“Are you conscious?” Carlos barked, slapping her cheek to keep her alert. His eyes were wide, terrified.
“Barely,” she choked out. “My arm…”
“I see it. We’ll fix it. You’re okay. Stay with me, Ale. Just stay with me.”
But her mind was already slipping.
The pain was too much. The cold too deep. The rush of everything too overwhelming.
She drifted.
Somewhere between the water and the sky, she saw Antonio—Sofia’s father—smiling at her like he used to when they were little, clapping from the beach during their first surf competitions. “Venga, campeona. You’ve got this.”
Then her grandparents' faces beaming. Reaching toward her like they were calling her home.
Am I dying?she thought.No. No. Not yet.
But the darkness kept pulling at the edges.
Blue eyes. A soft smirk. Wavy dark hair tousled from wind and sun. The memory hit like warmth against her freezing skin. Calm. Steady. The way he’d held her. The way he said her name like it mattered. Like she mattered. It brought her back to her body, just enough.
She wasn’t sure if she was dreaming or hallucinating. But the next time her brain registered anything, she was being pulled up the beach. White sand, too hot, people running, shouting, chaos. Ilias. Carlos. Amira. Paramedics.
Then, everything went black.
And maybe, that was for the best.
14
ALEJANDRA
If You Ever Want To Be In Love - James Bay
Three days later
Season was over.
No more third USL title.
No more Olympic qualification.
No more Olympic games.
No more glory.
No more medals.
No more records.
Nothing.
The doctors at the Queen’s Medical Center in Oahu had declared that her fall had resulted in shoulder dislocation with suspected labral tear, deep tissue lacerations on left forearm, shoulder, feet, and palm fromreef exposure.
No matter how many times she had tried to convince them that she was fine, that everything would be alright, she needed surgery in the shoulder, and time to heal the cut from the reef who—truthfully—hurt like a motherfucker.
The doctors told her she could wait until her return flight to Spain to fix her shoulder. In Seville, where her trusted medical team worked, she could have the operation and recover quietly from her house in Conil, right in front of the sea.
In almost twenty years of surfing, Alejandra had never dealt with an injury like this. Yes, she had breached her scalp, but the quantity of blood that she had lost with her arm, she hadn’t seen it ever before.
