One

The wave came crashing down, a giant wall of whitewater barreling toward Logan. He sucked in his breath, pushing down hard on the front of his board with all his weight. He dove deep beneath the whitewater seconds before it swallowed him whole.

 As the currents fought to rip Logan from his board, a strange calm settled his pounding heart. Surrounded by the whiteness of the churning surf overhead, he wondered what it’d be like if he could stay down there forever. He could forget about graduation. Forget about leaving the only life he’d ever known behind. Forget his deadbeat dad, his mom working two shifts, the fight with Fin at the Prom. He could just chill out in the deep murky green of the Pacific with some mermaid honeys, getting high on killer seaweed bud. Z-boy could supply him with a steady stream of pepperoni mini-pizzas, and at night, they could surf the glassy waves by the light of the moon. That would be the life…

He shot up to the top, blasting out into a roar of unruly surf. Then he remembered why he was out there. He needed to feel alive again. He needed to ride a Perfect Monster Wave.

“Goddamn! That’s what I’m talking about!” he shouted, wiping the dark, tangled mane away from his eyes. Logan grinned at the set of massive waves lining up before them. They were way bigger than they’d ever surfed before, that’s for sure. And they kept coming, one after another.

Z-boy flung back his bleach-blond dreads as he forged ahead. “Perfect Monster Waves, brah! Just what the doctor ordered!” His real name was Zane, but he called himself Z-boy after that crazy Dogtown Zephyr Boys surf team, which he totally idolized. Now he was trying to live up to that gonzo reputation.

“Hell, yeah. Bring it on!” Logan laughed as he headed into the surf.  These were real beasts, two-three times his height, thick and explosive. He’d heard that when the fearless big wave rider Manoa Drollet rode his Perfect Monster Wave, his whole life crystallized before him and he suddenly realized his purpose in life. Playing with death will do that to you, he thought as he shot up over the top of the final mammoth wave of the set.

Logan and Z-boy fought their way though a rolling sea of thick snapping foam to the line up, where maybe 15 hardcore locals were waiting for the next waves. He had only a minute to catch his breath before he felt the water slowly pulling him out to sea.

“Goddamn, check it out, Z…” Logan said in awe as a massive wave rose from the deep waters of the bay, blocking out the horizon. It was so far out that it would’ve been impossible for them to catch it.

Z-boy pointed to the small figure shooting across the face of the monster. “Shit, Fin got it,” said Z-boy.

Riding the beast was Fin Hamilton, the hottest 17-year-old surfer in Southern California. Wearing his trademark orange trunks and his newly shaved head, Fin fearlessly attacked the monster curl, riding it like a true big wave rider. He disappeared deep into the tube that surrounded him as the other surfers whooped and hollered at his triumph.

But suddenly, they went silent when the wave closed out on Fin with a huge THWOMP! Logan was the only one grinning. He hoped that one hurt.

“Bastard. See, karma pays.” He knew that wave would hold Fin down for a while. At least, that was some form of payback.

Logan and the others scrambled and dove under the wave’s oncoming whitewater. When they emerged on the other side, Z-boy shook his head at Logan. “Dude, you can’t hold a grudge forever.”

“It’s only been a month. Can’t I hate the guy at least that long?” Logan huffed. He gazed at the horizon, anticipating the next wave.

Z-boy paddled past him. “I think you’re jealous.”

Logan shot a look at Z-boy. “Of Fin Hamilton?”

“Yeah, because Fin got a sponsor and is going on tour and has a ‘famous’ surfer dad.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “So?”

“So?? Okay, how bout this: you can’t stand that he has all that and he beat your ass.”

Logan glanced toward the shore to see if Fin was paddling back. He couldn’t see him. “One punch is not a beating. And it wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t stolen my date.”

“Dude, you didn’t even like that girl.”

Logan paddled further out, waiting for a rise in the water. He knew Z-boy was right, of course. He had taken that girl just so he wouldn’t show up at the Prom alone. Then Logan got drunk and kept mocking Fin’s success in front of everybody. Maybe he was jealous, or maybe he was just trying to show Fin up, but their long friendship took a big hit that night when things got out of hand. They hadn’t talked since.

Logan wiped the hair out of his eyes. “Why are you taking his side? I taught that sellout how to ride!”

“Yeah? Well, maybe that’ll get you some more free wax at Shredder’s.”

Fin’s dad, the legendary Buddy “Shredder” Hamilton, ran the biggest surf shop in Southern California. When Logan was eight and started to surf, Buddy was already in his 50s, and too busy to teach his own son. So he gave Logan free board wax to surf with Fin and the rest was history. That was, until their friendship became history.

Logan felt the ocean rumble. He and Z-boy looked up to see another giant wave rising from the water.

“Let’s show Fin who’s hot shit,” Logan said. “We got this one!”

The wave shot up quickly as he whipped his board around and paddled into position.

The sheer size of it freaked Z-boy. “You sure?” he shouted, staring down the wave’s face.

“Let’s go, man! It’s now or never!” Logan paddled frantically into the wave, rising to his feet as he imagined the photographers on shore capturing this moment for all eternity— him and his amigo, riding side-by-side on the biggest swell to ever hit these shores—

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Z-boy pull out of the wave at the last second. When Logan saw the drop in front of him, he suddenly knew why. It was like diving off a cliff.

Logan quickly found his board almost vertical, his arms flailed about, trying to keep his body upright. He regained his balance, dragging his hand along the face of the wave to steady himself. His board edging deep into the water, he ripped a freakish turn at the bottom and suddenly he was shooting across the wave faster than he’d ever gone before—

Suddenly, Logan saw a flash of orange and was airborn. 

As he floated through the air, time seemed to stand still. Logan felt his leash snap and he hit the water, skidding down the wave on his back. All he could do was wait for the towering beast to smash him to smithereens.

Logan took the deepest breath of his life. He thought it might be his last.

He forced his body into a tight ball, fighting to keep his limbs intact as the wave barreled down on top of him. Thrown about like a rag doll in a washing machine, Logan bounced off the ocean floor, skinning his legs and arms as he rolled head over heels in the turmoil.

Logan finally found the ground and pushed off with enough force to shoot his way up through the mayhem. But as soon as he broke through to the surface, a second wave pummeled him, slamming him back down again.

It was in this chaos that Logan, dizzy and confused, caught a glimpse of a lifeless body in orange trunks tumbling about in the murky surf.

Fin.

Before he knew it, Logan felt a hand hauling him up by the neck of his wetsuit. He had no strength left.  The last thing he saw was Fin’s body being sucked into a blizzard of whitewater.

When Logan finally came up, he hacked and swallowed huge gulps of air. He held on tight to the arm that was around him, looking up out of the corner of his eye to see who it was.

“Z-boy…” he sputtered.

“Don’t fight me,” said his amigo, exhausted. “I’m trying to save you!” They battled against the raging current to stay afloat, but quickly got sucked under again.

Logan held onto him, dragging Z-boy further down as they fought in opposite directions. Now Z-boy was in trouble. When Logan’s foot finally touched the ground, he pushed off, bringing Z-boy back up with him. They struggled against the current until the tide receded enough to where they could stand again.

Logan gasped for breath. The ground never felt so good. The water receded to chest level, but the surf still echoed in his head. Logan labored hard to breathe, his body hurt like someone had sucker punched him right in the heart.

Then Logan remembered—

“Fin,” he said in a daze. “I-I thought I saw Fin down there—”

Z-boy tried to grab him. “Whoa, hold up, will ya? What’dya mean you saw Fin out there? He was surfing like the rest of us—”

“No! In the water! In the water!” Logan screamed. “I saw him! In the water—”

Then Logan saw him. A body in orange trunks floating face down.

“Fin!” he grabbed Z-boy and pointed frantically.

Z-boy’s eyes went wide, and they both scrambled over. A few other surfers saw the commotion, then the body, and rushed over to help.

But Logan got there first. He forgot about nearly drowning. He grabbed Fin’s body, fighting to flip his former friend over.

“Fin!” yelled Logan. He held Fin’s head up out of the water. There was a big gash in his forehead, blood seeping out into the sea. “We gotta get him outta here!”

Logan and Z-boy dragged him back to shore, leaving a brownish-red trail of blood in the murky water. A crowd gathered as they brought his lifeless body onto the sand. A lifeguard rushed over to perform CPR, but as Logan gazed down into Fin’s vacant eyes, it was clear that it was too late. He felt sick to his stomach. Just a few minutes ago, he’d wished the worst for his ex-friend. Now Fin was…

He couldn’t think it. Logan lay down on the wet sand away from the madness, the mud cooling his feverish head. His mind drifted back to when they were eight. He, Z-boy, and Fin used to lie on their backs in the wet sand to play chicken. They were always trying to outdo each other as the tide rushed in, swallowing them whole. They would hold their breath till the water slowly receded. The first one to move would lose.

Logan took a deep breath and held on.