20. Poppy Wells

20

Poppy Wells

I lost my surfboard.

My mom was going to kill me. What the fuck would I even say to her? I couldn’t go home, not until I could conjure up some excuse that wouldn’t end up with her hurting herself or me.

It was easier if she hurt me. I could take it. I could deal with it.

I shouldn’t have to deal with it.

I was strong enough to deal with it.

Jasper obviously saw I was nervous as fuck because he ended up offering that the surf school had some discounted boards that he could show to me after our surf lessons tomorrow. I barely managed to smile, my lips trembling. I had to bite down on them to make them stop. My fingers were tangled by my abdomen, picking and rubbing at the skin to ease the tremors.

Five things, Poppy. Start with five and breathe.

Jasper’s eyes dropped down to my hands, but before he could say anything about my not-so-healthy coping mechanisms, I was already walking across the beach, trying to slip my arms out of my wetsuit. When he caught up to me, Jasper placed his hand on my shoulder softly and looked down at me like he was searching for an answer I was hesitant to give.

Let me, his eyes seemed to say.

I barely remember nodding, the closeness making my head spin.

Tentatively, he unzipped the back of my wetsuit. The press of the wet fabric against my back made me arch slightly. A low groan slipped from his lips as he followed the zip all the way down my back, and ever so slowly, his hands reached up to my shoulder, tugging at the sleeve. He pulled it down as I moved my arm backwards out of it. The entire time, his eyes did not leave mine. The warmth of his breath kissed the bareness of my neck as he lent in closer, slipping the other sleeve down my arm.

His touch seemed to ignite a fire inside of me, electric currents firing through my blood. I felt warm and safe and secure in his touch—he was everything that my own home was not, and the thought alone was enough to terrify me. I bit down on my lip as he finished, making no move to leave. Instead, I stayed still, waiting to see what he would do.

Jasper’s fingers tentatively brushed up my back as his touch chased away any nerves that haunted my thoughts. They rested over a spot on my neck, brushing over the soft skin which was laced with droplets of salt water. His fingers ran along the scar that lay there at the edge of my neck and down my shoulder blade.

My own fingers fell over his and I jerked backwards out of his touch. I couldn’t look at him . That scar —I couldn’t. My chest felt like someone had dropped a boulder on it but when he stepped forward and pressed his palm flat across it, I felt my breaths even out. My thundering heartbeat threaded through his fingers, but he kept his palm there, his eyes never leaving mine.

Maybe I was wrong, had been wrong all these years. Maybe Jasper did understand me, better than I did myself. Then anyone did. Maybe he and I were just one of the same, monsters of the waves, broken children of the ocean. My body responded to him, his touch like magic.

“I don’t need you to fix me,” I blurted out.

His eyes softened slightly. “I wasn’t trying to fix you, Poppy.”

Biting down on my lip, I nodded. “Right…okay.”

“ Fuck ,” he cursed, massaging his temple. “I don’t…” His eyes latched onto mine, unwavering and unbreakable. “You don’t need fixing, Poppy.”

Except, I knew I did.

But it was nice, for once, to have someone else who believed otherwise.

“You really believe that?” I asked. Despite the strength in my heart, all my words came out weak and quiet. Sometimes I thought it would be better if I just wasn’t here at all.

“ Wellsy ,” he rasped, a blazing clarity in his gaze. “You’re incredible.”

“I don’t feel incredible,” I breathed a laugh, diverting my eyes from the intensity of his own. “I don’t feel anything half the time. It’s like I have all the pieces to put myself back together again, but they. Just. Won’t. Fit .”

Jasper’s fingers, delicate and soft, gently gripped my chin, tilting it upwards to meet his gaze. There was no pity, no sadness, just…understanding. My heart skipped a beat.

“You’ve grown up, Poppy.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” I retorted defensively.

“You’re trying to put together pieces that won’t fit, right? But what if they don’t fit because you’re trying to rebuild the person you used to be, instead of the person you are now? Maybe… maybe, you just need to find some new pieces, Wellsy. Ones that fit perfectly. Ones that don’t have to be forced back together again.”

I stood there in shock. He …Jasper had a point. Maybe I was too afraid of letting my old, unhealthy self go. Maybe I was trying to rebuild something that just couldn’t be built again.

“You and I, Wellsy, we’re gonna make it out of this town someday. We’ll go to Europe, surf the best waves, and never have to worry about anything else ever again.”

“We will?”

Could we really make it out of here? Together ?

His golden-brown eyes blazed with heat. “I promise.”

When Jasper finally stepped backwards, all the warmth drained from my body, leaving behind a darkened cave like a blown-out candle. Words left his lips, left my own lips as well, but I couldn’t remember any of them. All I could remember was the softness of his eyes as he reached out his hand and the sudden burst of courage inside mine that made me take it.

The walk up to the surf school was more comforting than anything. Jasper talked about all of his favorites things. I learned how he preferred Marvel to Star Wars, despite Jakson’s persistent efforts to turn him to the dark side. How Spiderman had been his favorite character since he was a little kid. That he didn’t have a favorite color because one of Lia’s siblings told him it was unfair to all the other colors to pick favorites.

That one made me laugh.

I also learned that he hated silence. Where I found comfort in the quiet, it seemed that Jasper Ridge had a pathological need to fill it. To feel wanted. To feel listened to. I guessed that was why the entire walk felt so right because I let him talk and he let me listen.

He talked about Jakson and Lia, about music and films and life . It made me realize that even though I’d spent my whole life competing against him, I knew practically nothing about him. All those years, all those competitions…I was so focused on winning that I didn’t see anything else. Couldn’t see anything else. God, I didn’t even recognize Lia when she bought my coffee for me. I’d spent so many years wrapped up inside my own head that I forgot there was a world out there waiting for me.

As I turned to look at the row of flowering trees lining the street, I paused, wondering how the sand beneath my feet had faded to concrete without me even realizing. But despite that, my lips tugged upwards into a soft smile as I glanced at them. The colors felt warm and comforting, tucked away inside my chest.

Hesitantly, I lifted my fingers up to a single branch. As my fingers grazed the outline of the wood, I drew in a sharp breath. The coarse wood felt rough underneath my skin. I pulled the branch towards my face, lowering it as I took in a fresh breath of air. The scent of summer and undying love coursed through my mind. A longing of courage.

When I drew back, I felt Jasper’s eyes on me before I saw them. I didn’t know how I did…it was like there was an invisible string tethering his soul to mine. I felt it flutter through my body, the weight of his gaze everything but a burden. The mere thought made tears brim in the corners of my eyes.

This foreign feeling invaded my heart, axing down the walls I’d built around myself to keep the harsh words of this town from getting to me. It had worked since I was little but how, in one glance, had he managed to undo all of them?

I felt bare before him. No masks within reach were strong enough to withstand the unsaid words written across his eyes. I gulped, the deep breath of air I inhaled loosening the tightness of my chest. A sudden wave of uncertainty hit me like a pull of a riptide. I felt so lost yet grounded at the same time—his presence throwing me off balance yet remaining the only thing keeping me above the waves.

I’d spent my entire life hating him and I still did hate him…but one look at me with those soft, honey brown eyes wrapping around mine like an ivy vine had me contemplating how I could’ve ever hated him.

Now, he was my fake boyfriend, and maybe, just maybe, I could learn to feel something other than hatred towards him. I owed him my life, twice, so I guessed trying to be friendly was the least I could do.

The more I thought about it, the more I wondered if it was actually hate I felt at all. We were both so driven, so relentless as kids, and winning meant everything back then. It was number one or nothing. Second was just the first loser and neither of us wanted the weight of that title. I guess we were alike in that way.

I’d put surfing on a pedestal, it outweighed anything of value in my life. Friends, even family, they all came second to the waves. When I wasn’t surfing, I was dreaming about surfing. It was my entire life…and now it wasn’t . I was struggling to accept that—it’d been a part of me for so long, I had no idea how to live without it.

Perhaps, in time, I could learn to let go of the sport—let go of that piece of myself I guarded so dearly. But being out there on the waves was like breathing, how could anyone learn to live without that?

What if, instead of losing the sport, I could learn to accept the part of me that still grieved the loss of it from my life? To come to terms with the fact my little brother died, that my dad walked out that night, that my mom’s troubles were not a reflection of me or were in any way mine to deal with. To learn to reopen my heart to love, to weed out all the dark thoughts and throw away the scales that branded me.

What if I could learn to love myself again?

What if.

What if.

What if…