An elated thrill ripped through me, and I did my best not to show him how excited I was that he was staying… andfailed miserably.
“Really!Sick!Ahhh, I can’t fucking wait! You have to give me all the tips! There’s this girl at work, Blake, and she told me that I wasgoodbut notthatgood. Can you believe that!? Anyway, I need to prove her wrong. Next time I surf with her, I want to pull the sickest stunts. Just to rub it in her face, y’know? Not in amean way, but in anI told yasoway. Know what I’m saying? Like, I like her and all, but theaudacityshe has to - “
“Finn?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
Alexa Play: Riptide by Vance Joy
The version of Riddick that was relaxed and screwing around in the water was a totally different person from Coach Riddick.
He still didn’t smile, but he was softer somehow. Like the water was his safe place as much as it was mine. If I didn’t know any better, I would almost say he was havingfunteaching me silly tricks.
He stayed way longer than an hour, and the sun was setting by the time we caught our last waves of the day back to shore.
“Good work, shark bait,” he said as we returned our boards to the lean-to.
Since our littleFinding Nemodiscussion, he’d taken to calling me that stupid nickname, and I’d be lying if it didn’t make butterflies erupt in my gut every time he said it.
It made me feel special.
Connected to him in some way.
Like we shared some inside joke that was just between the two of us.
I smiled at him as he toweled off, sliding my board next to his on the rack.
He’d made me switch my shortboard out for a longboard, explaining it was easier to hang ten on something with a bigger counterweight.
With his direction, I had the trick down within a few hours, and I couldn’twaitto show off to the rest of the surf rats after work tomorrow.
“Thanks, Riddick,” I beamed at him. He pulled on his T-shirt, and his lip was curled at the corner.
“No need to thank me, Finn. You earned it.”
Unable to contain my massive smile at his praise, I nodded jovially.
“You wanna stay for dinner? I was planning on making a feast, you know, so maybe I can graduate from shark bait to shark entree.”
His eyebrows rose in surprise, and I swore he almost laughed. Disappointment swirled in my gut as he obviously repressed the urge to smile, but I didn’t say anything about it.
“I’ve got food at home, but I’ll help you cook,” he replied easily, handing me his towel so I could dry off too.
His easy acceptance of my invitation surprised me, and I nodded, still grinning.
“Okay, great! I’m kind of a shit cook,” I admitted, and Riddick frowned as he followed me into the shack.
“The breakfast you made looked good.”
“Yeah, but anyone can make breakfast. It’s just frying shit up in a pan. Anything more advanced than that, and I get all turned around and distracted,” I admitted.
“Distracted?”
“Yeah. Focusing on stuff that doesn’t interest me is, like,reallyhard. I usually need to make a game of it or something. My mom was really good at that. She’s the one that taught me how to make breakfast, actually. She wasn’t home for dinners much, so I was usually on my own and just made frozen shit. She died before she could teach me how to makeanything good from scratch, which sucks. She was a really good cook; she just never had time for it. She was always working, trying to keep a roof over our heads,” I rambled, and I opened my condo-sized fridge and pulled out a packet of chicken breasts.
Riddick pursed his lips as he considered what I’d said, then squeezed my shoulder.
