By the time I race like hell for the ocean, snatching some kid’s abandoned boogie board off the sand as I run, Sam is getting slammed by a shoulder high wave so hard that when she goes under she doesn’t come up again for a long, long time.
I hit the water at a sprint, muscles burning as I fight my way past the shore break, heart lodging in my throat until I see her dark head surface in the trough, her shoulders heaving as she pulls in a breath.
“I’m coming, Sam!” I scream as I shove out into the deep water, using the boogie board like a kick board and kicking like crazy toward her, hoping the board will be enough to keep us both afloat until we can get out of the rip tide.
I scream her name again, but I’m not sure she can hear me over the roar of the surf and I need all the oxygen in my lungs to keep kicking like hell as I duck under waves that are curling hard overhead, clawed fingers determined to scratch through skin and draw blood. It’s a brutal swim, but I make good time and I’m almost close enough to touch her when a double wave catches the front of my board and flips me hard.
If I’d taken the time to leash the board to my wrist, I would have been able to let go and use my arms to fight free of the roll, but I didn’t. If I let go of the board now, I’m never going to get my hands on it again, and Sam and I might both die because of it. I’m a strong swimmer, but not as strong as she is, and definitely not strong enough to tow her to shore without something to help me stay afloat.
I tighten my grip on the boogie board and concentrate on holding my breath while I’m spun like a top and punched down toward the bottom of the ocean. Finally, after seconds that stretch on forever, with nothing but the darkness behind my eyes and the muted rumble of the water frothing above my head to keep me company, the wave decides it’s done with me and spits me back up toward the light.
The second I break the surface, I suck in air and shake the hair from my eyes, blinking as I scan the water around me, trying to orient myself and figure out how far I am from Sam.
“Danny!” she screams. “Over here!”
I spin in the water, spotting her not five feet away. Our gazes lock as another monster wave bears down and then we’re both pulling in air and dropping beneath the curl.
The moment of eye contact lasts less than two seconds, but in those two seconds everything that needs to be said passes between us. I tell her to hang tight and I’ll be there as soon as the wave passes over. She tells me that she’s scared to death, but she can hold on for a few more minutes.
Ever since we were kids, I’ve been able to read everything I need to know in her eyes. How to give her comfort, how to give her pleasure, when she wants me to tease her into talking about the shit that’s bothering her, and when she wants to sit next to me and share a silent moment. I never have to ask Sam what she’s thinking. I never have to wonder how something I’ve said made her feel.
And I’ve never been more grateful for that than when I break through the surface, scissor kick to her side, and slide the boogie board into her hands. I know without either of us wasting a breath that she’s okay now, and we’re going to get through this together.
We duck under another wave, but by the time the next one is rolling toward us, Sam is on the boogie board in front of me and I’m leveraged above her, holding on tight as we catch the swell and ride the crest diagonally toward shore. We get pounded once or twice, but we stay together, hold on tight to the board, and within ten minutes we’ve team boogie boarded back to water shallow enough to stand in.
We lock hands, and I squeeze her fingers tight as we struggle out of the water and collapse onto the sand, gasping for breath.
“Shit,” Sam says after a moment, her breath still coming fast. “I thought I was going to die.”
“I thought you were, too,” I say, the words making me laugh for some crazy reason.
“Shit,” Sam repeats, laughing along with me. “That’s the word that kept going through my head, over and over again, shit shit shit shit shit. I thought I was going to die and my last words were just one long stream of profanity. I’m so disappointed in myself.”