11
Jameson
I tap my fingers on the dashboard of my Jeep Wrangler, looking at the time. It’s 9:55 am, and I’m sitting at a remote nook of Redemption Beach, waiting for Emma. Today is our first real surf lesson, or at least our first one on the beach.
We’re supposed to meet at ten. Then again, she might be defiant and show up late, knowing that I can’t say anything.
I grit my teeth. Why am I doing this, again?
I look out at the beach in question, which is deserted. With a rocky sand bar located not too far from the shore, this section of beach is often empty. People are afraid that they’ll get caught in rip tides and get dragged along those rocks. Fair enough.
But it’s totally fine for my purposes, being that we’ll hardly get in the water today. I glance at the clock on the dash again,
