Edge of the Surf [wlw]

day two

The sea crashing over the rocks below our cottage wakes me up. Immediately, I jump out of bed, yanking a hoodie over my head and pulling swimming shorts on. The surf, Jess, and the beach awaits.

"Guys!" I yell as I jog downstairs.

Ry is already at the table, his head resting on the dull wood as he plays with his toast.

"No surfing today, bro," he says, mournfully.

"Why?" I ask, my smile dimming slightly.

"Look outside." I walk to the window, and glance outside to see the waves shuddering against the pier, sending showers of spray into the air.

Slumping into the chair beside him, I steal a piece of toast from his plate, my movements lazy.

Aurelia is next to flop into one of the chairs, rubbing her tired eyes with a yawn.

"Why did you wake me up?" She groans, glaring at me.

"I wanted to surf," I mutter. "I thought you said the weather forecast was good this week."

"It was, but you know they're always wrong," she tells me. Her hair hangs around her face in loose tangles, her expression still dazed with sleep.

We sit in silence for a few moments, staring sleepily into nothing. Cora interrupts our dreaming, crashing loudly downstairs.

"I know about the weather," she starts, interrupting Ry, who had opened his mouth to rain on her parade. "It doesn't mean we can't do something. I don't want to sit around here all day."

I sigh, already resigned to a day of reading, with warm coffees and afternoon naps. My eyes drift to the window, watching the wind play with the blue-grey sea.

"Do you have your camera on you, Charlie?" I nod, slowly, my attention drifting back to Cora. "We could climb up to C. Point; I bet you'll get some good photos of the waves on the rocks from there."

"That's not a bad idea," Aurelia agrees, her face brightening. Ryan rolls his eyes, but concedes quickly that it's probably our best option.

I change into a pair of jogging bottoms, fully set on having a lazy afternoon on the sofa, and pull my spray jacket over the top of my hoodie. My camera is already in its waterproof bag, so it should survive some sea-spray.

Before long, we are out of the cottage and on our way up the C. Point footpath, already eager to be back in the warmth. We agree on pub lunch in town, as a reward for our efforts, and try to enjoy the cool wind blasting our skin.

I stuff my hands into my pockets, and Aurelia slips her hand through the loop in my arm, huddling against me.

Clouds blanket the sky, the sun offering no relief from the relentless cold of the wind. To Cora's credit, I do take some stunning photos; of her hair flying across her face, and Ry holding onto his beanie so it doesn't fly off his head. The waves send slivers of silver, five; seven; ten metres into the air, casting shimmers across the rocks far below.

"The top is in sight!" Ry yells, running now, Cora's hand clutching his jacket sleeve. Aurelia laughs and follows them, dragging me behind her. I raise my camera to eye-level and capture another shot, enjoying the carefree smiles on my friends faces.

A figure appears in the corner of my photo, her sun-bleached blonde hair ruffled by the onslaught of the weather, her blue eyes reflecting the soft grey of the sky.

I swallow, slipping my camera back into its case and walking slowly to where Aurelia is stood, beside the trigpoint overlooking the view of the ocean. She smiles at me, her eyes warm, and I rest an arm on her shoulders.