Zalea’s quiet for a moment and I can practically see her sorting through her thoughts.
“When we’re kids,” she begins, “we see our parents as these perfect, untouchable people. Like they have everything figured out and can do no wrong.”
I watch her carefully, listening.
“But then we grow up,” she continues, tracing a lazy circle through the bubbles with her finger, “and we start to realize they’re not perfect at all. That’s usually when the disappointment hits, and we feel like they failed us in ways we didn’t even understand before.”
Her eyes lift to mine. “The thing is, Gabriel. They’re just people. Going through life for the first time too, making mistakes as they go.”
“That doesn’t excuse what I went through,” I say.
“No, not at all,” she agrees. “Your dad was a total dick and he treated you horribly for wanting to pursue surfing instead of a blue collar job.”
She pauses, her voice softening.
“But maybe it helps put things into perspective. You don’t have to be perfect, Gabriel. No one is. You just have to try your best, show up, and love your kids.” I feel my chest tighten as she continues. “And hope you’re not screwing them up too badly along the way.”
She smiles faintly when I don’t say anything. “That’s about the most realistic parenting goal anyone can have.”
I stare at her for a moment longer than I mean to before reaching out and resting my hand on top of her head, giving her an affectionate pat.
“When did you get so smart?” I ask, impressed.
She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “I’ve always been smart. You were just too busy chasing waves to pay attention.”
I chuckle quietly as I brush my thumb lightly against her hair before I let my hand fall away.
“Well,” I say softly, “I’m paying attention now.”
TWENTY-THREE
ZALEA
THREE YEARS EARLIER
“This is bullshit,”Zale snaps, tossing his board into the sand. “You don’t even know what you’re doing. Coach Lawson was way better than you—and he sucked.”
“Careful, Evans,” Gabriel warns, his voice low as he stares down my brother. “You’re about to earn yourself a seat on the sidelines at next week's competition if you keep this up.”
Zale scoffs. “You’d never risk losing. That’s all you care about.”
Gabriel steps closer to him, tension rolling off him in waves. “Do you really want to test me on that?”
Zale doesn’t answer as they face off, eyes locked, both waiting for the other to make the first move.
“Alright, you two,” Kairi cuts in, pushing herself up from the sand beside me. “Let’s remember why we’re here. It’s one of our final practices before competition day, and I don’t plan on wasting it watching you two measure egos.”
This has become routine over the past year. At first Zale ignored Gabriel completely, or spent entire sessions glaring at him from the lineup instead of surfing. Now he hunts for reasons to provoke him. Today is no different.
“Aren’t you going to say something to them?” Maliah whispers beside me.
I stare at the two of them, jaw tight. I’ve tried staying uninvolved, but the team never lets me forget that Zale is my brother, and Gabriel is…well, unofficially, my ex.
“No,” I mutter, pushing to my feet and brushing sand from my legs. “Their problems aren’t mine.”
I grab my board and shove through the narrow space between them on my way toward the water, forcing them apart.
“Look,” Zale hisses, “Now you’ve pissed off my sister.”
