A sharp blast of five quick individual whistles followed by one long one signaled the start of the regatta. Adrenaline races through my system as the jibsheets flew through my hands. I threw myself up on the same side as my skipper, Zach, yanked on the jibsheet to pull the sail in a few more inches, then began to hike. I let one of my hands drag in the water, the cool substance flowing seamlessly over them and creating its own wake. I sharp tack threw me over to the other side, my instincts took over. The bow dipped underneath the waves for a second, then came bobbing back up, dousing me in cold water, droplets fell from the brim of my hat. Only a few more seconds until we crossed the finish line.
5...
4...
3...
2...
1...
A clap of thunder broke my trance, and I refocused on the beginning students, sailing around a course of buoys. I grabbed my whistle and brought it to lips. A long blast came from behind me, scaring me half to death. Zach waved at me from his seat behind me on the coach boat, his sandy hair sticking out from underneath his hat, his eyes hidden behind polarized sunglasses, and his hand resting on the motor of the skiff.
"Everybody in!" I called to beginning students, just as another clap of thunder resounded across the water.
YOU ARE READING
Cliffhangers
Short StoryThis is a book of just the beginnings of stories that I have scribbled down in notebooks, and spare pieces of paper. Most of them will be cliffhangers, and I will not be doing continuations of any of the chapters, so do not ask. You have been warned.
