Dawn Patrol

By Mia Soto

Summer has returned to her little island nestled in the Southland and the great mecca home has begun by her group of childhood friends. They know this is probably the last time any of them can count on the steady constant of the hot summer waves and total carefree abandon. Still, the gang have this summer, a few short months, to grasp onto lifetime memories and tuck those away for times ahead when they will need the comfort of those memories. Caught in the cross fires between her childhood friend Stace and the mysterious man who she can't seem to, and doesn't want to, let go, Noor is faced with the hard truth about love. It's never easy. It's her turn to throw caution to the wind and live out her love story, however it ends, in the end.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mia Soto
• Release date: Jul 31, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463067970

Mia Soto

Professional everything but finally coming back to what I love. Look for more all over the genre map and let me know your thoughts!

Book preview

Dawn Patrol

By

Mia Soto

Text copyright

© 2019 Mia Soto

All Rights Reserved

Smashwords Edition

This book contains mature content, language and situations that are not suitable for young readers. It is intended for older teenagers/young adults.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Love is an endless mystery, for it has nothing else to explain it.

Rabindranath Tagore

Chapter 1

Beach fluff all the way!

I heard the call even over the roar of the heavy waves. The night was still clinging to the sky but in the far, far, if you stopped to look close enough, the first streak of the day was creeping into the tapestry. I looked up from my board and smiled at the scraggly group heading my way.

My people. B was leading the group flashing a bright smile that contrasted the deep of his tanned skin. Their worn hoodies stood in stark contrast to the board shorts and bikini tops. In the start of summer, the morning air still held a chill. Really, even in the dead of summer the night brought an unexpected chill, especially after the heat of the day.

L-l-l-loo-look who’s t-talking Malibu Ken. Yeah, I’ve got that stutter. The King’s Speech one. A shit-ton of therapy later, I’m better but probably I won’t ever shake it.

Their smiles were wide and welcoming as boards dropped one by one until all of them lined up on the beach like a sale of worn but loved beach gear. We hugged it out, so happy to be together again. Our hair was flapping the way hair does in the choppy ocean air and we were all silent as wet suits were pulled up and hoodies discarded. My eyes would flash up occasionally to smile as B struggled with his crappy ankle strap and Greta shimmied into board shorts leaving the wet suits to us wimps. Scooby was already in his meditation pose staring with empty eyes toward the dark ocean. Lou was next to me zipping her suit. Then we were ready looking out to the ocean.

He’s coming? Lou asked and I shrugged.

Oh he’s coming, B answered for me. Or I’ll fucking pound him.

We all laughed a little as someone produced a thermos of hot chocolate. It passed from lip to lip like the cup of life. The wind was strong and the wise ear could heard the hard break of the morning waves. Currents would be fierce. Guards were still warm in their beds, no one around to stop us, not that they would stop us anyway. There were some traditions that remained above the law.

Yo!

We all heard the call and turned at the same time to greet Stacey. He looked like he always did, like the nutty professor carrying a mess of crap, dropping things as he struggled to get to the group.

Shit, Stace, you’re late, B complained.

Stacey dropped his board in line with ours and started zipping up, adjusting the prescription glasses on his nose and tightening his croakies. He had decided long ago that surfing with contacts was stupid, having lost many a pair over time. Then he tried surfing without anything but that was dangerous, especially given how blind he was. The final straw had come one warm dusk a few years ago when all of us had hauled ass in as a shark’s fin materialized next to us. He was the only one still sitting there clueless once we reached a comfortable distance and turned around. Our far away screams were his solitary alert to the danger circling him. After that he decided glasses were the only way for him to go.

Yeah, sorry. They had me up late last night. He rubbed his face. He had been the last one to get back home for summer and we had all been antsy to break out the boards, but like I said, some traditions were above the law and not one of us would ever dare break with tradition and take the first wave without the rest of us. Scooby always did a forty day fast prior to our arrival. Parental pride and all. They had the whole damn family there last night. I didn’t get to bed until two.

Cry me a fucking river, Scooby drawled not moving an inch from his meditation. We all laughed and then Scooby jumped up and stared us down. Are we doing this or not? We all nodded. Scooby was our unofficial vicar. He ran the church of us and we kinda let him run the show. It was always entertaining anyway. He did not disappoint. With arms raised up to the dark skies, he turned back to the ocean. Mother Fuckin’ Goddess of Waves! He shouted and we all choked back our laughs. Someone did a spit-take of chocolate milk. Man I’d missed him. From the loins of your great womb come the waves of our future. We all looked at each other with sidelong smirks and outright guffaws. What the hell was he talking about? Let us take to the Mother beast and tame the wild wave. May we shred the great beyond. Surfs up, mother fuckers! He was already trotting as he shouted his, Amen!

Grins abounding, we raised our heads and echoed his amen. Then it was a charge to the sea.

The waves were tough, brutal. I rolled more than I rode that morning but it had been almost a year. By the end of college you didn’t come home that often and even our Christmas surf club hadn’t materialized. I had met my parents in Whistler to celebrate my brother making the Olympic snowboarding team and B had stayed at the dorms to avoid his life and Greta had gone home to Germany and Stacy had already started his day job with the government, whatever that was, because he wouldn’t tell us. Lou was the only one who made it back. Scooby let us all know his thoughts in his most eloquent way. Fucking pussy whipped douchebags. I believe was what he called us.

I flailed up sputtering water for the countless time that morning. My head was spinning from the buckets of water I had inhaled. Just as I was getting my bearing, my board popped up and slammed down hard on my head. Shit, I cried out when I broke the water again. I wished I had followed Greta’s lead and worn board shorts because I was panting and hot in my wetsuit.

You ok? Stacy paddled up and held my board as I weakly climbed onto it.

I think I’m done, I said, speak in word groups, less stutter. I-I-I-I c-c-can’t breathe any more water today.

You can’t leave yet. We just got started. He looked at his watch. Give it fifteen more minutes and I’ll go up with you.

I sighed, ok. Looking across the waves we were all lined up waiting for the next one to ride. Greta, Lou and B were talking and Scooby was out the farthest. He didn’t hang while he was surfing. Surfing was truly his religion and we respected his solitude in those moments.

You look good, Nor, Stace said quietly.

I nodded, y-you-you too. H-h-h-ow was the year?

It was good. Made it, right? A big one looked like it was materializing but it fizzled just as it got to us. Our wait continued as we sat bobbing up and down like buoys.

Yeah, all done. I looked out. Light was finally starting to creep from the edge of the horizon. Onto next.

When do you leave?

August, I swallowed and looked down.

That’s really awesome - that you got in. Do you know where you’re going? He waited patiently as my mouth formed the word that my brain had told it to say seconds ago.

Tokyo. I finally spit out.

Not Germany?

N-no, t-t-the other one was in the Maastricht, n-not Germany.

He had a confused look, oh, that’s not Germany?

No, Stace, th-tha-that’s the Netherlands.

Ohhhh. His head tilted back in understanding.

Sometimes you’re crazy smart…other times, I shrugged playfully.

He laughed softly, well we can’t all be perfect.

The moment grew awkward. That always seemed to happen whenever we got together. The only time we kept it barely normal was when everyone else was around. It was hard to stay the same when one person was in love and the other wasn’t. It was even harder when the one who wasn’t tried to be and failed. I didn’t think he was ever going to get over it. Some mistakes couldn’t be righted. He was about to speak again and I knew where he was going to go with it but a wave started to break.

Th-this one Stace, I called cutting him off. He turned and we both got in position paddling hard. The wave broke and we rode it in flawlessly. Laughing as we fizzle together. One more? Success had a way of fueling the want to try again.

For sure, he agreed already starting his paddle out to the break.

That was awesome, B called to us as we got back out. One more, he said looking out for the next one. It came faster than expected.

Scooby paddled by just as the rest of were reacting to the oncoming wave. All for one, mother fuckers, he yelled.

Stacy gave out a ululating cry. As B shouted, yeah baby.

The wave broke massive and we each took our turn, riding in like a 1950s surf movie. It was a beautiful thing. After, we sat on the beach facing out, enjoying the dawn, passing that thermos of hot chocolate around, shivering. Every now and then someone commented on how awesome it was to be home, how this was the summer of us, how we had to make it great because after this we were headed out.

Some of us had already joined the real world. Scooby never made it past high school. Scooby. Scooby was doing whatever he was doing. Lou was staying the closest having secured a position as a nurse at the local hospital two towns over. Stace was, well we all had our speculation but I liked mine the best. He was Superman and we hadn’t known it all this time. He had graduated in December and had long before that begun working with the government. I wasn’t even sure how he had finagled a summer off. Although, he wasn’t really off, only working from home. Greta had already started her job as lead developer with the Search team at Google. Because it was Google, one of those ‘we’re cool like you kids’ companies, they were letting her work remotely that summer. She’d be leaving for San Fran in September. B was leaving about the same time as me to start med school in Chicago.

The band was breaking up, at least in the short time. That was a hard, bitter pill for all of us to swallow because in spite of the drama, and sometimes hurt feelings, in spite of the mixed up emotions and the too much knowledge about each other and the stickiness that sometimes caused, in spite of it all, we were family, family that had been through thick and thin growing up in our little beach town long after the tourists and summer hounds had left every year. We were the autumn quell, the true blue. We were the real deal and now we were leaving as well.

No one expected anything else. To stay was to commit to the life of spiritual beach fuck up, like Scooby. Maybe he’d make a billion developing his cannabis surf board rub, maybe, the odds were against him, especially since he tended to smoke most of the crops before he could make them into the paste. To leave, at least, maybe someday, we could all come back with our kids and husbands and wives and minivans and maybe get our own house or visit our parents’ homes, maybe.

Well y’all, I drawled. It was the one thing none of us had lost, our accent. I g-g-goa-gotta go. My b-boss is a real d-douche. I looked over at Scooby who looked like he was meditating again but a slow, sly smile spread across his face at my comment. He was my boss in the summer where I worked at his surf shop doing retail and lessons and whatever else kept me busy and out of the house away from David and Barbara, but more on them later.

Bye Noori, Greta sang. She leaned back and took another swig from the mug. Greta tended to sleep during the day and work all night. She was born for her career. There was no way she would ever make it in a nine to five job. She turned hopeful