Surfing might’ve been my favorite thing in the world, but photography came a close second. I’d picked up a camera when I was fifteen, taken a few photos, and that had cemented my obsession. I’d started out taking photos of other surfers back when I was trying to learn. I’d study those photos forever, trying to learn their techniques and see how I could tweak it to fit my style.
Lately I took photos to clear my mind. Something about being behind the lens gave me a clarity I didn’t normally possess.
While I was partial to my DSLR camera, I also had a thing for old film cameras. I loved finally getting to develop the film and seeing photos I’d forgotten I’d even taken. I loved the mystery of not knowing what was going to turn up.
When I couldn’t sleep, I spent a lot of time in my darkroom.
That’s where I was, lost in the tasks that had become effortless for me, going through the motions—but my head wasn’t in it like usual—when I ended up ruining the film by exposing it to a small amount of light.
“Fuck,” I groaned, throwing my hands down on the table. Something fell, but I couldn’t be bothered to see what it was.
I stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind me. I stomped up the steps, my anger a vibrating force around me.
I topped the stairs and turned to my left to head for my room when a door at the other end of the hallway opened. Ari poked her head out and looked at me with wide shocked eyes.
“Are you okay?” she asked. “I heard a door slam.”
“Just peachy,” I snapped.
She shook her head once and disappeared into the room.
I was sure she was wondering what she’d gotten herself into by staying with me.
I opened the double doors into my room and yanked my shirt over my head. It fell to the floor in a useless pile as I nosedived into bed. Lying on my stomach, I wrapped my arms around my pillow as I willed sleep to come. It was already after three in the morning, and I’d promised to meet Ollie and some of the guys for an early morning surf session. If I didn’t go to sleep soon, I’d fall asleep on my board. It’d happened before, and the guys had made fun of me endlessly.
Rolling to my back, I stared up at the ceiling.
“Dear Sleep, it’s me, Liam, and I kind of miss you,” I mumbled beneath my breath. I sounded like an idiot, but I didn’t really care. My body couldn’t keep running on so little sleep. Eventually, it’d give out.
I began to count sheep like a total loser.
What felt like forever later, I finally drifted off to sleep, but it was a fitful, restless kind of sleep, and I awoke a few hours later feeling more tired than I had when I dove into bed.
My alarm was blaring loudly from my phone, and I quickly swiped my finger over the screen to stop the obnoxious noise.
It was only six in the morning. I’d probably only had two-and-a-half hours of sleep if I was lucky.
I stumbled from my bed over to my dresser and pulled out the first pair of board-shorts my fingers landed on. I changed into them quickly and grabbed a t-shirt and sweatshirt. Something I learned pretty quickly while surfing was how cold you could get out in the water, hence the need for a sweatshirt. A lot of times I wore a wetsuit out in the water, since I could be in it for hours at a time, but I knew that today I wouldn’t be there long.
I glanced briefly at the closed door at the end of the hall when I left my room. I didn’t know why I found myself worried about Ari. I didn’t worry or care about most things or people, but there was something so fragile about her, while at the same time there was a quiet strength that told me she’d been through a lot. I couldn’t allow myself to care, though. Caring equated to a pain in the ass later. It was better to walk through the world with blinders. Few people ever broke through my walls, and that’s why I had so few friends.
Downstairs I grabbed my keys from their designated dish on the kitchen counter and headed out to the garage.
I loaded my board onto the top of my Jeep and slid behind the wheel. Before I could back out of the garage my phone was beeping with a text from Ollie making sure I wasn’t flaking.
I’d like to say that I didn’t bail on my friends often, but that’d be a lie. I texted him back that I was on my way, and tossed my phone onto the empty seat beside me.
Thirty minutes later, I turned onto a gravel road, leading back into what felt like the middle of nowhere. There wasn’t a designated place to park, so you had to make it work. Ollie’s van was already there, as was Jeremiah’s truck, but Brady’s SUV was missing, and I did an internal fist pump that I’d at least beaten one person to our spot.
We all preferred this spot for surfing and hanging out. I didn’t know why, but for some reason this place had remained hidden from tourists. Only locals knew about it, and we wanted to keep it that way.
I took off my shoes and shirt, leaving them in the car before getting out to retrieve my board from the top of the Jeep, and started toward the beach.
Sand kicked up behind me as I headed out to the water. I saw Ollie and Jeremiah already out there, their boards bobbing up and down from the wake.
Ollie happened to glance over his shoulder as my feet hit the water. “Oi. Look. There’s some dude that looks like Liam here, only the real Liam always bails on us.”
“First off,” I called out as I settled on my board and began to paddle toward them, “did you really just say oi? Secondly, I don’t always bail.”