Chasing Forever Down (Great White Surf Saga, #1) [Wattpad Featured Story] | ✔

Chapter 9: A.J. Gonzalez

My guts transform into a pack of crazed bats flapping around and beating my ribcage in attempts to break free. I could seriously throw up on this waxy white floor. This is A.J. – freshly out of jail, tattooed, nicotine-addicted A.J.

It takes a good chunk of my strength and self-worth to force a smile, especially after seeing that glazed-over, mangy dog look in A.J.'s eyes. I'm just another little lamb out on the beach for his crazy coyote instincts to rip apart and splatter over the sand. And I'm the stupid little lamb who is going to fight back.

We follow Reed outside and around the building to a giant storage unit that I can't believe I haven't noticed before. The colors of the jet skis pop out like those of the paper stars sitting on the counter back inside. Reed explains that most of the bigger boats are in a storage unit down near the dock for easier loading. I think I'm the only one listening to him. Alston and A.J. are eyeing today's transportation while Linzi hangs onto Alston's arm and his every word.

"This one!" A.J. calls out.

He climbs on top of a yellow jet ski, that sporty yellow color that looks super fast flying down the highway even at speed limit. He stands over the jet ski, straddling it and jerking back and forth with the handlebars, like a mechanical bull is underneath him rather than a jet ski. His attitude is better suited for a bull ride.

Alston debates back and forth between a blue jet ski and a red one, but the red wins out, something about it being the color of love and passion. Linzi swoons like a lovesick idiot.

"Load us up, Strick," A.J. shouts out. He waves an invisible lasso in the air with his free hand while still rocking back and forth on the jet ski.

I follow the Alston-Linzi love fest back inside the boating store in search of lifejackets. Linzi throws her T-shirt aside and pulls her jacket over her head to try it on for size. God forbid it hide too much of her bikini. I stare at the Great White photo above the register. Unlike photographer Jake McAllister, I won't be facing sharks in the ocean. I'll be facing a greater risk to my life – bodyguard number three, the party boy – A.J.

The thought of "party boy" takes me back to the stolen photo. If the beer-drinking blonde isn't A.J., then who is he? The only option left is the jerkoff mechanic. And according to Enchanted Emily, even Colby isn't worth that kind of torment. Emily doesn't realize that I'm on a forever-chasing mission, though. It changes everything. I mentally say goodbye to Jake McAllister's shark photo in case I never see it again and walk outside. Reed is leaning over A.J.'s shoulder, most likely giving him instructions on how to send me back to North Carolina.

A.J. runs over to me and throws an arm around my shoulder, leaving Reed to take the yellow jet ski to the water for us.

"This is gonna be the most badass day of your life," A.J. informs me. I smell his cigarette lingering on each word. "Jumping waves on a jet ski is one of the best adrenaline rushes ever. If you hang on pretty tight, you shouldn't wipe out."

It doesn't take a surf genius to know what wiping out is.

"You're such a show off," Reed hollers out, looking back at us. "You just picked yellow so you could be seen. No one drives a yellow vehicle unless they want to be noticed."

"Damn it, Strick," A.J. says, unwrapping his arm from me and dropping the butt of his cigarette onto the shoreline. "You know damn well that the fastest cars are the bright ones. You're the speed junkie, not me."

A.J. pushes Reed away with his shoulder and climbs aboard. I fiddle around with the buckles on the lifejacket as Reed turns into a dot moving back up through the sand toward the store. A.J. waves me over to him. His sunglasses hide his eyes again, which eases my nerves just a bit. I can pretend he's not stoned or sleep deprived or whatever the hell he is.