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

Chapter 22: Better Things To Do

"I've heard your name quite a bit here lately," Joe says.

He smiles at Vin, and if it wasn't for the fact that my face is no longer flushed from Vin's earlier remark, I'd glance up at him too. Luckily Joe turns the conversation to the competition and how Shark would be so proud of Topher competing today. He stays with the competitors, in the middle of the action, and we return to the tailgate with A.J. just before Topher's heat begins.

Miles grabs Topher on his way toward the shoreline and says something directly into his ear, making sure no one else hears him. Topher nods and laughs, signals the shaka to the other Hooligans, and with the blast of the air horn, he dashes into the water.

*****  

Two minutes into the heat, Topher is sitting pretty in the ocean, but he's yet to take a wave. The guy competing against him took the first wave that rolled in and wiped out shortly after. He's paddling back out now. I pray that Topher catches one before this guy has a chance to redeem himself.

Topher flattens himself onto his board and paddles farther out. Vin grips the edges of the tailgate with a death hold, and I almost want to check his pulse to make sure he's still breathing.

"This is it!" Miles yells out. He hasn't sat down since the heat began.

Kale jumps up to his feet, with Jace and Theo inches behind him. "Paddle harder, Brooks! Paddle hard!" he screams out, although Topher can't hear him.

"Get up! Get up! Get the fuck up, Topher!" Miles yells. He must've seen the competition official in his peripherals because he throws his arms out in apology. "Sorry dude!"

But it makes Vin crack a smile and that earns Miles a few more points in my book. All eyes are back on Topher, who has popped up and is riding the wave flawlessly into shore. He paddles back out for the next wave, but Kale announces ever-so-loudly that he knows Topher's moving on to the next round with that wave, especially when his competitor sucks.

An hour of California sunshine later, Vin turns his back on the ocean because he can't bring himself to watch the final heat. We've abandoned the tailgate to stand with the Hooligans. I soak up every bit of warmth from this moment because I don't know what next summer holds, and I don't know if all of us will ever be together in a single moment again. I know Linzi won't be back here with me, attached to Alston's hip, and I don't know where the world will take Miles if he wins the sponsorship. Kale could go back to Hawaii. A.J. could get thrown in county for something dumb. Or the ocean could take someone away.

I shake that last thought out of my mind as Topher paddles out. The waves crash around him and over him, sloshing him back and forth, but he keeps going, fighting harder each time to reach the big set that's rolling in.

"He's going to take it," Jace says, craning his neck to see that far out.

"It's fucking beautiful," Miles says in an almost whisper.

He's right. Everything about that wave is beautiful, and I'm not even looking at it from a surfer's viewpoint. It's a glaze of all shades of blue, and it feels so right for Topher to be the one about to ride it. The whitecaps stretch out behind him, hovering and waiting to make sure he's safely onboard. The sun glints off the water creating a glow of ocean and sky with Topher Brooks right in the center of it all. There's nothing amateur about the way he rides.

The waiting period for the judges to tally the scores feels like hours rather than minutes. Topher paces the sand in this stressed out kind of frenzy, a habit he's inherited from his brother. Vin hasn't said a word either, but I know he's hoping that Topher has the highest numbers – just because it means that much to Topher.

I latch onto A.J.'s arm to brace myself once the announcer asks everyone to gather around for scores. Aside from the competitors and their supporters, the amateur section is pretty dead. Even this emptiness makes me happy, just seeing who all really cares about their amateur surfers. Of course there's one Hooligan who didn't bother to show. But as far as I'm concerned, he's not one of them – and Kale is.

As third best ride and then second best is announced, my heart races and I hear it pounding even with the roaring ocean behind me. A.J. squeezes my hand, and I hold my breath.

"And with a score of 8.5, today's best ride – and winner of the amateur division title – is Topher Brooks!"

A.J. wraps me up in an anaconda-grip kind of hug, and although I'd give anything to see the look on Vin's face upon hearing Topher's name, I don't fight my best friend. Instead, I squeeze him back, breathe in the smell of cigarette smoke from his shirt, and savor every single second of this moment.

Miles screams out, "Hell yes!" too many times to count, and Reed announces, "Celebration at my place!" I glance around to see where Vin is, and I spot him easily. He's wrapped up in a moment with the kid who's drinking Ocean Blast Energy like it's a gift from Kanaloa. I wish Shark was here to capture it.