Tai cracks his eyes open to a bright, blank Australian hotel room ceiling. The other bed is empty, its sheets flung back. Sunlight streams in through the half-open curtains. One curtain’s got itself caught in the wind and billows through the open balcony door.
Ollie’s outside on the narrow balcony. He’s slim, silhouetted against the bright sea and Southern Hemisphere sky. His hair is lit up so it looks like a scruffy, crooked halo around his head. He’s chewing his nails.
It’s their fifth day in Coolangatta, on the Gold Coast of Eastern Australia. They’ve spent their days trying to get in a free surf on the couple of gutless waves that have popped up around the rocks. Every day the water’s flat, and the competition is on hold. It’s frustrating. Ollie’s watched the water obsessively. He’s chewed his fingernails and has snapped at Tai a few times for no reason.
Their hotel room is on the north side of the hotel, facing up the coast over miles of beaches, with the city and green mountains behind them. From this high up, it looks a bit like home, but the coastline stretches too far to the north, and the air’s different: cooler and lighter and less fragrant.
Ollie’s leaning over the balcony railing to see more of the ocean. His body is stretched out, tapering from his shoulders to his narrow, muscled waist. He’s lovely to look at. Tai sighs and shakes his head. It’s been worse since Ollie kissed him, harder to be in the same space as Ollie without noticing his physicality.
“Morning,” Tai calls out. He yawns and arches his back, lets his spine curve into place.
Ollie turns his head. “Morning. It’s another flat one out there.”
They’re used to being in this space now. At first it was weird for the two of them to be together in a pristine room with wide white beds, amazing water pressure, and maid service. The only time they’d stayed in a hotel room like this before was the night they kissed. So the whole first day they got here, they scarcely looked at one another. Ollie skirted Tai in the room, keeping more space between them than he usually did.
Things have settled. They’ve lived in the same house for years; they’ve been inseparable since they first met. However much things change, time together at home is always going to end up domestic and ordinary. The only difference is now they’re on the other side of the Pacific.
Ollie steps into the doorway. “You were out late last night.” He leans against the doorframe and chews on his thumb; his body is at ease even when his mind is clearly distracted. Tai blinks at the familiar ache. “Was some sort of party happening downstairs?”
“Nah, not really, I just sat talking with the guys. Some of the veterans stayed up and a couple of guys who know this break. Ashton and that guy Brandon, too, remember from the hallway at the resort? The lost Australian? All of them reckon the comp’s going to start today.”
Ollie frowns, thinking, and looks out and down to the ocean again. “I don’t know, Tai, it’s still flat. At least from way up here. There’s hardly any surf at all.”
“Yeah, though we can’t see what it’s doing at Snapper Rocks. That’s where the best of it will be. Apparently you can get a little bit of surf with the wind onshore like this.”
“Okay,” says Ollie dubiously.
Tai sits up on the edge of his bed. Because of the two-week competition window, the league needs to start the competition soon, otherwise there won’t be enough time left to finish. “It’s not like I know for sure,” says Tai. “I’m letting you know what I heard.”
Ollie nods. “And do your new friends have much to say about how to surf it when it’s dead flat?”
“They’re keeping that information close to their chests.” Ollie sighs and walks to sit on his bed, facing Tai across the gap. Tai goes on. “I’m taking it as a compliment. To you. They know a real threat when they see one. Usually I’m more persuasive.”
Ollie laughs a little. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. We’ve all heard those stories, Tai.”
It’s ordinary teasing, but it’s become awkward in the last weeks. Tai blushes. He throws a pillow at Ollie’s head. It glances off and bounces on the bed. Ollie grins and things are back to normal-ish.
When Tai finishes in the shower, he wraps a towel around his waist and uses a second one to towel his hair. He opens the door. Steam billows into the main room.
Ollie is on the edge of the bed, with one leg stuck out in front of him. He’s got a bandage half wrapped around his ankle. It’s hanging loosely around his foot.
“Shit.” Ollie unwinds it and starts over.
Tai tucks the towel more tightly at his waist. “Let me do it. You’re making a mess of it.”
Ollie hesitates, and Tai wonders if he’s going to reject the help. “Okay. Yeah, thanks.”
Tai takes Ollie’s foot in one hand. Ollie’s breathing pauses.
“Giving you trouble?” Tai asks to ward off any awkwardness that comes with touching Ollie when they’re alone. If they were on the beach, this would be easier.
“A twinge. Nothing to worry about. But better to be safe.”
“Yeah, you don’t want to favor the other one.” Tai pulls the bandage tight. “This all right?”
“Good, thanks.”
Under Tai’s fingers, Ollie’s ankle feels all too human – tendon and bone and skin. Tai doesn’t linger, just wraps the bandage around the joint and up and down, maintaining the tension. Ollie studiously looks away from him.
“All done.” Tai pats Ollie’s foot and lets it drop to the bed.
“Thanks,” says Ollie again. His phone buzzes and he glances at it. “You’re right. It’s like the guys said. We’re on today.”
Once Tai’s dressed, they head to the dining room for breakfast. Their table overlooks the water. They sit opposite one another. Some others from the tour are eating, but everyone’s got their game face on, so no one chats.
Toward the end of the meal, Brandon stops by the table and claps Tai on the shoulder. “Told you we’d be competing today, man,” he says.
“Morning, Brandon,” says Tai. Brandon’s easy to like. Tai’s happy to see him. “That you did.”
Brandon has his longish black hair pulled into a topknot on the crown of his head. He stretches out a hand. “So you’re Ollie, then.”
Ollie nods and shakes his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Brandon Hong. We met, but I honestly don’t blame you if you don’t remember. I was that dickhead who was lost in the hallway of the resort. You had other things on your mind.”
“Oh,” says Ollie. He glances at Tai. He’s waiting for Tai to fill the gap in conversation, but Tai’s tongue-tied. They were distracted, but Brandon seems to be making a huge assumption. Ollie says, “I’m surprised you remember much.”
Brandon grins and taps his head. “It’s one of my superpowers. Okay then. Well, I’ll meet you in the third round if things go well for both of us.”
“Sounds good,” says Ollie
Once Brandon’s gone, Tai downs his orange juice. It’s time for business. “Let’s go through this one more time.” Ollie rolls his eyes. “Don’t roll your eyes at me,” Tai says. “What’s the strategy?”
“Same as ever. I keep a lookout for the right wave and until then I wait it out.”
Tai contemplates. “Don’t wait too long, though, Ollie. There’ aren’t many good waves out there today.”
They both watch for a while. The surf’s uninspiring.
Ollie shrugs. “Okay, so I hold on for an okay wave, anything maybe waist height. I push on that.” He takes a breath, and Tai watches it catch in his chest.
The silence between them is full of nervy energy. Tai shakes it off. They don’t need to have this conversation. Ollie already knows everything Tai knows. “You’ll be great, Ollie. Just pick your own wave. Don’t let the others talk and put you off your game.” Tai glances at his watch, knowing before he sees that it’s time to go. “Are you done? We can grab your boards and get over there.”
As he stands, Ollie is paler than ever; his freckles are stark against his skin. Tai hates to see him nervous. He’s watched Ollie face monster waves on Pipeline and beat the best in the world in comp after junior comp in Hawaii, and one time in California. But this is the world circuit, they’re far from home, and the waves are flat.
“It’ll be okay,” Tai says. He knows better than to touch Ollie when Ollie’s like this. Ollie needs to be in control of his own skin. “You got yourself here because you’re the best,” Tai says. Ollie nods, but doesn’t look at Tai. “You’re gonna be amazing.”
Out on the ocean, Ollie’s tense. He lets the veteran get a couple of waves and hold position on him for ten minutes. The pressure builds and Ollie takes off on the wrong wave.
He paddles out again, but he’s stuck waiting while the other two have position. They can choose their waves. For another five minutes there’s nothing worth catching. Ollie does his best on a weak knee-high wave but there’s not much he can do. The horn sounds to indicate the heat’s over. Ollie comes in third, way out of the running.
He walks across the sand. His body is drained and his muscles tremble. The disappointment is heavy and huge in his chest. He can’t even look at Tai. “I have to go,” he says when Tai approaches.
Tai’s grimace is apologetic. “Okay. But first you need to get to the press room.”
“Fuck.” Ollie’s not good with the media at the best of times.
“I know.” Tai’s sympathy is clear. Ollie is half warmed by it and half irritated. He doesn’t need sympathy. “It won’t take long. Then you can get away from all of this.” Tai’s hands shift at his sides, but he doesn’t reach out to touch Ollie. Ollie’s grateful for that.
“Right,” Ollie looks down at the sand.
In the press room, a guy in a polo shirt holds out a microphone.
“Ollie! Rough day.”
“Can’t win it all.”
“Was it a fluke at Pipeline? A one-off thing?”
Ollie takes a big breath. Everyone around is competition. It’s time to fake the confidence he doesn’t feel. “Nope. Wait ‘til you see me tomorrow.”
The next day Ollie scrapes through heat two when his opponent fails to find a decent second wave. It’s a win, but it’s not encouraging.
For days after that, the ocean is flat. There’s nothing worth catching. The league makes the call for a first lay day, then a second and a third. The scoreboard on the beach reads, “On hold.”
Ollie and Tai spend the time training as close to the rocks as possible despite the crowds, trying to drag some energy or even a simple ride out of the lack of swell. It’s frustrating and unrewarding.
“At least this few days’ lay time means we’re not jetlagged,” says Tai.
Ollie glares at him and doesn’t bother to reply. Tai’s positivity could sometimes use a break.
The third night of the delay, they’re in their beds early. Even with the balcony windows open to the regular pounding of the waves, Ollie can’t sleep. He lies on his back, and then shifts unhappily to one side, then the other. He turns his pillow over and rests his cheek against the cool side, facing away from Tai’s bed. He rolls back onto his back. There’s nothing of interest to see on the ceiling.
“That’s it,” Tai’s voice comes out of the dark. There’s a shuffle as he sits up on his bed. “I’m calling the concierge. Tomorrow we’re renting a car.”
“Why?”
“We need to get the hell out of here. You’ve worked your ass off getting nothing out of the tiny waves. Let’s take a breath and enjoy being here. It’s Australia, Ollie. Our teenage selves would kick our asses for hanging around on flat surf when we’re here.”
“They would.”
“Ashton says there’s a better swell up at Noosa. Nothing huge, but at least we’ll get a surf. You and me and our boards. No one will be watching, or no one who matters anyway. We can drive there first thing.”
It sounds perfect, of course.
But Ollie says, “I can’t, Tai, I need to practice here. Someday they’ll get the comp started again and this is the surf I need to win on.”
“Yeah. But.” Tai switches on his bedside light. Ollie blinks against the glare and then leans on one arm and focuses. Tai sits cross-legged. He scrutinizes Ollie and chews on his lip. “You’ll never win the heat if you don’t get back some sort of joy in the water and your board. You’re forcing it, Ollie. You need to forget the competition for a day, stop churning it over in your head, and just surf.” He nods with all the earnestness Ollie’s seen in him since he was thirteen. “Anyway, wherever we surf here, it’s all the same ocean.”
It’s the same ocean at home too. And Ollie and Tai have been in it a thousand times. It stretches all the way north and east, endless miles of it, then wraps around Oahu and beats against the shore right near their house. Ollie settles into the thought. “You’re probably right.”
“Usually.” Tai grins. “At least where you’re concerned.” He calls reception and speaks pleasantly to the concierge. Then he switches out the light and settles down in his bed. Ollie closes his eyes. The water moves its almighty weight all the way from here to their home. It’s easier to sleep now.
The next morning, they strap their boards to the roof racks of a rental car and drive away from the hotel just as the sun touches the long horizon.
Tai masters driving on the left side of the road in an instant. They don’t talk much as they drive. They keep the windows down and turn the radio up. Tai sings along, drumming his palms against the steering wheel. Ollie hums under his breath and sticks his bare feet up on the dashboard. The sun warms them through the windshield. He wriggles his toes.
It’s late in the morning when they drive through the ocean-side bush and scrub of the national park near Noosa. Tai parks where a few cars are pulled off the road. They put on their flip-flops. Ollie unstraps the boards from the roof. It’s a bit of a trek in, walking around the headland along a rough sandy track. They follow the track all the way to a granite-edged bay, then make their long way down until the tiny beach appears. The beach is edged by green-gray scrub and dark rocks that thrust their way out of the ocean and curve around the sand.
It’s too late in the day for the water to be glassy smooth, but it’s still clear. Better than that, the point’s producing some nice mid-sized waves where a sandbar kicks out from the shore.
Ollie glances at Tai.
“Good, yeah?” Tai smiles broadly. He looks immensely proud of himself.
“Perfect,” Ollie says, returning the smile.
Out in the deep, they sit upright on their boards and watch the waves. They let their legs dangle beneath them and get accustomed to the movement of the ocean. The swell isn’t huge, but there’s a long break and a nice sharp edge to play with as the water moves over the sandbar.
They don’t work on anything at all. They just surf, and let the water take them where it takes them. On one wave, Ollie gets snapback after snapback, lifting his fins out at the peak and letting the spray surround him. As he paddles back out he watches Tai do a lovely aerial, flying over the top of the lip and letting his front foot bring the board back to the water. Ollie hollers encouragement.
Later, as Ollie takes a wave in, Tai shouts over the noise of the ocean, “I’m starving.”
Ollie hasn’t been very hungry on the tour, but right now he’s ravenous. “Me too,” he shouts, though Tai probably can’t hear. Ollie lets the wave take him as far as it can, then grabs his board and heads up the beach. They’ve got lunch they bought in town at Surfer’s Paradise and left knotted in its plastic bag and hanging from a tree at the top of the beach.
Ollie throws a towel down in the shade under a couple of trees, then sits cross-legged and unpacks the sandwiches. The drinks aren’t sweating anymore, but they aren’t warm. The sand’s dry this high up the beach, so it might blow around and get into their food, but it’s cooler here out of the sun.
Ollie watches Tai leap off his board in the wash and make his easy way up the beach. He’s so sure of how his body moves. There’s a brightness to the air around him. Ollie probably looks like an idiot, but he can’t stop grinning as he watches. He hands over a can of soda. Tai flops down in the sand.
“Thanks.” Tai throws back his head and swallows half of it.
“This was a good idea,” says Ollie.
“Did you doubt it?” Tai takes a bite and chews. He swallows. “I saw you were getting some awesome snapbacks on the top of those last few. Your fins were way clear of the water.”
Ollie nods. It feels good down to his bones to get it right in the water again.
They finish in silence, with just the ocean and air and squawking sea birds. “Shall we head back?” asks Tai a bit later. “Or have one more go at it?”
It’ll be a long trip back to the hotel, first all the way up the walking track and then the drive. It’s going to be dark before they get back. The competition could be back on tomorrow and Ollie needs to rest up for it, but he looks at the ocean with its line of waves and can’t resist. “Let’s go back out for a few.”
Tai nods, unsurprised and smiling. The Australian sun is still hot and it beats down on them. Ollie pulls out the sunscreen. It’s warm and liquid as they put it on. Tai leaves a streak down one side of his face and Ollie reaches to rub it in before he thinks. He blushes.
Tai shifts away. He stands. “I call dibs on the first good wave.” He grabs his board and runs out.
“No chance.” Ollie hoists his board and follows Tai over the sand and into the surf.
It gets dark on the drive home. The lights of Surfer’s Paradise are a beacon, sky high and backed by the expanse of black ocean.
They leave the boards downstairs in the lockup.
“You shower first,” says Tai once they’re upstairs. “I’m going to sit out on the balcony.”
Ollie groans with pleasure as the warm water batters his shoulders and arms and rushes over his aching body. The heat seeps into him. All the salt and sand pours down the drain. Every part of him feels good. At length he turns the water off and shakes his hair so it sprays the shower walls.
He steps out. The towel he grabs is huge and rough in exactly the right way. It’s been a long day. His eyes are heavy and his muscles are weary.
“Your turn,” he calls to Tai before collapsing onto the bed. He pushes back the covers without getting up, just shoves them down under his body with his hands and feet, then covers himself with the cool sheet.
Tai comes in as Ollie closes his eyes. His voice comes softly. “’Night, Ollie.” Ollie settles in deeper. Between waking and sleep, he hears Tai’s tread across the room. Everything is easier with Tai nearby. Ollie is warm and heavy, sweet and safe as he’s dragged into sleep.