Shaking the water out of my hair, I picked up my board and headed back out into the waves after face planting into the sand on my last attempt.
“You right, mate?”
Turning around, I saw a guy with long blonde dreadlocks effortlessly slide onto his board and start to paddle out. “Yeah, I’m fine.” The last thing I wanted was strangers feeling sorry for me.
“You need a wetsuit if you’re going to keep trying.”
“You might be right. It’s fucking freezing out here,” I admitted.
“It’s only gonna get worse.”
“Thanks,” I replied before I copied my new friend, flipping my board and diving under the wave crashing on top of us.
Another couple of waves and I’d spat out another few mouthfuls of saltwater, and I was ready to call it a day. One last wave, I promised myself this was it. I was going to nail this ride then I was going to get some breakfast. Drifting beyond the breakers, I sat on my board as the early morning sun broke over the horizon, bringing with it a beautiful sunny day.
When I spotted someone taking on the dunes in a bright orange tank top and black leggings, I could’ve sworn it was Claire. I didn’t think she was back. I hadn’t heard from her since she’d gone home. Suddenly full of energy, I looked over my shoulder and saw the perfect set rolling through.
The waves were perfect.
My attempt to catch one however, was pathetic.
I missed the first.
Fell off the back of the second.
Caught the third only to be distracted while I was trying to right my feet, sending me toppling backwards and landing with a splat on my back in the shallow water.
Pissed off and embarrassed, I grabbed my board, angrily yanked the tie around my ankle and stomped up the beach. I was so frustrated with my shitty efforts; I didn’t even notice the woman standing beside my towel smirking at me until I was right in front of her.
“That didn’t look like much fun.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” I grumbled.
