The Perfect Wave (fiction), sample page:
My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of my iPhone. The ringtone I had set for Cameron was “Ground Zero,” by the hard-rock group Lethal Destroyer, a band we were both into.
“Hey, Cam, what’s up?” I asked.
“Nothing dude, I just noticed something kinda funny and I wanted to tell you about it. You know how school lets us choose one optional elective class every semester?”
“Don’t remind me,” I groaned. “They should call the site www.lame-ass-Monroe-High-Electives.com.”
Cameron chuckled, “Yeah, tell me about it. But let’s see if this changes your mind. It looks like Monroe High is going to be offering a brand new class that might be of some interest to you. Check this out, Jake, it’s listed right here: January semester, Course name: Soul Surfing. What do you think of that?”
I had always wondered why our high school didn’t offer a surfing class like other beach community schools, but Soul Surfing? My immediate reaction was to laugh dismissively. “Cam, isn’t that some wacky philosophy about believing that surfing is deep and spiritual, like a religion?”
“Yes it is, my son,” Cameron joked. “You must reject all your worldly possessions and come to the ocean for salvation and healing.”
I laughed and asked, "Who’s the instructor, anyway?”
“It lists a guy called Mr. Mike W. Cooper. I’ve never even heard of anyone by that name at school. What do ya think, bro, are you ready to become a soul surfer?” The sarcasm in Cameron’s voice was unmistakable.
“Yeah, right, Cam. I’d rather take ballet. That guy Mr. Cooper is probably a fat old teacher who has boogie-boarded a few times at Santa Monica beach and now thinks he’s an expert. Dude, I’m a competitive surfer, I don’t need some old guy telling me a bunch of stupid stuff that has nothing to do with hitting the beach and shredding waves.”
We talked for a couple more minutes and then Cameron had to get back to his studying. As for me, I wasn’t motivated to spend a whole evening doing boring homework. After maybe ten minutes of going through the motions, I grew restless and started checking out some X-Games clips and YouTube videos. Later, I watched an online documentary called Surf Paradise, which focused on hard-to-find spots in New Zealand and the Fiji Islands. I fantasized about traveling to exotic locations to surf the best waves in the world, just like my favorite surfer, Billy Hewitt. I figured he had it made…jetting across the world, surfing beautiful, uncrowded beaches, and getting paid for it, too. Man, what an awesome life! I went to sleep that night dreaming of white sand, warm water, and perfect barrels.
“Hey, Cam, what’s up?” I asked.
“Nothing dude, I just noticed something kinda funny and I wanted to tell you about it. You know how school lets us choose one optional elective class every semester?”
“Don’t remind me,” I groaned. “They should call the site www.lame-ass-Monroe-High-Electives.com.”
Cameron chuckled, “Yeah, tell me about it. But let’s see if this changes your mind. It looks like Monroe High is going to be offering a brand new class that might be of some interest to you. Check this out, Jake, it’s listed right here: January semester, Course name: Soul Surfing. What do you think of that?”
I had always wondered why our high school didn’t offer a surfing class like other beach community schools, but Soul Surfing? My immediate reaction was to laugh dismissively. “Cam, isn’t that some wacky philosophy about believing that surfing is deep and spiritual, like a religion?”
“Yes it is, my son,” Cameron joked. “You must reject all your worldly possessions and come to the ocean for salvation and healing.”
I laughed and asked, "Who’s the instructor, anyway?”
“It lists a guy called Mr. Mike W. Cooper. I’ve never even heard of anyone by that name at school. What do ya think, bro, are you ready to become a soul surfer?” The sarcasm in Cameron’s voice was unmistakable.
“Yeah, right, Cam. I’d rather take ballet. That guy Mr. Cooper is probably a fat old teacher who has boogie-boarded a few times at Santa Monica beach and now thinks he’s an expert. Dude, I’m a competitive surfer, I don’t need some old guy telling me a bunch of stupid stuff that has nothing to do with hitting the beach and shredding waves.”
We talked for a couple more minutes and then Cameron had to get back to his studying. As for me, I wasn’t motivated to spend a whole evening doing boring homework. After maybe ten minutes of going through the motions, I grew restless and started checking out some X-Games clips and YouTube videos. Later, I watched an online documentary called Surf Paradise, which focused on hard-to-find spots in New Zealand and the Fiji Islands. I fantasized about traveling to exotic locations to surf the best waves in the world, just like my favorite surfer, Billy Hewitt. I figured he had it made…jetting across the world, surfing beautiful, uncrowded beaches, and getting paid for it, too. Man, what an awesome life! I went to sleep that night dreaming of white sand, warm water, and perfect barrels.