There was only one thing that cured a hangover like this. I dragged myself up the stairs and banged on Ches’s door.
I heard a grunt and a shuffling sound, then Ches’s voice.
“What the fuck?”
“Come on, man. We’re going surfing. Get your sorry ass down the stairs now!”
“Are you fucking kidding me, Hunter?”
“No, you miserable fucker! You owe me.”
He moaned and bitched some more, but I banged on the door again and heard Amy cursing under her breath. That got Ches’s ass moving. Yeah, I liked that girl.
My old surfboard and wetsuit lived permanently in Ches’s van, but my board shorts were boxed up with a load of shit in a storage unit. Didn’t matter—I’d do without.
Ches stumbled down the stairs, his hair sticking out at all angles. One advantage of a buzz cut—there’s not enough hair to get that bed-head look.
“You look like crap,” I said cheerfully, feeling slightly superior—probably because I’d had time to drink some water.
He gave me the finger and muttered something that sounded like, “fuckin’ jarhead”.
“Come on, man. I’ll buy you breakfast later. You and Amy.”
He pulled a face. “Sure, if she’s still talking to me. Or you.”
“Hey! What did I do?” I asked, innocently.
“Disturbed her beauty sleep,” he shot back. “She’s an animal if she doesn’t get eight hours—and not in a good way.”
Ches drove us out to La Jolla. I felt a bit guilty when I saw him yawning his ass off; it also occurred to me that he was probably still over the blood–alcohol limit. But once we were paddling out to the lineup, the cold water revived us both, and he was over his sulk.
“Oh man, I haven’t done this for a while,” he said.
“Seriously? We used to surf every damn day.”
“Yeah, but I’ve got school, I work at the country club, and I’ve got Amy. Just don’t get the time anymore. But I’m glad you pulled me out here, brother.”
I grinned at him. “This wave’s got my name on it.”
A wall of green started lifting up behind me. I stroked through the water, and as soon as I felt the board begin to tip forwards, I leapt to my feet and rode that mother almost to the beach, carving along the surface and ripping through the wave.
For the first time in a long time, I felt like I could be me again; not a Marine, not Lance Corporal Hunter. Just me.
After about an hour, Ches called timeout and we caught a wave back into the beach.
“Man, that felt good. Now you owe me breakfast!”
“You want to go back and get Amy?”
“Nah, she hardly ever eats breakfast. It’s a girl thing.”
We dried off using worn out beach towels, and changed into our clothes by the side of the road, not caring if we were seen.
I checked my phone again. Still no messages. Ches glanced over at me.
“Anything?”
I shook my head and stared out of the window, trying to beat back the fear that was beginning to chew at me. Caro, where are you?
“You know, Seb…” Ches began quietly.
“Don’t,” I snapped at him. “She’ll be here. I know it.”
I heard him sigh out a deep breath, but he didn’t speak again.
In silence, Ches drove us to a Burger King and we loaded up on the sausage, egg and cheese biscuit meal. And drank coffee. A lot of coffee.
By the time we got back to his house, Amy was up and dressed, and whipping the remaining party goers into shape. She had two of the guys collecting cans and bottles, and another one emptying ashtrays. Stacey was in the kitchen washing glasses, looking tired but not too hung over.
“Hey! Where’d you guys go?” she called out. “You’ve missed all the cleaning!”
“Surfing,” I said, smiling my ass off. “Anyway, I’m using the it-was-my-birthday so I have a get-out-of-cleaning-free card,” I replied. “But I don’t think Ches has got an excuse—he’d love to help.”
Ches punched me on the shoulder.
“And now he’s broken my arm, so I can’t do anything,” I said, pretending to wince.
“Fucker,” he muttered, under his breath. Amy flung him a look and I winked at him.
Yeah, pussy whipped!
Then we heard a knock at the front door. I was the only one not doing something, so I offered to get it.
I wasn’t expecting the person standing in front of me.
“What the fuck do you want?” I snarled, my good mood vanishing like a virgin on prom night.
An amused face smiled back at me.
“Just wanted to see my son and heir on his birthday,” he sneered the words.
“Yeah? Well you’re about a day late, Dad.”