The water temperature was mild, not too cold, and completely refreshing in comparison to the heat of the sun.
The waves were kicking, swells about shoulder high, cresting into beautiful semi-transparent barrels. The pipes were magical, a tunnel of crystalline aqua, with salt spray misting on Drew’s skin. Inside the waves, the world went silent. Drew forgot about Shawn and everything else as his muscles steered his board into pure bliss.
Drew came out of the water, starving. He swiped a cup of Gatorade and a Cliff bar from the freebies table as he walked by. Roger would probably grab some real food for Drew later—forgetting to eat during a competition was one of Drew’s bad habits. A passing glance at the dry-erase score board in front of the officials’ booth told Drew he had won. In fact,
