Tuesday, October 6th
Forrest POV

I wave at my mom as she leaves the parking lot, sand crunching under the car tires. I finally let myself grimace as I turn away, rolling my shoulders to readjust the weight distribution of the backpack slung over my shoulders and the seven-foot surfboard under my arm.

A gentle wind rolls over Ocean Beach, but it feels like a storming gust as it catches the lightweight carbon fiber board, threatening to tear it out of my grip. Clenching my jaw, I awkwardly shuffle the board around until I'm confident I won't be wind surfing down this five-mile stretch of sand.

I wish I could damn Rose for the power and influence she holds over me, but there's not a cell in my body that could even think about wishing her ill-will.

When she looked up at me yesterday under those long, red eyelashes, amber eyes filled with plea, I couldn't say no. If it were anyone else, it would've been easy to walk away, considering I haven't touched this surfboard in over three years.

There was definitely some dread pumping through my veins as I unearthed the board in the garage last night. Considering the last time I surfed I walked away with a face full of blood, I'm not exactly in a rush to relive that experience.

Mom was genuinely shocked when I shuffled into the kitchen, hands stuffed in my pockets, awkwardly asking if she'd be able to drop me off at the beach after school.

Surfing? You haven't surfed since sixth grade. Trust me, I know.

With who? I didn't realize your baseball buddies did that. They don't. I made new friends.

You have friends?! God damn it, mom. Just let me show off to my crush in peace.

Okay, I didn't say that last part, but I was definitely embarrassed that she didn't believe me when I said I made more friends.

All Rose could talk about this morning at science was the plan for later. She gave me very specific instructions on where to meet, what to wear, how much sunscreen to apply.

I cast my free hand over my eyes and scan the sand for the meeting spot she was describing.

The tourists have gone home for the summer and they won't be back until Christmas, so the beach is dotted with natives. There's a few people hanging out on the sand, some jogging alongside the crashing surf, and a few die-hard surfers are already catching waves out on the water.

Seagulls cry, circling the beach, disappearing over the bluffs, and reappearing to dive bomb the water. I walk further down the beach, spotting the recreational park sign. She's standing exactly where she said she would, and she waves at me.

The smile that splits my face is raw and genuine, even when the wind tries taking my surfboard again. Sand slips underneath my sandals as I approach, taking in the untamed beauty that is Rose Miller.

Her long red hair snaps in the breeze like the sails in the harbor. Her cheeks are pink with the leftover summer sun that's still blessing the San Francisco Bay, her skin smooth and boasting a bronze tan. She's wearing a black neoprene jacket and shorts, giving the effect of a leg less wetsuit.

Her physique is already flawless, but god, that rubber stretches and flows over all of the right places. It shows off her tight stomach, athletic quads. There should be statues carved in her honor and placed in every museum around the world. I'm no art geek, but I'd spend the rest of my life studying her.

"Mr. Mysterious isn't a mystery anymore." Rose smiles, her eyes crinkling. She almost looks relieved as she admits, "I'm glad you came."

"You didn't think I would, huh?" I tease and take a moment to catch my breath, trying to pretend that holding down my board and slipping over the sand on the way over here didn't tire me out.

"Like I said, you're a secret guy. I wasn't sure what to expect." Rose shrugs and turns, leading the way over to her family.

"I'm a man of my word," I reply and follow in her wake, keeping my gaze respectfully away from her ass.

Parker and Griffin are kneeling in the sand, poised over their surfboards. Griffin is using a wax comb on his board, serrating the top layer. He's wearing a full wetsuit, but the top half is unzipped and tied around his waist, showing off the hard muscles and sharp lines that gave him the strength to pummel Archer yesterday. He doesn't even glance in our direction, defiance making his mouth fall in a hard line.

Parker looks up from where he's packing his wax supplies away in a bag and smiles as he gets to his feet, his wetsuit taunt over his broad shoulders as he raises his fist. "Hey, man. Good to see you. We weren't sure if you'd make it."

"What kind of impression do I set?" I ask with a laugh and give him a fist bump. "If you guys ask me to come and I agree, I'm going to come."

"Wouldn't expect you to bother without her around," Griffin mutters under his breath, keeping his attention on the wax.

Rose rolls her eyes, and a rare look of annoyance crossing her face. A blush crawls over my cheeks. Parker keeps talking, either undeterred or he just didn't hear his cousin. "We're in for a good time. There's a clean break out there, lots of good waves. We'll be ready in a few minutes."

"Copy that," I reply and rest my board in the sand next to Rose's. Her board is beautiful, with a natural wood effect and an overhead shot of a whale shark taking up almost the entire surface. The shark is painted in vibrant blues, pinks, and oranges, with flowers and fruits helping make up the shape. I nod my head at it as I slip off my backpack. "That's really cool. Where did you get that?"

Rose beams and kneels down, pointing at Parker before giving the leg rope at the end of her board a sharp tug. "My uncle. Parker's dad works as a photographer, but he's also an incredible artist. He designed custom boards for mine and Griffin's birthday a few years ago."

I glance over at Griffins board, catching the dark blues, purples, and blacks of a stormy night at sea, a pirate ship getting torn down by Kraken tentacles. Shockingly, Parker's board is the most simple, being solid white with a black line down the middle. He catches me looking and explains, "I accidentally broke my other board out here over the summer. We gave shredding a whole new meaning."

I chuckle and return my attention to prepping my board, responding, "I guess so. Your dad is talented."

"Yeah, there's no lack of creativity in my house," Parker agrees.

Rose continues to happily chatter about her family, giving me the chance to listen and put my head down as I prepare my surfboard.

I didn't even think about combing the wax until I saw the others doing it, so I find the comb in the bottom of the backpack and take a few minutes to create grooves while saying a prayer that I won't make a fool of myself.

It takes a little longer to wrestle my dry wetsuit out of my bag and over my legs. The rubber refuses to stretch, and I grit my teeth, forcing it to fit around my knees and thighs. I work my arms through the sleeves and remind myself to breathe as I pull the zipper up, claustrophobia tapping at my chest. I forgot how damn restrictive these things are when they're dry; I feel like my shoulders and hips are going to burst the suit at the seams.

Rose watches me curiously with her knees in the sand all the while, fighting down the smile on her face. "So... When's the last time you did this...?"

"Don't start with me." I laugh, pulling the material away from my neck.

Her eyes are lit with amusement as she pushes to her feet and walks up to me. I really forget how to breathe as she grabs at the material around my arms and my back, tugging and pulling everything into place.

"You're hopeless," she says with the type of tone that suggests the opposite. I can finally inhale semi-normally when she finishes readjusting, all of the rubber falling in the right places. "I knew I should've packed my arm floaties. You know how to swim, right?"

"Of course I do. You're looking at the top of his class for ISS."

Rose giggles, pausing right in front of me to tilt her head. "Infant Survival Swim? You haven't swam since you were a baby?"

I resist the urge to kiss the crinkle lines that are growing around her eyes again. I have to cross my arms to regain my self-control, mirroring her head tilt as I reply, "No, c'mon now. My parents made me take swim lessons in elementary school once we moved here. Just in case I escaped out the back door and walked fifteen miles to the ocean, I guess."

"Wheels up," Griffin snaps suddenly and rips his board from the sand. At some point—probably while Rose distracted me with all of her prodding—he finished dressing. He breezes by, forcing me to backpedal so the front of his board won't knock me over. I don't miss the dirty look he throws at his sister, and I exhale strongly through my nose to keep my composure.

"Still mad about detention, huh?" I grumble.

Rose's smile falls off her face as she leans down to retrieve her board. "Maybe. Probably. Him and I got in a fight yesterday after school, so that doesn't help, either."

I run my tongue over my teeth, digesting her words as I grab my surfboard and walk alongside her.

I've seen that boy get aggressive, and I can't imagine being on the receiving end of that anger. No wonder they've had a taunt wire strung between them all day.

Before I get the chance to ask if she's doing okay, she changes the subject. "Okay, you moved here when you were a kid. Where are you from, then?"

I scoff and shake my head, readjusting the surfboard under my arm in hopes I'll look as professional and collected as Rose does. "You don't want to know."

"Illinois was that bad, huh?" Parker jokes as he catches up with us, his dark hair sweeping off his forehead.

"Wait! Let me guess," Rose says and hums thoughtfully, scratching her chin. "Vermont. I don't know anyone from Vermont. Wait! No. Wyoming?"

"Wyoming is cool as shit," Parker adds. "There are some wicked mountains out there."

"Yes, well, that is what Wyoming is known for," Rose responds.

"You're getting colder and colder," I taunt. "Parker was the warmest with Illinois. I'm originally from Indiana, but—"

"Indiana?!" Rose cries out. "The Bermuda Triangle of the United States? I forgot Indiana existed!"

"—But—" I continue with a loud laugh, "—we've lived in California longer. Being in the Midwest was like a fever dream."

"Wow. No wonder you didn't know how to surf," Parker says seriously, casting me a cool, amused look.

Rose elbows him. "Dude, you were the one who said not to discriminate yesterday. I'm sure Forrest knows plenty about limestone and corn and soybeans..."

"I'm literally about to jump off those cliffs over there."

"I'm sorry! I can't help it." Rose giggles and shakes her head, mumbling, "Indiana..."

I should probably be embarrassed, but I'll talk about anything if it means I get to make Rose smile and laugh like that, all of her frustration from earlier a distant memory.

Up ahead, Griffin breaks into the water, taking a few more strides before swinging onto his board like it came built with stirrups. He paddles away, cutting through the water like a knife through soft butter.

Parker follows suit, leaving us behind as he jogs to catch up with Griffin. He throws his board down and jumps on, causing water to fly in every direction. Undeterred, he gives chase.

I'm not as coordinated as Griffin, and not as confident as Parker, so I take my time stepping into the water. The cold causes me to hiss, flexing my toes uncomfortably.

I shiver for all of two seconds before my wetsuit starts to do its job, warming the thin layer of water between the rubber and my skin. Rose slips in front of me, and I don't miss the goosebumps that are raked over her bare legs.

"Aren't you cold?" I raise my voice to be heard over the crashing surf.

She waves her hand dismissively, hopping onto the back of her whale shark. "No way! In a few minutes, I'll be sweating. Are you coming?"

In response, I move my surfboard parallel to the waves. Rose lifts an eyebrow, but I'm insistent on catching up with the other two.

A wave attempts to pull the board away, and I grab it by the leash, hauling it back to me. Then, I swing my leg over with the same grace as a newborn giraffe bucking for the first time. I bump my board closer to shore on accident, curse, grab the front end, adjust my weight, and attempt to pull myself to the center.

Until another small wave lulls over, catching the fins of the board, and tipping it over.

I get a mouthful of salt water as my back hits the sand in this shallow water. Rose is laughing loudly over the sound of the wave rushing past my ears. I pop up immediately, sputtering and chuckling as I cough out the salt.

"That," I spit again, "was fucking embarrassing."

Rose is too busy laughing, slapping her bare leg repeatedly. "No, no! That was great! Forrest, I don't know how comfortable I feel bringing you out on the ocean if you don't know to not mount your board parallel to the waves. Even though that was really frickin' funny."

"Frickin'," I echo her teasingly, splashing water in her direction before scrambling to my feet.

I shake out my hair, sending droplets flying. I miss Rose staring as I bring the board further out, trying again. I manage to pull myself on, only because she leans over and holds the board still for me, taking a moment to help latch the leash around my ankle.

She winks at me as she sits up. "Don't worry, I usually start cursing once I'm knocked flat on my back."

With that being clarified, she leans down and takes off, paddling away.

I stare at her, delicious heat crawling over my skin. There's no telling how she meant that, but knowing Rose, it was probably innocent. Unfortunately my body doesn't realize that, and it just doesn't care. I'm grateful to lean over my board, letting the cold water splash some sense into me.

Despite the rigorous baseball training I've been put through over the last few weeks, my back is burning by the time Rose and I reach Parker and Griffin.

Baseball... The thought strikes a chord. Did I have practice tonight? No, the coaches are gone. Or something like that.

The thought evaporates as quickly as it perspired when Rose sits up, her silhouette illuminated by the sun that's starting to reach toward the horizon. Her hair is on fire, and the grin on her face matches its' heat with the pure intensity. She holds both of her hands over her heart, and I watch her chest fill with air, appreciation, joy. Her eyelashes flutter, eyes glassy.

Parker watches her, a similar smile on his face. I don't know what it is about this family and the ocean, but it's bringing out emotions I've never seen on their faces before. He leans over, pushing her shoulder. "You're not going to cry, are you?"

"Roselyn, for the love of God. Pull it together," Griffin snipes, but even his tone is lacking venom.

She inhales shakily, waving her hands in front of her eyes. "I'm trying! I'm just so grateful to be out here with you all. I'm having so much fun."

"You'd somehow make a mental institution fun—hold up, there's a set," Griffin remarks before leaning down and taking off. I squint at the caps rolling closer. I don't know what he sees, but it's hard to believe those waves are about to peel.

"He's got a good eye," Rose says, nearly making me jump. I swear she's reading my mind.

Sure enough, Griffin approaches a rapidly-building wave. He paddles harder, matching its speed until the wave begins to lift the back of his board. His muscles ripple as he places his hands on the board and pushes up hard, swiftly getting to his feet.

He keeps his knees soft, leaning into the wave, using his balance to cut his board up and down the wave. I feel like I'm watching a movie, the lip of the wave approaching on him. Finally, he literally jumps ship, piercing the water in a perfect dive. The wave passes over his body before he resurfaces, mounting his board with ease.

Parker and Rose burst out in applause, and I join them. For the first time, I notice a real smile pulling at Griffins mouth. This sprinkle of happiness turns him into a different person.

Until he opens his mouth and says, "Suck my dick, peasants."

Parker rears back like he got backhanded, and Rose splashes water at her brother. "Not funny, Griff. I give that dismount a solid ten out of ten."

"I'm thinking an eight." Parker tilts his head. "Your entry was messy."

"The girl I fucked last night definitely didn't say that—"

"Griffin!" Rose gasps, leaning over to smack him as he joins our lineup, and he smacks her back. They cat fight for a moment. "That's so inappropriate! Besides, you don't like anyone enough to sleep with them."

Parker shakes his finger. "Correction. He doesn't like anyone."

I rub my neck and decide to stay on the wall of this conversation. This doesn't seem like a good time to ask questions.

Rose returns her attention to the ocean and suddenly gasps. "Wave! Race you to it, Parker!"

She pushes off, laughing as Parker follows her letting out a litany of curses. He gives her a run for money, and almost drops in on her wave until she cuts him off. Her laugh rings over the water until the rushing water cuts her off.

Parker sits up, holding his hands over his eyes. We all watch Rose shred the wave, her board splitting it clean in half. A few strands of hair stick to her face, but the rest flows behind her.

She's the picture of strength and beauty, and I'm mesmerized, even when she tumbles into the water and pops up with her hair tangled in every direction.

I don't realize I'm smiling like a fool until Parker floats up alongside me and taps his fingers on my board. I spook, my smile slipping and landing on his face.

"Don't let him catch you watching her like that," Parker says quietly, tilting his head in Griffins direction.

Griffin is sitting a few yards away, poised for action in the middle of his surfboard. At first glance, he could be mistaken for watching the water, waiting for another wave. Unfortunately and fortunately, I've been around this group enough to start deciphering his facial expressions. He's completely ignoring me. On purpose.

"I don't think he's paying attention," I mutter.

Parker snorts, turning his face away. "You'll learn this eventually: if Griffin is purposely not watching or butting in, he's definitely paying attention. He uses reverse psychology."

"Sometimes I can't believe these two are related," I say, keeping my voice low. Roses laughter echoes again as she swims over, and I melt into the sound.

Parker smirks knowingly and nods along. "I know, I've thought about that my entire life. It makes for a good time."

We stop our conversation as she approaches, breaking into applause instead. She pauses her paddling to bow.

"You should quit your community garden bullshit and look into professional surfing," Griffin says, peppering the compliment into his words.

"What? No way!" Rose exclaims and lets the waves finish carrying her over, picking a knot out of her hair. "I'm under two months from opening. I like being out here, but not that much."

"Gardening?" I question, looking between the siblings. "You have a community garden?"

Griffin gasps, holding a hand over his heart and leaning over. "What?! You didn't know?"

Parker flicks water at Griffin, making him back off. Rose shakes her head. "Yeah, over at Hunters Point."

I beat the grimace off my face, doing my best to keep a look of curiosity instead. Hunters Point is an undeveloped and undervalued neighborhood compared to the rest of the city. That's where all of the public housing developments are, and those without any housing have been calling the streets their own.

There's no judgement. I think every community deserves a safe space; somewhere to gather and be one. The matter of the fact is, it's not the safest neighborhood, either. Especially not for a young girl to be running around alone.

Rose keeps talking, passion making her words fall out faster. She starts waving her hands as she explains, "When I stopped competing in track, I had the opportunity to learn about what's impacting our city and ways to make a difference. I've been working with Mrs. Enger all summer."

She pauses and takes a moment to chew on her lip thoughtfully. "I had to create surveys to pass out in public help communities across the city, and this location had the most interest. Once I found a plot, I got permission and permits from the city. The architect finally got back to me yesterday, so soon we'll be demolishing the site. We need to build an actual fence, planters, boxes. There will be picnic tables and water stations." Her eyes fog over, lost in the dream. "It needs to be done by the first of December. I want families to have access to fresh produce for Christmas, as long as it pulls together."

She blinks herself out of it and looks at me, smiling sheepishly. "That's my dream. It'll be cool to put a project like that on my resume, but I really, really want to help people. You know?"

And this right here is the most beautiful thing about Rose. She radiates from the inside out. All I can say is, "Well, you have my vote for president."

Griffin lets out one short bark of laughter. "If Rose became president, she would make everyone grow their own food, sew their own clothes, and revert back to trading and exchanging like it's the 1600s."

"She's got my vote. Maybe someone could sew me pants that actually fit," Parker remarks.

Griffin eyes him. "Bitch, don't talk like you're some big macho man. Half of the girls in our grade are still taller than you."

Parker deflates. "Not true."

"Um, it's definitely—there's a swell."

Mine and Parker's necks snap over to the horizon. This time, I see it: a tiny white cap building over the water.

Parker and I look at each other, then simultaneously burst into action. I can't hear anything but my blood rushing and water splashing around my ears. The spray from our paddling soaks me, stings my eyes. Parker surges forward, using his years of experience to squeeze me off coarse.

I'm filled with longing and an insatiable need to impress Rose. I'm supposed to be the athletic powerhouse, the knight in shining armor. Parker's been playing football his entire life. So what? I've been on a baseball field my entire life. I can be competitive.

I use my final bit of resolve to push past him, cutting off his final string of hope before flying alongside the wave. I'm pretty sure Parker is giving me the middle finger in my peripheral vision, but he's also laughing so I don't take him seriously.

Suddenly, I realize I don't know how I got in this situation. What was I thinking? This wave seems awfully big, creating behind my back. I haven't surfed in years. I don't know what I'm doing.

I push my hands underneath me, my wrists shaking. I don't know what I'm doing.

One foot plants near my hands, the other stays steady behind me, digging into the wax. I don't know what I'm doing.

My knees tremble as I push myself up, stealing Griffins coordination and Parker's confidence and Rose's determination. I don't know what I'm doing.

I'm surfing. I'm laughing.

Unfortunately, I really don't know what I'm doing.

The board bucks underneath my feet. My knees are locked and resist the absorption. Instead, a shock runs up my legs and spine, throwing me off balance. I go head first, tumbling and rolling into the vast ocean.

Bubbles roll out of my nose, and the wave crashes overhead. The sound is eerily quiet, lost among the millions of miles that make up this entire body of water. I refuse to look down. If I think about all of the space that is underneath my feet, I might die.

And now I'm thinking about it.

The saltwater stings my eyes and I squeeze them shut, accepting my fate. That's until my wonderful, lightweight carbon fiber surfboard rockets to the surface of the water, defying all laws of gravity, and pulling me up with it.

My survival instincts kick in, and I use the months spent in swimming lessons as a kid to kick to the surface. I gasp for air as I resurface, gulping down glorious oxygen. I scramble for my board, hauling myself up fast and effortless.

I take a moment to breathe before looking up, recalibrating my surroundings. The group isn't as far as I thought, and Rose is cheering like I won the World Series. Griffin looks unimpressed, and Parker is slow clapping.

"Wow," Parker says, clapping between each word as I return to them. "You stole that gorgeous, perfect wave to fall off three seconds later."

"You lasted three whole seconds!" Rose whoops, dancing in place. Parker smacks her arm away when she starts to do the sprinkler. "That was amazing! Your form was great! If you keep your knees soft next time, you'll last a lot longer."

Griffin nods diplomatically. "That's what she said. Literally. Twice. Must be a new record or something. My girl definitely didn't say that last night when I had her bent—"

"Ew! Just shut up!" Rose lifts her leg and kicks at Griffins board, making it spin away slowly. "Let us be happy!"

"I'm happy, Rose. It's okay," I say, lowering my hands down in an attempt to bring the energy back to square one, maybe two. She grins at me, giving two big thumbs up.

I wish I could put into words how truly and deeply happy I actually am, for the first time in forever. Especially when I bump my board next to Rose's and she leans over, wrapping her arm around me in a half hug.

I'm nearly vibrating with joy, even when Parker paddles away to finally catch his wave and Griffin gives me a dark, withering look. I'm oblivious, caught up in the radiance that's emitting from Rose.

So oblivious, that I'm blissfully unaware of the baseball meeting that's going to start any minute.