Out in the Surf (Out in College 9)
“Ouch. That must have hurt.”
“Yes and no. I was relieved to be out of the relationship, but very bummed that I’d lost my friend. I still feel that way. I think she did too. We’ve done a good job of staying away from each other…till today.” I spotted our waiter heading over with our dinners, and quickly added, “I’m not sure what to think about a pre-existing contract written into the purchase agreement. On one hand, it’s standard procedure, but it feels…too convenient again.”
Luca waited till our server left to reply. He picked up his fork and twirled it in his mashed potatoes thoughtfully.
“What are you afraid of exactly? Do you think Jay’s going to rescind his deal if you don’t honor his daughter’s contract?”
“No.”
“Do you think you’d have a hard time working with her?” he prodded.
“No.”
He cut into his fillet and speared a piece of meat before asking, “Then what’s the problem?”
“She also mentioned she’s dating Andy Dugan.”
“Who the fuck is that?”
I snickered at his comedic delivery. “He’s a well-respected surfer, and he’s ranked way higher than me.”
“Oh. A rival. So it’s a double whammy. Your girl sails in with your arch nemesis and brings a bunch of whale gear for you to sell in a store you don’t own yet. And I’m assuming you have to beat this Andy dude in the holiday wingding if you’re going to make your goal.”
I snorted. “She’s not my girl. And it was dolphin gear. As for Andy…after I got over the surprise, I let it go. I don’t care that they’re together. But it feels like a lot of bad mojo coming at me at once.”
“And you’re afraid of past failure—the ex, the rival—tainting your new start.”
That was…true.
“Maybe so.”
“Totally so,” he corrected around a mouthful of food. “I get it. Our stories are different, but I know how you feel. I was so desperate not to let my past fuck up my future that I left home and moved across the country. I didn’t want anyone I used to know to feel sorry for me. I felt sorry enough for myself. I thought a geographic change would solve my problems. News flash…it’s been a nice temporary reprieve, but I still have to work on me. Is hockey who I am? Do I need a job in my sport to prove I’m still worthy? Or should I shuck it and do something new?”
“You have options.”
“Everyone does, Cal. You do too. You’re not stuck. If owning that shop is your passion, you’ll either make it work with the ex or you’ll put your foot down and call your own shots. Maybe you suggest adding an addendum to the contract. That would be reasonable since she’s a newer client,” he continued matter-of-factly.
“How do you know all that?”
“My parents are lawyers. One of my grandmothers is a high-powered litigator. Law is in my blood.” Luca plucked a french fry from my plate and smiled.
I narrowed my gaze. “Oh. Have you considered going to law school?”
“I have. I thought I’d never say this, but I’m open to anything and everything at this point. Colby was telling me there might be an opening for a Pee-Wee coach soon. I don’t think the pay is great.” He shrugged nonchalantly and speared another bite. “It sounds more like a part-time gig.”
Luca had made it his mission to get to know Colby and the men’s hockey coach at Long Beach. They didn’t have a job for him, but he was more invested in building relationships that might lead to other opportunities after graduation. He volunteered to help out when he could and according to him, just being on the ice again was all he needed. I wasn’t so sure about that.
I’d seen the gleam in Luca’s eye after his first visit to the rink. He couldn’t sit still and he couldn’t stop talking about the drills, the players, the energy. His descriptions were almost poetic. The tight feel of his skates after months of wearing flip-flops, the wobbly feel of trudging over the rubber mats on blades, and the feel of the stick in his hand.
His voice had lowered reverently when he recalled his first time gliding onto the ice after so many months away. He’d started and stopped, then shook his head and sighed, claiming he couldn’t do the moment justice. Not realizing he already had.
The thing was…I knew exactly what he meant. Except it was the ocean for me. I’d been surfing since I was a kid—probably before I learned how to ride a bike. I had a deep connection with surfing. Call it my hobby, my sport, my professional endeavor, or my blind ambition in the face of passing time. Labels didn’t matter. Surfing was ingrained in my very being. The way hockey was for Luca.
We belonged to different worlds.