liberty | jj maybank

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SURFING ETIQUETTE

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THREE YEARS AGO

Tatum Abbot's surfboard cut through the water like a knife.

The tide was high and the sets became larger by the minute. The bigger, the better, Tate thought to herself as she settled down on her stomach, paddling towards a wave that was beginning to break.

With steady balance, she rose to her feet, sharply turning her board to parallel with the crest of the wave. Tate gripped the nose of her board as she crouched down and rode the wave until it died; she hardly ever fell off, save for stormy weather sessions, a skill that was hard-earned from years of working at her craft.

But mind the word "hardly."

A board with no surfer came flying towards Tate without warning. Before she could react, the side of the nose slammed into her chest, knocking her off of her own. Everything became dully muffled as her body was thrown underwater. The surprise attack left Tate in a daze, unable to react to the situation, and the constant swell of the waves pushing her around like clothes in a washing machine made it even harder. Just as she somewhat came to her senses, a particularly large wave shoved her deeper underneath the water. Tate's cheek was jerked onto a rock, leaving a large gash on her face that she felt instantly. The shock of the pain and her disoriented state left her helpless near the ocean floor.

This is it, she thought. This is how I'm gonna die. Of all things, I get taken out by a surfboard while surfing. How ironic.

Tate's brain was in a muddled state, and it still was as frantic hands grabbed her arms, voices muttered "Oh, shit, oh shit!" as they dragged her to the surface, and laid her on the soft sand. Tate felt the grains stick to her limp fingers as she struggled to breathe, her body not responding to the orders her brain was giving it. 

"Oh, God, what are we gonna do?" 

"Call an ambulance, you dipshit!" another voice snapped.

"What if she dies before they get here? Pope, do you know what to do? Don't we have to give her mouth to mouth or something?"

Another boy joined the conversation, evidently calmer than the other two. "Leave her like that, so she doesn't choke, 'cause there's probably water in her lungs. Now I think I gotta open her airway or whatever it's called."

"I can't believe this. I literally killed someone. I'm gonna go to jail--"

"JJ, shut up," the same exasperated voice huffed. 

Tate felt warm hands gently touch her jaw and open her mouth, pushing her head back. As soon as oxygen had more access to her lungs, she shot up and knocked her head with someone else's in the process. She gasped, wildly hacking up water and nearly facedown on the sand. 

Tate heaved for what seemed like hours, and when her breath finally slowed, she turned to the three boys that surrounded her. The first one that caught her gaze was the boy closest to her, one with dark skin, his brows knit with concern.