Page 25 of The Surfer

“That’s what I think.”

“So, what happens if you say no?”

“That’s the fun part,” I reply. “Apparently, according to my sister, my rent and trust fund are completely reliant on spending time with her and not fucking her about. They’ve really dug me into a corner here now, Cliff. It’s like Dad and Sandy want me to hate them like they’re actually pursuing my hatred. I’m thinking they get boners off my dislike of them.”

“Yeah, that reallysucks for you, dude,” Cliff says. “What are you going to do about it?”

I rub my forehead. “I don’t know yet. Probably pretend to play along and still go and do my own shit when she isn’t looking. There’s no way she can watch me twenty-four-fucking-seven. I need my booze, man, and pussy.”

“You know what I think?”

“What?”

“Well, it isn’t my place to say anything.”

I sigh. “You’re my cousin, Cliff. You’re, like, the only person on earth I can trust, just tell me what you think.”

“Well,” Cliff paused. “I reckon it will be a good idea to just stick with the bitch and whatever she wants you to do for a few months just to get the money and recognition from your Dad. Then, when this is all over, send her packing back to Queens or wherever she’s from and go back to your normal life. Play the long game, Cove. Pretend you’re their lap dog and do what this stupid American girl says and bide your time. You’ll be back to fucking girls and getting high soon enough, just ride out the storm, man.”

I tut at how even Cliff is going along with Dad and Sandy’s bullshit, but I hold my tongue. “Thanks for your advice, Cliff.”

“No problem.”

“Have a good time in London.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll drink and fuck your portions as well as mine for the next six months. You go abstinent over there and I’ll go crazy for you over here.”

“Fuck off, you dick.”

I hang up, despondent.

Yeah, finding out Cliff’s on Dad’s side is painful.

Ugh. Fuck me.

Can this day get any worse?

Meeting this American chick my sister brought over is bad enough. I saw the look in her eyes when she met me, and the pity she looks at me with. Yeah, I was naked when I met her this morning, but so what? From the moment I saw her I could tell she looks down at me. That’s so rude. So disrespectful.

What a little geek. How dare some chick from Queens look down on me.

I saw straight through her the minute I noticed her standing in the middle of Sandy’s kitchen. She’s plain-looking. Brown eyes. Brown hair. Pale skin. So bland. Not even fuckable. I wouldn’t even look twice at her in a nightclub.

And maybe that’s why my sister brought her over, she knows there is no chance I will touch this geeky plain American girl even with a ten-foot-long jousting stick. My sister wants to tease me. Mock me.

Oh, and she’s succeeding.

I immediately saw how my sister and my dad got to the American girl with their drivel. I bet dad lured her in with money. How sad.

She’ll see soon enough that I’m a lost cause and that I don’t deserve anyone’s help, least of all hers. I’ve been nothing but a hopeless case since the accident and no one should feel the need to take care of me. Why can’t they see I’m perfectly happy with what I’m doing now? I lost everything that day at the Oceania Surfing Competition. Everything.

Can’t they just forget about reforming me and just let me live the way I want to?

If I want to end up each day drunk and stoned out of my mind with some random girl then that’s what I should be allowed to do, I don’t want or need some American girl to be my cop.

Sandy thinks way too much of me and it’s too much to deal with. It’s too much pressure to live up to. I’m not who I was a year ago. I’m not some world-class surfer on the cusp of glory, I’m just a world-class loser on the cusp of falling over drunk and high.

I don’t deserve their help.