Kook - Chris Vick

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seconds. Then you came up, and then you were down another ten. It feels like everything, but it’s nothing. It helps if you count when you’re down.”

      “Count what?”

      “Count the seconds. If you know what you can do on land, you know you can do it in water. It helps keep the fear off. Ten seconds down there can seem a lot longer than it is. If you surf, you get used to hold-downs.” Jade put the roll-up in her mouth and lit it, checking my face to see if I got what she was saying. “You get to like it.”

      “Like… it…?” I said slowly. I’d liked it afterwards, sure. I’d felt good. But at the time?

      “It was scary, right?” she said. “But you came out the other side. Didn’t it feel good?” She was calm now, focused.

      “I don’t know,” I said. It was the truth. I didn’t know what I’d felt. Scared? Freaked out? Thrilled? Battered? All those things. But mostly just really alive. And I felt good I’d had a go. If she’d had to get in and rescue that dog, Jade would have been disgusted with me. Instead, here we were, talking about my adventure. And I liked her looking at me the way she did, legs crossed, smoking her roll-up, staring coolly, like she couldn’t quite make me out.

      “Next time hold your breath,” she said.

      “Next time? You’re funny.”

      “I practise in the bath.” She reached out, took the cup off me, drank some vodka, then gave it back. I imagined Jade in the bath. Then tried to shake the idea away before I went red. Or got a boner. “I hold my nose and count, put my head under and see how long I can do. It’s not the same, but it helps train for hold-downs. You were brave. Tell Tegan. She’ll be dead proud of you.”

      I had my reasons not to. I had my reasons not to tell Teg or Mum that I’d nearly drowned. Good ones. They’d have freaked.

      “…and I didn’t know you couldn’t swim,” she added.

      “I can swim!”

      “Not really.” She squeezed the white cold flesh of my shoulder with her warm fingers. “See. Weak as shit. It was stupid of you to go in. But cool. Maybe you’ve got potential, even if you are a kook.”

      Potential for what, I thought.

      *

      I went home once my clothes were dry. I made excuses about needing to do homework, and went and lay on my bed, watching clouds through the skylight.

      Thinking.

      My dad had drowned. And I wasn’t much of a swimmer. I had plenty reason not to get in the water.

      But that kind of pissed me off. You shouldn’t always run away from things, should you? Sometimes, the things you are afraid of are the things you need to face up to.

      I liked how I’d rescued the dog, and I’d liked lying in the den talking to Jade about it. But I hadn’t liked looking weak, like I’d almost needed rescuing.

      Jade didn’t need to face up to anything. She had no fear of the water. She loved it. She loved surfing. She was happy to let it rule her life.

      And I liked Jade. I liked her a lot.

      I lay there a good hour, just thinking about what had happened.

      About Jade. About surfing.

      

      I GOT SKIP by himself, at school, by the water fountain.

      “All right?” he said, wiping water off his lip, ready to bounce off somewhere.

      “Can I ask you something?”

      He put his bag on the floor and leant against the wall. “What’s up?”

      “I want to surf.”

      “Is that all? Jesus, you looked so serious. But you? Surf?” He shook his head. “You sure that’s a good idea after the other day? No offence, dude, but you were a real kook in the water.”

      “Will you teach me?”

      “There’s surf schools for that,” he said, laughing.

      “I don’t want to wait till next summer…”

      “They do stuff at weekends. You get to wear a yellow rashie, with ‘surf school’ on it. Might as well be an L-plate. You’ll stand out from the ten-year-olds.” He picked up his bag and started to walk away.

      “Is that how you learnt?” I shouted after him. He turned. Suddenly it wasn’t a joke.

      “No, I just did it. Got in, kept at it till I rode green waves. Straight up? It’s the only way. Even if you get a lesson or two, to start you off, then you got to go at it full on, for a long time.”

      “Right, but you could help me?”

      He came back, and spoke slowly, so I’d understand. “Me? Like I get enough hours in the water and I’m going to waste time teaching a kook. And anyway…”

      “There’s only one teacher,” said a voice from behind me. Big G put a hand on my shoulder.

      Shit, I thought, he must have heard it all.

      “You. Surf. Why?” he glared at me.

      “You need to ask, if you love it so much?” I said, giving him back a little of what he dished out. His eyes narrowed.

      “I can guess. You won’t get anywhere. You’re wasting your time,” he said. He leant down, took a long drink from the fountain, then walked off.

      “I live here. Why shouldn’t I surf?” I said to Skip.

      “He was talking about Jade. That’s what he meant when he said you won’t get anywhere.”

      “Oh. That’s… it’s… that’s not why,” I stammered, feeling hot in the face.

      “Some have had a go, you know,” he said. He rolled his eyes when he saw my shock. “I don’t mean been there. I mean Rag tried it on with her, and G. Maybe he did more than try… She doesn’t seem that interested. Maybe she’s into girls. That’s what Rag reckons.”

      I was burning up wanting to ask about that. But I didn’t.

      “I just want to learn to surf,” I said, casual as I could.

      “Whatever.” He picked up his bag, then hesitated. “By the way, how much?”

      “What?”

      “How much were you going to pay me? To teach you.”

      “Nothing. I just thought…”

      “Shit, you really are a kook,” he said, unable to stop himself smirking. “But thanks, you’re funny. You’ve made my day.” He smiled, winked and walked off.

      *

      I tried my luck with Rag. He got the same bus as Jade and me, but was always almost missing it. So I went to the lockers at the end of the day, knowing he’d be pissing about with books and bags. I wanted to get him alone, but he was talking to two girls.

      “Rag. Have you got a mo?”

      “Shoot.”

      “It’s a bit… Can we talk… alone?”

      “Oh, right, yeah,” he said, nodding, like he already knew what we were going to talk about. “’Scuse us, ladies.” He put his beanie over his mop of curly locks, put his arm round my shoulder and walked me out of the building. He looked over his shoulder a couple of times before he whispered in my ear.

      “I

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