Chapter 24
Hannah
Paddle faster,” Ginny shouts. “You’re going to lose it!”
“I’m going as fast as I can,” I yell. I glance over my shoulder to where she’s standing in knee-deep water, assuring myself she’s safe, then turn back to the horizon.
The wave swelling ahead of me is perfect, but if I don’t catch it at the right moment, I’ll close out my first session back in the water in nearly a year with a whimper.
The problem is, after two straight hours of trying and failing to get up the nerve, my body’s drained.
I dig past the exhaustion and force my arms to cut through the water, breathing hard, and—now.
I paddle away from the wave as fast as I can, adrenaline surging as it crests behind me, both a threat and a wonder.
It lifts my board, carrying me with a sublime force, like God himself reaching down and scooping me up.
I push myself to my feet and adjust my toes, and the minute I’m balanced, the board and I slice through the water.
The wave barrels around me and I throw out my arms as wide as I dare, feeling the salty ocean spray whip my cheeks, feeling the sun, high and hot in the jewel-blue sky, kiss my forehead.
Ginny whoops, and suddenly all I can picture is that day: Ginny gliding across the water just like this. Falling, hitting her head on the board, getting pulled under by the tide.
I jerk and tumble off my board into the waves. When I surface, spitting out salt water, she’s floating on her back beside me.
“You got close. Next time you’ll make it to shore.”
I tug my board to my side using the ankle strap, then join Ginny floating on my back. I watch the fluffy condensation inch across the sky. “Hey, Gin, what was it like?”
She bobs in the water. “To drown?”
“I’ve imagined it a thousand times.”
“I’m surprised you’ve never asked before. I like to think that when I hit my head, I stopped being conscious. So the rest didn’t hurt. It was like going to sleep in the waves.”
My eyes hunt past the clouds, into the deeper blue. “Maybe the last thing you saw was the sky.”
“That would’ve been nice,” she agrees. “I did always look up when I surfed. Remember how you used to yell at me to keep my eyes on the waves?”
I nod. “Do you think you’re up there now, looking down at me?” Then I shake my head, make a scoffing sound. “That’s a stupid question.”
“The only place you know I am for sure is a hole in the ground at Fairview Cemetery.”
I startle so hard I dip beneath the water. “Don’t say that.”
She touches my shoulder. “Sorry. Just kidding. I’m right here, and I always will be.” She looks off into the distance. “Someone else is here, too.”
I follow her gaze. Of all people, Theo strides across the long stretch of golden sand, wearing nothing but black Wayfarers and olive-green swim trunks.
He spots me and waves, and I’m so busy wondering at the sight of him that I don’t sense the next wave until it knocks me under.
This time, when I surface spitting salt water, Ginny’s laughing.
“Not a word,” I warn, stalking out of the ocean. I meet Theo on the sand near my blanket and drop my board, tossing the leash. “What are you doing here?”
“Bowie told me that, uh . . . ” He looks around. The San Gabriel Mountains tower in the distance. “You were out here surfing for the first time since . . . ”
“So you came to babysit me?”
Without being invited, Theo drops onto my blanket. “Since we have the day off, I figured we could keep working on that song we started on the plane.”
I catch the zipper of my wetsuit and pull. The Pacific is frigid, but here on the shore the sun’s so warm it’s already making me sweat. Theo’s gaze drops to the sand as I step out of the suit, his opaque Wayfarers hiding his eyes. “You want to work on our day off?” My tone is doubtful.
He brushes sand off the blanket. “Or we could just . . . hang.” I walk over and yank off his Wayfarers. He blinks up at me, startled, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
“I don’t like not being able to see what you’re thinking.” I slide on his glasses. “And I guess I can work on the song.” I drop down next to him, comb through my wet tangles as best as I can, then squeeze water out of my hair like a dishrag.
Theo clears his throat. “How do you want to start? Just, uh . . . jump in?”
I’ve been imagining this new song with a clipped, tense drum intro, like a racing heart. Using my thumb, I tap the rhythm on my leg. Dun-dun-dun-dun-dun-dun-dun-dun dun-dun-dun-dun.
“Slow down, you’re moving too fast,” Theo sings softly, surprising me. I bite back my smile when his voice warbles. His singing voice is as bad as he warned, but he gets an A for effort.
I keep drumming as he adds, “I want to catch you, sit beside you.”
“My dad keeps calling me,” I sing.
Theo smiles. “My friends keep texting me.”
I let my voice lift as high as it will go. “Sorry, guys, I’m out of range.” I take a deep breath. “They just want to know if I’m okay.”
Theo catches my eyes and we start laughing at the same time.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?”
He draws his legs up and wraps his arms around his knees. “The sound you’re building is great. We can fine-tune the lyrics later.” “Look at that grin.” Ginny appears, leaning forward and slapping my leg. “You’re happy, admit it.”
“Shut up.”
“What?” Theo’s eyes widen. “Why?”
“Never mind.” But Ginny’s right, and suddenly I can’t repress the feeling.
It’s like some locked door has been cracked open with a crowbar, and happiness is streaming out.
I nudge Theo’s thigh with my toe. “So you really love your job so much you came all the way out here to do it on your day off? That’s more dedication than most musicians I know. ”
“I do love it.” He catches my foot, even as I try to twist it away. “I might’ve mentioned I minored in music theory—”
“What, at Dartmouth?” I gasp. “Is that where you went to school?”
Theo rubs his thumb against my foot. “Are you trying to tell me I drop Dartmouth a lot?”
“It’s part of your charm, Suit.”
He gestures for me to give him my other foot.
And because I’m still buzzed from my first time back on a board in nearly a year, I do.
He pulls my feet into his lap and circles his fingers around my ankles, like he’s fastening me to him.
“So you can’t leave,” he explains. “No matter how many times I talk about where I went to school.”
I turn to smile at Ginny, but the sand where she sat is empty. She’s gone.
My heart flatlines. Where is she?
“The truth is, I’ve wanted to make music ever since I was a kid,” Theo says, laughing so self-consciously that it redirects my attention back to him.
“But obviously I don’t have any musical talent, so I have to come at it from the business side.
My mom was all excited when I majored in finance.
She thought I’d become a stockbroker like my best friend, Bryan, and finally make us rich, but I chose this.
” He squeezes a ring around my ankles. “She thinks I’m doing this for my dad, because he loved music so much.
Chasing his approval. But it’s not that. ”
“Huh. So you became a Suit because you couldn’t be a musician?”
“What’s that line you wrote in ‘Twin Flames’— ‘If I can’t hold you, I’ll spend my life standing as near as I’m allowed’? That’s how I feel about music. I figure I can at least be a witness to other people’s genius. Or a midwife to it, if I’m lucky.”
“I’ve never heard a man aspire to be a midwife.”
He releases one ankle, leans forward, and taps his sunglasses on my face so they dip down, revealing my eyes. “Maybe you’re hanging out with the wrong kind of men.”
“That doesn’t sound like something Manifest’s Grim Reaper would say.”
“The real nickname’s the Fixer. Just so you know.”
“That either. I think you might be in the wrong job, Suit.” But I know what it feels like to love something so much you’ll settle for whatever small piece you can get.
A wave of anguish passes over me as I scan the beach, still empty of Ginny.
My voice comes out thick. “Does wanting what you can’t have ever get easier? Does it ever feel like it’s enough?”
Theo is quiet for so long that I stop looking for Ginny on the golden dunes and refocus on him—only to find him studying me, eyes scrutinizing my face. “Sometimes,” he answers quietly. “On the very best days.”