Summer of Seventeen Read Online Free PDF Page A

place you can go that’ll work better than the pier with this onshore breeze.”
    “Sounds good,” Marcus said, “I’ve got a spare you can borrow if you want to come along.”
    “Really? Thanks, man.”
    “No worries,” he said with a smile.
    I stood at the entrance to the den—his room now—while he rummaged in his board bag, then hauled out a nice-looking eight footer.
    “It flexes a bit too much on the bigger waves, but it should work for you now.”
    I ran my hands along the board’s stringer and scuffed up the wax with my fingernails. Yeah, this was a nice board.
    Then I saw that Marcus had a guitar propped up against the wall. I pointed to it with my chin.
    “You play?”
    What a dumb friggin’ question. What did I think he did with it? Play tennis?
    But Marcus just smiled.
    “Yep. Been playing since I was ten. I’m writing some songs, working on a few things. If I can get some money together, I’m going to cut a demo to send off to record companies.”
    I was impressed. I didn’t know anyone who did stuff like that, but I just nodded and tried not to look too interested.
    “Cool.”
    He grinned like he could tell what I was really thinking, then he snatched up his car keys and shut the door behind us.
    Two minutes later we were sitting in his van and Marcus was following my directions to Jetty Park.
    “I thought the entrance was manned by security,” Marcus said curiously.
    “Yeah, but there’s another access road that heads straight down to the shore the other side of the boardwalk. You’re not supposed to drive there, but no one checks at night.”
    “Sounds good.”
    We bumped down the sandy path and he parked on the beach, leaving the headlights on so we had something to aim for, even though we could see windows lit up in the big house on the point and the Shorewood condos in the distance.
    I shivered slightly, but not from cold. The sea was warm, maybe 70 o F, but there was something about the way the endless blackness crawled across my skin.
    I shucked my jeans and t-shirt, and Marcus handed me his longboard. So I paddled out, the ocean moving under me, the spray misting across my face and shoulders as the waves broke gently.
    Two things made me peaceful: being with Yansi and feeling her warm breath on my neck while we held each other; and this, here and now … being rocked by the swell, rising and falling, listening to the waves breaking on the shore behind me. I stared into the night, breathing in the humid, salty air, before turning my board around, feeling a wave rise up, springing to my feet, curving into the clean water at the shoulder, the white foam chasing me, riding until the energy passed through and carried me away.
    We surfed maybe an hour before Marcus called time-out and I caught a wave back to the beach.
    He’d built up a small fire by the time I jogged over to join him. The van was between the road and us, so no one would see the flicker of low flames.
    The sickly sweet smell of weed floated toward me, and I could see the bright embers glowing as he inhaled.
    I plopped down next to him, thirstily eyeing the two six-packs he had lined up as he handed me a can of beer.
    “Happy birthday.”
    “Thanks.”
    He passed me the blunt next, and I thought maybe having Marcus live with us wouldn’t be so bad after all.
    I coughed slightly; it was stronger than I was used to, and it didn’t taste like he’d mixed much tobacco in with it.
    “Good shit,” I wheezed.
    He chuckled quietly. “Yeah, got it from a friend who knows some people south of the border.”
    I took another hit and passed it back to him.
    “So you’re not into birthday cards?” he asked, his voice amused.
    “No, not anymore.”
    He grinned and inhaled deeply.
    “Yeah, they’re evil. I mean, what kind of sicko sends people cards on their birthday?”
    I gave a small laugh and lay back on the warm sand, staring up.
    “What about other cards? You down on them, too?”
    I could hear the mocking humor in