Tai pulls Maile’s pickup into the Sunset Beach lot. It’s before dawn and the sky’s still dark. The ocean is loud through the open window.
In another half an hour the lot will be packed with cars and vans. It’s strange, almost awful to step out of the car here, to crunch loudly over the gravel in his flip-flops, to feel like a visitor. This place is home. For years Tai’s simply walked across to the beach from the house, usually with Ollie, a surfboard, and no shoes. He wants to hide.
It’s raining—one of those soaking, tropical rains. It doesn’t put the surfers off when the waves are up, as they are today. But it does mean the chickens that usually roam the parking lot and grass by the toilet block are all in hiding. Tai can’t help but look over at the Blue House. All of its lights are out. The palms above the house are silhouetted in black against the dark sky, whipping back and forth in the rain and wind. Tai squeezes his eyes tightly shut and lets the rain fall on his face.
He carries the boards to the beach one by one and lines them up on the sand. He’s got four for trial, each of them slightly different. He’s been shifting their fins and wants to know what that will mean in heavy conditions.
He grabs the first board. The fin cluster’s spread out but farther forward than usual, so the ride will be smooth, but he should get some pivotal movement when he wants it. He dives out over the wash and paddles the long way around the break. The take-off zone is pretty clear for now, but the winds are offshore, and the waves are coming in long tidy tubes. When it gets crowded he’ll have to battle for every wave. It’s going to be a long day.
The first wave is sweet, even in the almost-dark. Tai paddles back out and stops, just resting on the inside shoulder. He’s loved this break since he first saw it. Right now the sun is rising over the mountains behind him, turning the ocean silver and gray through the rain. He’s not going to have his choice of wave for long. Already there are a few more paddlers in the channel. Tai watches as they come.
He recognizes Ollie’s strokes almost before he sees the dark-covered body and white hair. It’s less than a week since Tai left the Blue House for Maile’s place. Seeing Ollie again shouldn’t stop his breath. He tries to shake it off.
“Hey,” says Tai as Ollie reaches the lineup. After all, they’re friends. Friends talk when they meet like this, out on the waves.
Ollie lifts his chin in acknowledgment. The coolness of it stings.
It’s a relief that Tai needs to keep his eyes on the surf. When he’s catching a wave he doesn’t need to think about much beyond the water, what it’s doing, where it’s breaking, and keeping the board beneath his feet. He looks out to where a wave is building, then checks for the other surfers. He’s sitting pretty deep already.
He hesitates.
“That one’s yours, bro,” Ollie says beside him. It’s the way they reassured one another when they first started surfing together, when they were some of the youngest kids on these waves.
Tai doesn’t need to thank him. He’s already paddling hard away from the peak until the wave picks up his board and propels him forward. There’s no need to add any energy in this surf; he keeps himself positioned right and lets the water take him where it goes. He shifts his feet forward and turns to stay on the face. The board’s pretty good. Not magic, maybe, but responsive. It’ll be worth spending some time with this shape and placement.
A bit later, he’s on the beach, switching over to his second board, when Ollie walks across the sand. Tai watches him and his stomach twists.
“Hey,” says Ollie. His eyes flick away from Tai, and he tips his head to consider the board. He runs one hand over the nose. Tai resists stepping away. He resists reaching out and grabbing Ollie too.
“Hey,” Tai says. “Howzit going?”
Ollie’s eyes shift to him. His jaw is set. Tai’s heart thuds. Once, twice.
“Mostly I’m angry, Tai. I’m so fucking angry that you moved out on us.”
“I didn’t—” Tai starts. This is not how things are supposed to go.
Ollie goes on, his voice low and focused. “Have you forgotten everything? It’s supposed to be you and me, our family, in our house. The Blue House. Always. That’s our deal. We’re supposed to have one another forever.”
It sounds perfect, of course. It sounds exactly like everything Tai has ever hoped for in his whole life. But it hasn’t felt possible since they got home, and he doesn’t know how to say that, yet. “Maile needed my help,” he says.
“Don’t lie to me,” says Ollie quietly. “She doesn’t need your help, Tai. She loves you like a sister and she’s letting you stay because she’s nice and because you freaked out.”
“That’s not—”
“It’s not like I don’t know you, Tai. But you moved out, and I don’t get it. You’ve had sex with loads of other guys; it’s never even made you blink to see them again. So it can’t just be that. This is the one time you can’t afford to freak out on me. And it’s the first time you do.” He draws a quick breath. “It’s not okay. We promised that we’d stay friends for the sake of the house and for our family and—you promised me, Tai. And now you’re letting it all go because—I don’t know why. We were stupid.”
There’s nothing Tai wants to say to that. He tries, “I’m sorry.”
“What?” Ollie breathes. He looks heartbroken, and that’s unbearable.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t stay. I’m sorry, Ollie.” The tears have been sitting in the back of Tai’s throat for days. The rain has started up again so everything is wet anyway.
Ollie exhales heavily. When he goes on, his voice is softer but his eyes glint. “You can’t tear everything we’ve worked for apart, and then think it’s going to be okay if you say you’re sorry. You moved out. You moved out. Don’t apologize; tell me how to fix it. Tell me we can sort it out. ‘Cause right now I honestly don’t get it at all.”
Tai’s still holding a surfboard. He plants it in the sand. His hands shake. He speaks so he can just be heard over the sound of the surf. “Of course you don’t get it. It’s not the same for you, Ollie.”
Ollie says, “It is the same. This is the Blue House, Tai. It was the only thing that mattered to either of us. I thought you would give up anything for it.”
“Almost anything, as it turns out.” Tai says under his breath. He turns away. Then he says, “You’re right. I’ll fix things. It’ll get better, I promise. It’s just that—you can’t understand how it’s been impossible to be in the same room as you.”
Ollie’s eyes flicker to him, sharply, deeply hurt. “Don’t say that—”
Tai interrupts. “No, not—that’s not what I mean.” He needs to make this better.
Ollie doesn’t break his gaze.
Tai’s been pushed into a corner. It takes a lot for Ollie to trust Tai with his friendship, to trust that Tai won’t leave, and yet somehow the only way out of this conversation is breaking that trust. Or telling the truth. “It’s hard to be in the same room as you because—” Tai lifts his eyes and speaks. If he’s going to say this, he’ll say it clearly. “The trouble is, Ollie, I’m in love with you.”
The whole world is right there around them: the crashing waves, the crowds of surfers, the wind, and the rain. Still, it all narrows to one person. Ollie’s breathing stops. Tai swallows, hard. There’s no way for him to take the words back.
“It’s okay,” he says. “It’s nothing. It’s gonna be okay.”
Ollie stammers. “No. It’s not nothing, but—I don’t even know. I can’t—you don’t want that stuff.” Mostly, he looks horrified. “Tai. You’ve never wanted that.”
“I know.” Tai wipes a hand across his eyes angrily. “I know. Fuck. Sorry. I didn’t mean to tell you.” He takes a shaky breath. A tiny, secret part of him had hoped for a different response from Ollie. And that hope makes this hurt so much more. “Look, leave it with me. I’ll fix this. I need to take a break for a little. But we get to keep our plans. I’m not letting them go just because—” He runs out of words.
“Okay,” Ollie says slowly. “I’m not sure I know what this means.”
Tai rushes to fix everything. “You’re going on tour again in a week. You’ll be in South Africa. I’ll move back in to the house while you’re there. And, hey. It’s cool. I’ll get over it. So don’t worry.”
“Okay.” Ollie opens his mouth as though he has more to say, but nothing comes. They both stand there in the rain, stupid and lost. Tai runs his hands over his face.
“Want me to give your boards a run, too?” Ollie asks. Tai stops still. Ollie waves a hand at the boards lined up on the sand.
“No. You don’t have to.” Tai doesn’t want Ollie’s sympathy. He doesn’t really want Ollie’s company.
“I know I don’t have to. But a second opinion’s not a bad thing. I’d like to help.”
Tai’s miserable in a way he can’t shake, but when he exhales it’s half a laugh along with the sigh. He shakes his head. “Sure,” he says. “Why not?”
“I’ll take the one you already did.” Ollie plants his own board in the sand. It’s one of Tai’s too, of course. He lifts the new board under his arm and lopes out toward the surf.
“Come on,” he says, looking back.
Tai watches him and focuses. He can’t change what he said. He can’t change that it’s true and he’s somehow made such a fucking mess of everything with Ollie. But it’s a relief to have it said. Now he has to figure out how to live with it.