A burst of laughter circles the room.
“Exactly!” Simone points at her from across the table. “That’s what we want to avoid.”
When Coastal Current reached out to discuss the potential of this collaboration line, I expected a room full of executivesnodding politely while secretly not understanding a single thing I was talking about.
Instead, they assigned Simone Carter as project lead. She’s a Black, retired female surfer turned business woman with long braids currently piled atop her head. The second she walked into the room this morning, I knew this project was in the right hands. Nothing we’ve discussed feels like performative diversity bullshit for a campaign slogan, it feels real.
“We need waterproof curl protection that doesn’t feel greasy,” I continue. “And leave-in products that can survive salt water.”
Simone nods rapidly while jotting things down. “Got it.”
“And silk-lined hoods for changing ponchos,” I add.
Her eyes widen. “Wait. That’s actually genius.”
“I know,” I reply proudly.
Eliana snorts from her seat, laptop open and fingers flying over her keyboard.
“You’re both terrifyingly passionate,” she says. “In a good way.”
“That’s the goal,” Simone replies. “We need to be passionate about the things that matter.”
The room dissolves into another round of conversation as everyone starts bouncing ideas off one another faster than I can process them. We talk about campaign concepts, photo shoot ideas, community outreach to the right communities, protective style guides, and so much more.
This is what I’ve wanted. Not just sponsorships, competitions, and magazine covers of me with straight hair and skimpy bikinis. I’m going to make an impact.
The younger version of me would’ve killed to walk into a surf shop and see products that were actually made with girls like me in mind instead of treating us like an afterthought, and now I get to help create them.
“You okay?” Eliana asks gently once the conversation around us shifts toward budgeting timelines.
I blink and realize I’ve gone quiet.
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m honestly just really happy.”
Her expression softens with understanding. “This is huge, Kairi,” she says.
I smile down at the sample packaging in front of me.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “It is.”
My phone buzzes beside my notebook and my heart instinctively jumps thinking it’s Colton, but when I glance down, it’s just an email notification, and the disappointment hits harder than it should.
Colton’s been gone for five whole days, and I know if he’s stayed at Bluewater Bluffs this long, things with his family must be going well. I haven’t messaged him because I want him to enjoy this time with them without me being a distraction.
The thought makes my chest ache a little because I miss him—more than I should probably admit. I miss hearing his laugh, and the way he calls medarlin’. I miss the feeling of comfort he gives me when he’s nearby.
I miss him,I think to myself,and I love him.
The realization has been circling my mind for days now, impossible to outrun. I love the way he pushes me, the way he sees me, the way he makes every room brighter the second he walks into it. I especially love that he never asks me to make myself smaller.
I love him, and that terrifies me because Colton isn’t justsome guy. He’s my best friend. The person I trust more than anyone else in the world, and if this goes wrong, I’ll lose more than a relationship. I’ll lose him.
So instead, I flip my phone face down on the table and force myself to focus on the meeting again. Right now, I’m figuring myself out. I’m building something meaningful. When Coltoncomes back to Saltwater Springs…then I’ll figure out what to do with my heart.
When the meetingfinally wraps up, the sky has turned into different shades of pink and orange. I’m exhausted, but it’s the good kind. The kind that leaves your body tired and your soul full.
Eliana and I take the team van and stop at the grocery store on the way to Maliah’s house, tossing snacks into the cart for our first official girls’ night in a long time.
