chasing girl wonder

prologue

All night long, Lisa Manoban kept tossing and turning in her bed. Forcing herself to sleep when it was raining so hard was a far cry from what the rest of the world could be feeling—at least anyone with a decent roof above their heads and a comfortable bed to sleep on. The lucky ones had a hand to hold, a body next to theirs to cuddle, with a lack of worry that their lives could perish because of the weather.

Someone shifted on her side. Oh, hell. Right. A random girl she flirted with at the bar ended up going back to her place with her. What was her name again? Mina? Mona? Whatever.

Her alarm went off. It was almost five in the morning, but the sky was still dark, and the rain did not show any sign of letting up. She grabbed her phone that screamed out a note in all caps: THE DAY YOU FUCKED UP. Shit. How could I forget?!

In a rush, she threw the blanket off her body and grabbed the first wetsuit she could from her closet. Her Doberman, named Love, sat up to watch her clumsy dressing up and hopping on the way to the bathroom. Without turning any lights on, she did it in stride despite several things falling on the floor, feet touching the cold tiled floor, and accidentally hitting her toes on the door frames—grabbing a can of zinc oxide, a scrunchie she would surely lose after her first ride, and a granola bar she had no idea how it ended up in her bathroom countertop.

Love followed her outside, jumping onto the driver's seat and moving to the passenger's seat which he had since claimed to be his. "This passenger prince ass." After checking that her gun-type surfboard was securely latched above the roof of her customized, military Mitsubishi Type 73 Pajero Kogata, she gave her dog a squint of her eye. "No, you're not coming with me, Love. You'll just stop me from doing what I want, err, what I need to do. Get off now."

But the dog was unfazed, staring back at her master and mockingly laying comfortably in his seat.

Lisa sighed exasperatedly and pointed a finger at Love. "Okay, young lad, this is how it's going to go. I'm going to surf like it's the last time I'll ever do it and you're not going to stop me, okay?"

Love only brought his head to the side of the car and started dozing off again.

"I'll take that as a yes. Not today, young lad." Lisa looked up at the dark blue sky. The rain kept pouring. It was the kind of rain that was accompanied by strong winds but was not strong enough to be named a silly name as typhoon. It always rained on that day in September as if the world kept reminding her never to forget what she failed to do to save someone important. "Not today," she repeated in a low voice.

The drive to Jukdo Beach only took about fifteen minutes from her place. No one was around that early in the morning and with that kind of weather, it would be impossible to find anyone near the beach.

She still put zinc on the cheek area underneath her eyes despite the sun not making an appearance that day. There was no typhoon reported, but September was the rainiest season in Korea. Perhaps in her life too. With heavy rain and muggy heat in that month, the unfavorable weather was sympathetic to her personal quest to brave the strongest currents and highest waves of the sea. Another day, another attempt to win against the natural blow of the wind to take water to her reach.

Surfing had been her way of coping with the tragedy of losing someone she loved during a storm in Thailand. Surfing made her feel infinite and more powerful as if she controlled water and commanded it to carry her safely back to the shore. Every time she dove, she called out the name of her sister and held her breath. Every time she resurfaced, she called out the name of her sister and released her breath the way she wished her sister did on that dreadful night.

Amara. Your name actually meant undying. You couldn't have possibly die—. Choking back her tears, Lisa unloaded her white, gun surfboard that bore the name of her late sister in Thai "อมร" near the nose of the board. Soaking under the rain, she watched the waves barreled up to about nine feet high. The wind was blowing against her face, daring her to jump into the water and drown because that was how it was supposed to have been twenty years ago.