Wilby cracks his neck. “I was born ready. I think so, anyway. To be honest, I’ve never actually been surfing before. But it looks really cool. I’ve always wanted to learn.”
“It’ll be fun. Silvie’s pretty much a pro now,” I tease.
“He’s lying. I’m terrible. Trust me, no one is worse than me,” Silvie says as she picks up her board.
“Hey, now! A for effort!” I call as we head down to the water, boards tucked under our arms.
The sun is already starting to rise, and the beach is still quiet, the perfect time of day to come down and find peace before the chaos of the day.
Silvie paddles out as I showed her last time, confident and smooth.I’m proud of her for trying again, even though I’m not sure how much she enjoyed it last time.
God, she looks stunning in that bathing suit.
Wilby follows, just as determined as Silvie. Those two are competitive I’ve discovered. He does a few rounds with me and gets the hang of it and stays upright.
At the end, he pops up, laughing and sputtering. “I love it here. I’m never leaving!”
Silvie attempts again and wipes out spectacularly. I laugh and swim to her, and she pops up laughing. “I’m trying!”
“You’re doing great!” I call cheerfully.
We surf for a while, and Wilby and I catch a few good ones. He’s a good sport, and we cheer each other on. Silvie whoops and finally lands one that she rides all the way in, her grin wide.
“Did you see me?” she calls, excitedly.
“I did!”
Wilby walks through the shallows and lets out a scream that makes Silvie and me both turn instantly.
“Oh, my God,” he says, his voice high with panic. “No, no, no, no.”
“What?” Silvie says, panicked. “What happened?”
“Something bit me!” Wilby gasps. “I stepped on it!”
He hops on one foot, slapping at his foot.
I scan the water. “Oh, shit. Jellyfish.”
Wilby squeals. “I’m sorry, what?”
Silvie’s eyes go wide. “Oh, no. That’s bad. That’s really bad.”
Wilby limps toward me, starting to panic. “What do I do? Somebody help me!”
Silvie grabs his arm. “I know what to do!”
“Do it!” Wilby moans.
I open my mouth to offer advice, and Silvie beats me to it.
“I can pee on him,” she blurts. “I read that you’re supposed to pee on it.”
There are a few seconds of intense silence amongst us.
Wilby stares at her in horror as if she’s lost her mind.
“You’re not peeing on me!” he says, his voice cracking.
