I arrived at the surf shop half an hour later with a coffee in one hand and a breakfast bagel in the other. I unlocked the door, flipped the lights on, and woke the computer up to check for any important emails.
“Hey, bud,” Carter, one of the summer workers called from the door. Carter was in his early twenties, had shoulder length shaggy hair, and moved to Queen’s Cove for the summer to surf and party. He was a pretty good surfer, actually, and taught the beginner lessons.
“Hey,” I called back, clicking through emails, deleting junk mail, flagging a few to deal with later. My gaze snagged on one, though, and my gut twisted hard.
Pacific Rim Worlds caught my eye.
The Pacific Rim World Competition was a surf competition held yearly in Queen’s Cove. It was a qualifier level, which meant
