The Uneventful Life of Harvey Mackler

c h a p t e r | n i n e t e e n

Hayden nods. "He has a shift this morning but he's hoping to be here in an hour."

"Thought so," I reply. "Er, Hayd. You and Gia wait here, or go find somewhere for us to sit. I'll go take Finn to get registered."

I loosely link upper arms with Finn before I get a chance to overthink my actions, tugging him in the direction of the registration booth. Our sudden proximity and the aggressive force with which I drag him is enough to pull him out of his anxiety induced daze.

The crowded station is full of the suffocating buzz of competitors and excitable spectators, and as we near, a long-repressed sense of dread begins to fill me — but it's easy to ignore with Finn's eyes boring holes in the side of my head.

I pull my arm away, eyes fixed on the registration booth ahead as we continue at an unhurried pace towards it.

"What heat are you in?" I ask him in a levelled tone.

"Today? The seventh, I think," Finn says. "I was going to double-check at the register."

"Seventh. So towards the middle..." I muse. "That doesn't sound so bad."

"I guess."

From what I know, around 150 people have entered the surfing competition this year. Half of them would be competing today, and the other half later on this week. The contestants have been split into groups, or 'heats' of five with the best two from each heat advancing to the semifinals in two weeks.

"Do you remember what I said about choosing waves?"

"Avoid hesitating, but don't just take the first one without thinking. Choose one I think I'll be comfortable surfing on and able to ride the full length of if possible."

"Right, you'll be scored on your commitment to the wave and how difficult it is to surf," I reply. "After that you can focus on executing your manoeuvres. Remember to keep it varied, but relaxed so the judges know you're confident on the board."

"Got it."

I give in to the urge to look at Finn again. He still looks tense.

"Most importantly," I say in a softer tone, "have fun. Whatever happens, it's not the end of the world. So relax, don't panic too much."

The ghost of a smile plays on Finn's lips. He locks gazes with me.

"I know. Got my slap of reality earlier this morning," he says. With a playful look in his eyes, he leans in to whisper, "Wouldn't want all these people thinking my coach abuses me."

My eyes go round. My mouth falls agape as I wait for my brain to deliver a suitable comeback, but all that comes out is a series of indignant scoffs and other indecipherable high pitched noises that cause Finn to break out in a grin.

I fold my arms over my chest and shoot Finn a glare before walking off, quickening my pace so I reach the registration booth before him.

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"AND DOWN GOES JOHNSON, not quite managing to stay in the barrel and going down on a backdoor wave."