"You were close?"
"Yeah. Best friends. Until she went to college. She was always there to make shit better. Our parents are the type to sweep shit under the rug. They'd always pretend like everything was fine, try to hide their fights. But they didn't. I always heard them. It freaked me out. Bree would calm me down. Distract me."
Iris's lips press together. Her eyes go to her nails. They're lilac.
"I… um, I guess I should try to actually catch one of these." She motions to the waves breaking toward the beach.
Yeah. I'm here to teach her. Conversation can come later. The beach isn't the place to zone out. The ocean is merciless. It's easy to lose control. Get pulled into the depths or smacked into the sand.
I don't mind taking that risk every time I step on my board.
But I'm not asking that of Iris.
I'm here to protect her as much as I'm here to teach her.
Still. "These are shit waves. After the next set."
"I have no idea what that means."
"Parents didn't make you do Jr. Lifeguards?"
"No. Swim team. Our neighborhood had one."
"Whose didn't?"
"True."
"What was your stroke?"
"Breaststroke. You?"
"Freestyle."
"Of course."
"Of course?" I raise a brow.
"You just seem like the type." She scrunches her brow. Thinking.
About this?
Or about what she wanted to tell me?
It doesn't matter. Either way, I need to guide her through this. To get her focusing on her immediate surroundings.
I nod uh huh, even though she's full of it, then I motion to the waves. There's one rolling toward the beach. "Waves come in a set. Three or four, then there's a calm, then another set. The waves in the same set tend to be abou
t the same size. But all the waves here are small. That's why I came here."
"Bunny slopes?"
"Basically." I turn her board in the right direction. "Think freestyle for this. You want to paddle with the wave until you feel it catch you, then do a pop-up. I'll tell when you've caught it. Yell 'Iris, now.' But the ocean's loud. You might not hear me. If you feel like you've got it, go for it."
"Uh…" She stares back at me in horror.
"You can do it. Trust me."
"That's my line."