The Other Side of Tomorrow

My cheeks flood with brilliant color. “I’m good,” I answer in a squeaky voice.

We haven’t kissed again since that first night on the beach, and while I’ve dreamed of doing it again, I don’t feel quite as bold or as sure of myself as I did then. Maybe it was the cover of night that made me take a risk and kiss him, or maybe it was the magical bubble that seems to cocoon us on those nightly meet-ups, but whatever it is I don’t feel it now. In fact, on the busy public beach, in broad daylight, with hundreds of people around is not where I want to have my second kiss. I can already see that turning into a disaster.

He laughs at me and goes to remove two surfboards off the top of his Jeep, leaning them both against the back.

“This one’s mine.” He points to the orange and cerulean blue one with some kind of swirling design. “And you can use this one.” He indicates the other, bright yellow with a floral design. “It’s my mom’s. It should work well for you.”

I reach out a hesitant hand, touching the shiny board.

“Think you’re ready?” he asks me, crossing his muscular arms over his chest.

“No,” I answer honestly, and my eyes flick up to meet his steady gaze. “But when are we ever ready for anything? You just have to get out there and do it.”

He nods and grabs his board. “Then let’s do it.”

I grab the other board and struggle to carry it, even under my arm.

“Here, let me get it,” Jasper says, taking mercy on me.

/>

We walk side by side, our feet sinking into the sand. The sun shines brightly upon us, my skin already warming. I’m sure by the end of the day my freckles will be darker than normal.

Jasper sets the surfboards in the sand near the water.

“Okay, a couple of things to go over.”

“I’m listening.”

“First” —he ticks it off on his finger— “you’re going to fall, a lot. You might even get bruised or hurt but get back out there and try again. Don’t let it scare you away. Secondly, you might not catch a wave today but we’re going to keep at this until you do—and not like a baby wave, either, I mean a real wave.” I gulp at the idea. “Third, just have fun. That’s what surfing is all about. Having fun and being a part of the ocean.”

“Okay.” I nod. “I can do that.”

He smiles. “Good. Now grab your board and let’s go.”

I grab it and carry it the short distance to the water. I mimic him, walking until the water is about waist height on me and climbing on top of the board. Then we paddle out and wait.

He sits up, his legs dangling over the side, and I do the same.

“Now, we’re going to start with those baby waves first. Don’t chicken out on me, okay?”

“I won’t.”

“When you see one start to rise, paddle toward it and then quickly turn around so it can carry you. That’s when you stand up. It’ll be hard to get your balance at first, but you just have to get used to the feel.”

I nod. I’m nervous, of course, but I’ve wanted to do this forever and Jasper seems like the best person to teach me.

It isn’t long until a small wave forms.

“Paddle, paddle, paddle,” Jasper chants, and I do just that.

I turn the board around, already out of breath and my arms shaking.

I am seriously out of shape.

I used to run a couple of times a week but haven’t at all since my surgery and I can definitely tell a difference in my strength and energy level.

Like an awkward baby gazelle, I try to stand on the board, and promptly fall into the water with a small scream.