Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Or he could mean everything.
8
BEN
All my life I have considered myself to be fearless. On the very first vacation I took with the Jameses, Quinn taught me how to surf. I was a mess. I could barely sit on the board, let alone stand without falling off. I kept trying, and everyone kept teaching. Liam, Harrison, Elle, and Eden. It was a humbling experience learning from someone who was a little girl at the time, but it was her lesson . . . well more her board that allowed me to stand and ride a wave. The trick was the smaller board. Something I could easily navigate. Sure, I continued to fall but I persevered and learned how to surf like everyone else in my family.
Who were my family.
I hate thinking about the Jameses, the Westburys, and the Davises in the past tense, but the truth of the matter is they’re not going to go out of their way to invite me to family functions or outings. Especially once Elle moves on, which I know she’ll do. I expect her to. Once she does, I’ll be an afterthought, despite Quinn telling me otherwise.
The waves of the Pacific Ocean roll onto the shore. It’s early in the morning and surfers wait for the perfect wave to ride back onto shore. My surfboard is next to me, with my ankle strap secured tightly. I decided to forgo my wetsuit this morning because what do I need it for? I’ve convinced myself that I’m dying because I have cancer.
I have fucking cancer.
And in all places . . . my manhood.
I no longer feel fearless.
Someone yells my name. It’s my neighbor. He’s a young kid and he designed one of the most popular video games and made a boatload of money. I only see him in the mornings though, because he’s always holed up in his house, working on the software. Quinn and I play his game every now and again, but it’s not really our thing.
Gill sits down next to me. He’s the silent type and has admitted to me on numerous occasions he doesn’t have a lot of friends. I get it. It’s hard to find trustworthy people to keep in your inner circle.
“How’s the gaming world?” I finally ask to break the silence.
“Competitive. I think I have to sue someone for copying my idea.”
“Dude, that sucks.”
“Yeah,” he sighs. “Wanna ride?” he motions toward the surf.
“Nah, I think I’m a looker today. Not feeling it.”
“I hear ya.”
We’re silent again, just the two of us watching the others surf. Some of the people out there really make it look so easy. I’m a novice at best.
“Hey, whatever happened to that surfer chick you and Elle hang out with?”
“Eden?”
“Yeah, her. What’s she up to these days?”
I shrug. “Honestly, I’m not sure. Elle and I broke up.”
“No shit?”
I nod, unable to answer due to a knot forming in my throat.
“Wow, I thought you two were in it for the long haul.”
Same, but I realize I knew better. Deep down, I think Elle needs someone on her level, in her circle, and not the high school crush she realized she couldn’t live without after I left.
“Damn, man. I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. Life is definitely an adjustment without her around.” I don’t know what else to say. Do I tell Gill I have cancer? That I might not be around for a bit or I might end up moving because there’s no way I can afford this house by myself, and Elle isn’t going to let me freeload off of her?
“If you need to talk, come on over.”
“Thanks, Gill. I appreciate it.”
“My sister is always telling her friends there are a lot of fish out there.” He points to the ocean. “I don’t get it because who wants a fish? I thought we were all supposed to be frogs or some shit. Anyway, I’m sorry about you and Elle.” He stands and shakes my hand. “Let’s hang this week.”
“For sure. Be safe out there.”
“You too, man.” Gill is on his board in a matter of seconds and paddling out into the surf. I wish I could do it—be brave. Be the person Elle pictures me as, but I’m not.
I’m weak.
I’m sick.
I’m alone.
I know I’m at a crossroads. I can get up, wipe the sand off my ass, and go deal with what I can deal with, or I can wallow in self-pity. I broke up with Elle and I did so for a reason. I need to accept it. She’s reached out and it’s about time I return one of her many messages. Sighing heavily, I finally stand, grab my board and head back to the house. I’ll text Elle today and ask for a meeting. The thought makes me chuckle and shake my head. I need to schedule a meeting with my ex because of how busy she is. So, probably sometime in a month or so, she’ll squeeze me in, and we’ll figure out what to do with the house.