"Life is like surfing a good wave. We have those moments where you feel as though you are on the top of the world and those where your life comes crashing down all around you."
Ainsley Matthews, ex-pro surfer, has been though a lot in the past. From...
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C H A P T E R T H I R T E E N free falling
shredding: an aggressive form of surfing.
I was exhausted.
My muscles were aching, limbs were screaming, and my eyes burning from the amount of time that I had spent in the water.
I never did stand up today but according to Dawson, a few times I was quite close. "It is only a matter of time." he told me, as he lightly draped his arm over top of my shoulders.
"I hope so." I responded with a small laugh as we placed our boards on top of the sand.
The sun was setting over the cliffs beside us causing the sky to turn brilliant shades of pinks and reds, the colours dancing and scattering off the ocean causing it to sparkle.
Since the sun was soon to be hidden behind the cliffs, the warmth that was here a few moment ago was now drifting away as I hugged my arms closer to my body trying to keep warm.
"Ready to go?" Dawson asks as he picked up his board and mine.
I follow Dawson along the board walk until we reach his truck which is parked along the sandy shores.
He hands me my board whilst he stands on the bed of his truck and secures his surfboard onto the roof.
"So there is this party tomorrow night down by the pier. I was wondering if you'd want to go? Your friends, umm they can come too, that is if they'd like to?" He asks, as he keeps his focus on tying up to board.
I laugh at how nervous he seems to be. "Sure id love to." He flashes me his heart warming smile before grabbing my surfboard from my hands.
Standing outside, I shiver as the ocean breeze blows through my dampened hair. I open the door to the jeep and find one of Dawson's sweater sitting on the backseat.
I grab the sweater and step down from the truck making my way back over to try and help Dawson even though he's refused my help numerous times.
"Do you mind if I wear this?" I ask, my voice quiet as I show Dawson the white sweater. He nods and I pull it over my body allowing it to hang around my mid thigh.
"I don't know how you manage to make a sweatshirt look good but that sweater looks way better on you than it ever did on me." Dawson says stopping what he's doing to look at me as a blush finds it's way onto my cheeks. "Keep it, I don't use it much anyways."
I was never one to respond well to compliments. "Thank you Daws." was all I managed to say but even those words seemed as a little bit of a surprise to Dawson.
