strap isn’t on,” he points out.
He’s right, I make quick work of strapping it on, returning my attention to him.
After a long pause he finally breaks the silence. “I was dating this girl when my accident happened, her name was Meghan, and I thought she was the one,” he says, his voice small.
I can tell talking about Meghan still hurts him deeply, but I can”t ignore the discomfort that I feel hearing him talk about another girl.
What is this feeling? Jealousy?
I force my face into a neutral expression as I continue listening while my heart beats a million miles per hour in my chest.
“Anyways,” he clears his throat, “six months ago I was competing in the season entry competition with the team. My heat was next, but I realized I hadn’t waxed my board and that I had left my wax in the car.”
He runs a hand through his hair and releases a deep sigh.
“Meghan had offered to grab the wax from my car for me, but it was minutes to the heat, and she still hadn’t returned.” He brings his legs up to his chest and rests his arms on them, staring off into the water.
“I went looking for her and found her and Colton making out against my car, wax in her hand,” he clears his throat and swallows again, “I couldn’t think straight after that, so I went back to the competition and started my heat without waxing my board. I didn’t even realize it until it was too late.”
I swallow. “What happened next?”
“I tried to ride a bigger wave than I’ve ever been on, and my foot slipped. The barrel swallowed me and dragged me all the way to the ocean floor. It felt like a truck had hit me –the pressure of the water was unbearable and all I remember is that seconds later I inhaled the water and passed out.”
“Griffin, I’m so sorry,” I say quietly.
My heart hurts for him. Not only is he carrying around the memories of his best friend and his girlfriend at the time betraying him, but he also has the memories of the accident and the trauma that comes with something so intense.
He doesn’t say anything, but I can see how tense he is as he sits quietly, eyes unfocused. I can’t imagine what it feels like to be betrayed by the two closest people to you. He doesn’t try to hide the emotions anymore, his brows pulling together as he stares down at the water angrily.
“Anyways,” he sighs after a minute or two, “I’m sure you heard the rest of what happened at the competition. Neither of them reached out to me after that. Colton left the team shortly after the accident is what I hear and Meghan…well she’s a journalist, she wrote articles like Pro Surfer, Griffin Jones, Career Ending Injury and Pro Surfer, Griffin Jones, heartbroken and alone.”
“Gabriel had them removed, I think. I couldn’t find much information about your accident online.”
“You looked me up online?” He smirks, winking when my cheeks heat.
It”s nice to see that he”s still able to smile through the pain.
“I just wanted to know what I was up against. I researched everyone on the team.” I mumble.
“Mhm, I’m sure you did.” He chuckles.
I want to tell him that I know what it’s like, losing the two people closest to you in a single moment, to have horrible articles about you published for your hometown to see. But I don’t tell him, too afraid it will reveal my past, too afraid he’ll use it against me to force me to leave.
Even though he apologized and he”s being nice right now, it doesn”t change the fact that he wants me gone.
“You didn’t deserve that,” I whisper.
He nods in agreement. “I didn’t.”
“But you also can’t let that day hold you back, life is too short.”
“I don’t know how to let it all go, how to move on,” he confesses, frowning slightly.
“If today was your last day, would it be enough? Would you leave happy? Knowing that instead of enjoying life you”re letting the past hold you back?” I ask, finding his eyes.
“That’s a deep question, but no, this life wouldn’t have been enough, and I wouldn’t leave happy.”
“Then use that as motivation to do all the things you want to do, that you’re scared to do. Use that as motivation to live a little.”
His eyes travel along my face as his brows raise slightly. “Are you always this optimistic?”
I laugh softly. “Not always, but I’ve been trying ever since deciding to take this job.”
“Well, you’re doing a great job so far.”
“At being optimistic or at my job?”
“Both.” My face turns Crimson.
We settle back into our comfortable silence, my heart pounding against my ribs, as the ocean gently rocks our boards side to side. The cool breeze sends a chill through me, and I begin to shiver lightly. Griffin glances over once my teeth start chattering.
“I think it’s safe to say we won’t be doing our surf lesson tonight, no waves,” he says, laying down on his board and paddling it around to face the shore, “follow me, I have something I want to show you.”
I lay on my board and paddle after him, the sway of the waves making it easier to keep up with him.