Who is this handsome man, Chloe????
Ava
You cannot send a selfie of you SURFING WITH JASON MOMOA and then leave us hanging!!
Leo glances over my shoulder, and I let him read their onslaught of messages. Might as well let him see what I’m dealing with…and what chaos my mistake has caused.
He stifles a laugh. “I say you roll with it. Let them speculate.”
“Oh no, I can’t do that.” I begin pacing back and forth in the sand. “I’ve been on less than five dates in my life and no second dates.” The words are out before I can reel them back in. Why did I admit that? Just piling on the embarrassment. I put a hand to my forehead.
“Really? Why’s that?” Leo’s question is inquisitive, not judgmental.
“Because…I guess I’ve never really felt a connection with anyone, and I don’t want to waste anyone’s time. Plus, my main focus has always been school and work…Dating seems so awkward. I hate it.” I usually struggle to put my feelings into words, that’s why I prefer print to conversation. Writing gives me time to work out how I feel. But, I just expressed that very clearly. And it’s the truth.
Yes I've been known to have crushes, but that feels safer. Admiring a guy from afar is a harmless hobby, there’s no risk. That might be a sad reality I need to delve further into later. Possible reason for therapy as well.
Leo runs a hand through his hair. “I get that.”
“Why can't it be like a romcom movie?” I say it sarcastically, but there’s a part of me that really wishes it could be that magical.
“That’s how I felt when I started surfing too. They make it look easy on TV, but there’s so much technique and nuance.”
Surfing, right. We’re not here to talk about my sad dating life. “I’m just gonna deal with this later.” I type a short message.
Accidentally sent that pic of me and Leo. He’s just my surf instructor.
Then I place my phone in my backpack…on silent.
Grateful for a distraction, I say, “All right, I’ve got one more pop up to practice.” I’ve improved steadily over the last nine. This is number ten, and I want to nail it.
I’m about to cobra when I hear Leo’s voice. “Benjamin, hey bud.”
I look up to see a younger version of Leo—except short, dark hair, instead of long. He’s wearing a Miami Heat jersey and carrying a basketball under his arm.
“Hey Dad.”
Leo gives me a hand, and I rise to my feet.
“This is Chloe, Ms. Val’s niece.”
I give a small wave. “Nice to meet you.”
“Is my dad making you practice the pop up a hundred times?”
“It feels like it, but I’m apparently not even close to being in shape enough for surfing.”
“Yeah, he’s a stickler for the perfect pop up.”
“Hey now, it’s the foundation of surfing, which you would appreciate if you came out with me more.” Leo gives Benjamin’s shoulder a playful push.
“Dad, I’m a baller not a surfer.” As he says it, he spins the basketball on his finger.
“That’s impressive.” Benjamin’s clearly talented. I glance at Leo, and there’s a glow of adoration in his eyes as he looks at his son.
“You play?” Benjamin asks.
I shift my weight to my back foot. “Not in high school or anything, but I would shoot in our driveway a lot for fun. I’m a huge Denver Nuggets fan.”
