Washed Up

Chapter 1

Cool, gritty water swept over Maverik Collins toes. The taste of salt was on her tongue, and the sound of ocean waves lapping against the sand sent her in a lull where she sat.

She hugged her knees closer to her chest, watching the sun set over the Pacific Ocean. The star lit the surface of the water a fiery orange; its light dancing over the choppy sea like flames. Her frizzy brown hair was held back by a plastic clip, a few strands escaping and tickling her neck. Next to her, her surfboard sat, untouched. It had been unused to the point that she hadn't bothered waxing it in the three years that she had owned it. It reflected the light of the sun, leering at her. She fixed her amber eyes on the board and huffed.

"Don't look at me like that. You know I can't surf." It seemed the expensive board glared, in which she responded: "I'll throw you out in the waves and see if you make it back on your own, you piece of garbage."

She immediately felt bad. Her father had given her this board when she was fifteen, but he hadn't been around long enough to watch her use it. And she hadn't taken it into the waves. Not once. The closest thing to ocean water that board had seen was the spray of droplets from dancing waves along the sand bar.

Maverik watched as a small three foot wave broke over the surface. Beyond it by several yards, another swell grew; tipping off at about five feet and closing out. An unsurfable wave. It broke along the entire length, leaving no barrel to carve through. Maverik could spot good waves from bad ones, at a distance. Yet she never gave herself the chance to experience them on a physical level. Her heart yearned to pound along with the rhythm crashing water, to feel her muscles ache as she strained to balance herself on the board, to feel the board beneath her feet skim the surface of the ocean. She couldn't. It terrified her to her bones to think about going out into the water.

Her phone vibrated against her leg, drawing her gaze away from the silvery-orange water. She sighed, bracing herself for the phone conversation that was about to take place. Her toes curled into the cool, wet sand as she answered. "Hi, Mom."

"Maverik, you're done? I expected you wouldn't answer for another hour or so."

Maverik sighed. "The waves died down a little bit ago. I'm on my way home now."

She stood up, reaching for her board and tucking it beneath her arm, making her way up the beach. The sand became hot, making her wince as her mother continued to speak. "How did it go?"

"Fine. I fell off a lot. But my balance is getting better. The waves around the beach break are getting easier to surf." she lied. Maverik hadn't been able to bring herself to tell her mother she hadn't surfed at all. Not in the three years since she stopped. Lying always gave her a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Well, that sounds like improvement! Listen, while I've got you on the phone, I want to talk to you about something."

Maverik faltered in her stride, sidestepping a pile of dried kelp. "What?"

"There was an ad for the Anu Wai surfing team. They're looking for members! This is the perfect opportunity for you, Mav!"

Maverik's heart dipped into her stomach. Her mouth became dry. "Oh, really? But they're a super talented group of people; they'd never want me."

"Mav, I think after surfing every day for the past three years, you've got something to offer. Tryouts are in a month. I've signed you up anyways-" her mother cut out for a moment, cursing when it sounded like she dropped something on the other end of the line. "Your dad would really want you to at least try." she said, voice becoming soft.

"But Mom-"

"Oh, I've got to go. I'm burning the roast in the oven. I'll see you soon." The line went dead.