On The Rocks

But his words also settled like a pit in my stomach. He knew all about the ways in which I struggled the few years prior with the concept of love and the crazy things you might or might not do for it.

You see, there was a time I fashioned myself in love with his younger sister, Sasha. After John and I had become friends, he introduced me to her at a competition one day, and I fell hard. She was beautiful, smart, and she surfed. Sasha was amazingly good, competing in the junior pros and finally the women’s pro tour. She traveled the world with John and me to the various competitions, at first being a good friend and supporter to me, and then she became my lover.

I thought that my life was perfect, and I couldn’t imagine wanting anything different. Sasha and I seemed perfect for each other. We had the same career paths, we loved traveling the world together, and we burned it up between the sheets. But then Sasha took a bad spill during a practice session and dislocated her knee. It was a career-ending injury, as she was never able to make it back onto the tour.

While having something like that happen may have devastated me… having my dreams and goals crushed beyond my control, Sasha didn’t seem to mind giving up the competition. Instead, she happily followed John and me around, always being the loudest to cheer me on, and warming my bed by night. To me… life was still perfect.

Then things started to change. Sasha got tired of life on the road, and of sleeping in a different hotel every week. She started wanting to spend more time back home in Southern California and would get angry at me for needing to be on the road so much. Her travels with John and me became less and less, and the times I spent with her in California became filled with fights and tension.

I’m not sure exactly what happened, but things between us started to fall apart. It all came to a head a year ago when Sasha told me she was unhappy, and she wanted me to quit surfing. She wanted me to move to California, marry her, and give her children.

We had talked about marriage some, and it had been more or less understood that we would, indeed, get married one day. But I sure as hell wasn’t ready for it when she demanded it, and there was no way in hell I was ready to give up my career.

My refusal to meet her demands was our demise, and we had a bitter split. John walked the fence between us, understanding both of our positions. He did the best he could to be a loyal older brother and continue to be my friend. He never once let Sasha’s bitterness or my hurt mar the friendship. John was just golden that way.

When I told John that I was giving it all up to move home for my brother, I remember him whistling low through his teeth. “Sasha’s going to go apeshit when she hears that, dude.”

I nodded, because I figured as much. Here I was… walking away at the height of my career because my felon twin was getting out of prison, but I wouldn’t give it up for her. I knew she wouldn’t be happy about that. I never did ask how she took the news when John told her. I figured I was better off not knowing.

“So,” John leads in, breaking into my thoughts. “I’m skipping the Billabong Rio Pro this month. My fucking back is acting up again. Thought I’d come visit you and check out this bar of yours.”

Laughing, I tell him, “That would be awesome, man. I’d love to see you. When you coming in?”

“I’m going to go home and visit the ‘rents for a bit. I was thinking the week after next?”

“That would be great, John. I’m really glad.”

We talk on the phone for a bit longer, although he carefully stays away from the subject of Sasha. Which is fine by me… my thoughts are too preoccupied with Gabby and her wily ways. I’m trying to figure out my battle plan with her, because this is a war I intend to win.

And Gabby’s the grand prize.





I’m a moron… and a brat.