Summary: Jasper left Texas to run from his past. Months later, preparing for his first surf tournament, can he dig deep enough inside himself to restore his soul?

This happens approximately six months after Jasper leaves Galveston wit h Emmett in Changes in Latitude. It just seemed like tacking it on the end here made the most sense.

Soul Surfer

~SS~SS~SS~SS~SS~

Spluttering, I staggered to my feet, spitting out the mouthful of saltwater I'd swallowed when the pipe collapsed on top of me. Thankful for my leash, I dragged my board closer, then waited on the shore for Emmett to ride in. Frustrated, I planted my board, before raking my hand through my hair. I'd been surfing for almost as long as I'd been able to walk. Why the hell couldn't I beat these fucking waves?

I spotted Emmett when he popped to his feet. Easily the biggest guy on a board, he wasn't hard to miss. Not for the first time, I admired the clean lines he cut through the water, envying the ease with which he took control of the wave. Riding the crest, he pulled several high turns off the top of the wave, before turning out a couple feet from the shore. His booming voice carried over the waves when he noticed me standing in the eddying currents at the edge of the ocean.

"C'mon Jas! Don't tell me your pussing out already? Dude, get your ass back out here." His wide affable grin toned down the sting in his words.

"Yeah, fuck you, McCarty! I've swallowed enough salt water for one day."

Jogging through the waves, he joined me on the shore. "What's up, dude? You're doing great."

"Great?' I snorted. "I'm pretty sure three wipeouts on three fucking successive waves is far from great. This is a bad idea. There's no way in hell I can compete on a national level. I'm just a nobody surfer from Galveston. These guys have done the big shit like Australia and Hawaii. The ripples in the Gulf of Mexico can't begin to compare to that."

"You don't give yourself enough credit." He bumped his elbow into my shoulder. "Stick with it, bro, you can totally handle this."

Shaking my head, I disagreed. "I don't know, man. Maybe I'm not cut out to do this, and I don't want to drag you down, too. I'll just head back to the house; grab a bite to eat or something."

"No way. I told you if you came with me, I'd be there for you one hundred percent. Well, you're here and you're stuck with me now."

He paused, the look on his face clear that the gear in his head were turning. The guy was a hell of a lot smarter than people gave him credit for. Shortly after arriving with Emmett in Coronado, I realized most of his friends treated him like he was an idiot. While he might pull the occasional boneheaded move, overall his biggest flaw was the fact that he had a heart of gold. He'd do anything for a friend; the guys he hung with knew it and took full advantage of it.

Emmett McCarty had money. A lot of money. Both his parents had died when he was just a kid. They'd both been professionals with solid six figure incomes, plenty of insurance, and a couple of houses – including the one we were staying in. His aunt and uncle had invested his inheritance wisely, setting up several trust funds that ensured Emmett would never have to work a day in his life if he didn't want to. Thus far, he'd opted to indulge himself, bouncing around the country, not really settling into anything.

At times I felt like I'd become Emmett's pet project: Operation Save Jasper. He hadn't realized: it's too late. You can't save someone from themself. I don't regret making the decision to leave Galveston, though. I needed to find out who I am. I've been a son, a brother, a boyfriend, a husband. My whole life had been spent trying to be who everyone else wanted or thought I should be. Was surfing just one more part of that? Was I considering the tournament for all the wrong reasons? Emmett insisted I had the talent, but did I enter just to make him happy? My inner musings were interrupted when Emmett jabbed me in the arm.

"I've got an idea." I rolled my eyes. That line was how I'd ended up in Coronado to begin with. "Stuff it, Whitlock. Go grab something to eat and I'll meet you there in a little bit. I need to check on a few things."

Starving and not willing to argue with him, I grabbed my gear and trudged back up the beach to the cottage where we were staying. I slipped my boards in the slats under the deck, before turning on the outdoor shower. Stripping out of my board shorts and skin, I hung them over the top of the surround, then moved under the steaming spray. I stood under the pulsing water, letting it beat down on my neck and back, hoping it would help with the tension that knotted my muscles. Bracing my hands on the roughhewn wood wall, I let my head drop forward, my hair falling in my eyes. I hadn't cut it in months; it had grown several inches and I couldn't be fucked to trim it up. Watching the water dripping off the drenched strands, I willed myself to relax. I could do this, I knew I could; I just needed to settle the fuck down and get my head in the right damn place. Yeah, 'cause I've done such a good damn job of that so far. I shook my head to clear out the errant thoughts, jumping when a fist pounded on the wall of the shower enclosure.

"Jas, dude, hurry the fuck up!" Emmett's voice boomed, overpowering the early morning stillness.

"Yeah, yeah. Give me five minutes."

"Don't forget a towel, too. That bimbo Tony brought home is wandering around inside," he warned, before slapping the door again and walking away.

Grumbling to myself, I rushed through the rest of my shower. Opening the door, I checked to make sure no one was around then stepped out to pull a towel out of the cabinet next to the enclosure. I secured it around my waist, then grabbed my gear and headed inside. Making a beeline to my room, I shut and locked the door. Emmett's friends weren't real damn discreet in their selection of fuck buddies and I'd already, on more than one occasion, woken up to one of their skanks crawling into my bed. Definitely not a road I wanted to go down, most especially not with those chicks.

Dragging on dry board shorts and a hoodie, I padded out to the kitchen to scrounge something to eat. I'd taken to buying groceries, since Emmett wouldn't let me give him anything for staying with him, even though I had more than enough money to help. Out of some misplaced sense of obligation, or guilt, my parents continued to drop a chunk of cash in my account every month, using my direct deposit information from when I'd worked for my father. I used only what I absolutely needed, though, and I planned to keep it that way. If I could make it through the preliminaries and get on the tour, I hoped I could pull in enough to live on.

I rummaged behind the dozens of beer bottles to find the eggs I knew were in the refrigerator. Grabbing the carton, a pack of ham, and some cheese, I set it next to the stove, then dug out a frying pan. I rarely had to worry about not finding something to eat since I'd started buying groceries. If it couldn't go in the microwave or it required any kind of prep, the other yahoos living at Emmett's couldn't be bothered to touch it.

Setting my iPod to shuffle, I stuck in my earbuds and put it back in my pocket. I chopped, shredded, and mixed everything I needed, then built myself a decent omelet. Turning to drop some bread in the toaster, I saw Emmett walking through from the living room. With a sigh, I prepped the stuff for a second omelet, dropping it all in the pan when the first finished. Without a word, I handed the plate to Emmett and gestured toward the toaster. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him butter the two pieces then drop two more in. Pulling out an earbud so I could hear, I thanked him.

"No problem, bro. You didn't have to cook for me, but I appreciate it. McDonalds sucks compared to this," he replied, shoving a forkful of eggs in his mouth.

"I can't cook a lot, but I can manage a few basics. Besides, you gave me a place to crash; I owe you." I waved the spatula toward the hallway. "Those guys are on their own, though."

"Nah, it's cool. They can manage; we did before you got here. Can you be ready to go in about thirty minutes? I got something I want to show you." He buttered my toast while he talked; dropping it onto my plate next to the omelet I'd just flipped out of the pan.

"Yeah, I can do that. Where are we going?"

"You'll see when we get there. Make sure you grab your boards and gear and put them in the Jeep." He stuffed the last bite of toast in his mouth, then loaded the plate in the dishwasher. "Thanks again, Jas. I'll see you out front in a few."

I nodded and put my earbud back in, before picking up my fork. Leaning my ass against the counter, I ate standing up. When I finished, I cleaned up my mess, then headed back to my room to grab a clean skin and slide on a pair of Airwalks. I passed Tony's one-nighter in the hall, clad only in a pair of boxers and a see through wife-beater, and I inwardly cringed at the sight. While I didn't have an issue with tats or piercings, the chick was downright scary. Her ink was bad, obviously done by some jerk who thought just because he could afford a machine he should call himself an artist. Her face was a mess of metal, with a few implants dotting her skin, too. Overall, I found all of it a turn-off. Then again, little appealed to me anymore, not even my right hand.

I locked my door when I left, dropping the key in my bag along with my other shit. Stepping out the sliding doors on the back of the house, I dragged both my boards out from under the deck and carried them out front to Emmett's jeep. I dumped my stuff in the back, then went back inside. Finding a small cooler, I threw in a few bottles of water and some fruit. I'd been on a couple of excursions with Emmett already; I knew enough to be prepared in case we ended up someplace I couldn't get a snack of some sort. Picking it up, I headed back outside and stowed it behind the passenger's seat. Emmett walked out right after, asking if I was ready to go. Nodding, I pulled myself up in the passenger's seat, wondering what the hell he had planned.

Pulling out on the beach road, he started driving north. Taking a few side turns, he veered off into a more secluded area, the older, weathered houses set further apart, separated by tracts of trees and undergrowth. Reaching a dead-end, he put the jeep in park, unlocked a wire fence, then drove off road, following a barely visibly path that wound ever closer to the ocean. The tree line broke suddenly, revealing a pristine stretch of beach surrounded by untamed trees and foliage. An extra slice of paradise in a place many people already considered near-perfect.

Awestruck, I stared wide-eyed at the surf pounding the glistening sand. The sun reflected off the silica, making it glitter and dance against the dark blue water. There wasn't another soul in sight; the beach devoid of any signs of having been touched by mankind. Reaching up, I grabbed the rollbar and pulled myself out of the jeep. I walked to where the waving grasses gave way to the sand, pausing to watch the sets rolling in. A sound behind me drew my attention back to Emmett leaning against the front bumper.

"Dude, this – this is fucking amazing!" I shook my head in wonder. "We can surf here?"

"Sure can." He nodded, punctuating his words. "It's private, belongs to a guy that my dad had been friends with." A flicker of sadness glossed his eyes, before he shook it off. "I thought it might help if you had someplace less crowded than the main beach."

I looked back at the rolling waves. "I don't know what to say, Em."

"Don't say anything; grab your boards." His muffled words carried out from where he rifled around in the backseat.

Unwilling to look away, I backpedaled to the jeep to grab my stuff, then followed Emmett out to the shoreline. I dropped my gear a few feet back from the tideline and kicked off my shoes, before walking down into the surf. The frothy brine swirled around my ankles, the water still cold from the late winter chill. Once I reached hip deep water, I threw my hands up and dove into an oncoming wave. Surfacing on the other side, I shook my head, droplets of water spraying around me to create rippling circles. I turned back to face the shore, surprised to see Emmett just sitting on the sand next to my stuff. His knees were bent, elbows resting on top and his hands hanging down, while he stared off at the horizon.

Swimming back in, I staggered up the sand, hitching up my board shorts when they slipped off my hips. Since hitting Coronado, I'd been surfing almost every day and averaged a five mile run every morning. While I'd gained back most of the weight I'd lost in the weeks after the accident, I knew the built up muscle tone accounted for it. Most of my pants still didn't fit for shit, but my T-shirts had all become tighter across my chest and arms. I'd seen the appreciative looks when I went out anywhere, but I never let it go any further. Once bitten, twice shy didn't begin to cover it. Women, dating, relationships – all roads I had no intention of travelling. I'd never give anyone that kind of power to hurt me ever again.

I dropped down next to Emmett, bumping him with my shoulder. "You going in? You didn't grab your boards."

"Nah, not right now." His nose crinkled, his eyes hidden behind his shades while he squinted into the sun. "This is for you, bro." He dangled a keychain in front of me. "I'll draw out the directions for you later at the house so you can come back whenever you want. You got your phone?"

"Yeah, it's in my bag." I watched while he pushed himself to his feet and brushed the sand off his hands. "Wait, where are you going?"

"Call me when you're ready for me to come get you. No one's going to bother you here, Jas." He paused, adjusting his sunglasses before he continued, "Look, I haven't known you long, bro, but I know this much –," he gestured toward the water, "this is where you're gonna find your peace. So, go find it. Remember why you surf, not how you surf."

I held up my hand to give him a high five before he left, but he surprised me by grabbing it and hauling me to my feet. Resting his hand on my shoulder, he stared down at me.

"Dude, I've never pushed you about whatever the hell happened in Texas that has you running with your tail between your legs. I never will; I promised you that. But," he jabbed a finger into my chest, "you need to at least remember who you are. Now, I'll see you in a few hours, then we're hitting Clancy's, and you're buying."

"Fair enough," I replied. Emmett nodded and started walking away until I yelled after him, "Hey, and Em?" He looked back over his shoulder. "Thanks, man." He waved me off, looking pointedly between me, my boards, and the surf, then took off jogging back to the jeep. I watched him pull out of sight, still not knowing why fate decided to drop him into my life, but damn grateful it had happened.

~SS~SS~SS~SS~SS~

Every morning, I headed out to the beach, my cooler packed with food and my coffee in hand. I spent the quiet minutes before sunrise sitting on the shore, my feet buried in the cold, damp sand, while I watched the sun make its slow ascent over the horizon. My dark hoodie had faded to a washed out bluish-grey, but it still kept me warm against the cool breezes that blew in from off the water. With only the waves and the cawing gulls to break the noise, I willed myself to be still and focus.

It'd been almost a month since the first time Emmett had driven me out to that solitary strip of beach. In that time, I'd missed the sunrise once, and then only because a storm had blown in, dropping a deluge on the coast. I'd ended up more restless and unsettled than usual that day. Like Emmett promised, though, no one bothered me, giving me the freedom to fail or succeed without an audience. Sipping from the insulated mug in my hand, I reflected on the last few weeks.

While I'd finally mastered the waves and was able to complete successive runs under all types of surf conditions with competence, I still hadn't figured out how to center my thoughts and emotions. The turmoil caused me to second guess my decisions, destroying the fluidity I'd had in the past. I couldn't figure out how to shut my brain off long enough to feel what the waves were telling me. With a sigh, I planted my cup in the sand next to my stuff, before standing and unzipping my hoodie. I let it fall onto my bag, then pulled on a skin, knowing I'd be stripping it off once the sun had fully risen. Settled, I grabbed my longboard and hit the waves again.

Duck diving under the first swell, I paddled out past the breakers to calmer waters. Pushing myself upright, I straddled my board and closed my eyes, inhaling deep breaths of the salty air. Releasing the steel grip I'd had on the board, I let my fingers trail in the water to sense the shifts in the current. The rolling swells lifted the board, rocking it in an easy rhythm that I tried to surrender myself to. Forcing myself to take slow even breaths, I fought to clear my mind of everything but the sun, the water, and my board. An unusual shift in the current followed by a light splash had me opening my eyes to see what had caused it.

A pod of dolphins, six in all, were frolicking about a hundred feet away from where I sat. I watched them while they breached the water, cavorting around each other like children on a playground. The solitude of the small beachfront seemed to resonate with their conversation, the chirps and chatters carrying over the waves. I enjoyed their antics, amused by the little show they unknowingly performed for me. It wasn't until one of the others broke away from the pod to circle back that I noticed a seventh dolphin that had lagged behind the others. Intrigued, I watched while each member of the pod took a turn back, nudging the lagging one a little closer to the rest of the pod on each pass. When the animal would start to fall back again, they others systematically worked to herd him back into the group. Just like Emmett, I thought. He refuses to leave me behind, too.

I shook my head at the revelation. In ways that none of my lifelong friends had done, Emmett had been there for me. Without question, he'd picked me up when I had sunk so low I couldn't go on; he'd forced me to take another step, to make it through one more day. When he realized I needed to get away, he gave me someplace to run. In every definition of the word, Emmett wasn't just my friend, he'd become my family.

Blankly staring off into the distance, I was jarred from my thoughts by the feel of something nudging my ankle. Dashing the tears I hadn't realized were spilling from my eyes, I nervously peered into the navy blue depths under my board. Surfing alone was a boneheaded move, any surfer knew it. Hell, it's one of the first things I'd ever learned. The potential for an accident or a shark attack always loomed, no matter how careful someone was, but I'd desperately needed the privacy. Emmett recognized my need and accommodated it, with one exception. I had to check in every few hours. He swore if he didn't hear from me, he'd be at the beach faster than I'd be able to blink. If something did happen, I wondered if I'd be able to make it to the beach to call for help.

Cautiously, trying not to move my feet and attract any unwanted attention, I leaned over my board for a clearer look. Another nudge against my foot was followed by a dorsal fin surfacing a half yard or so away. It suddenly disappeared, only to be replaced by the flick of a tail. One of the dolphins. Casting my eyes toward the pod, still just a few hundred feet away, I tried to count how many were there. The sight of my nudger slicing through the water caught my eye, pulling my focus toward the approaching animal. I watched it slide under my foot, noticing the long scars that raked across its back. When it rolled under my board, I realized why it moved slower than the others. Its left flipper had been badly damaged, a huge chunk missing from the base, while the rest had several healed slashes across it.

The animal surfaced in front of me, the water exploding from the force of its jump, its body forming a clean arc before it re-entered. Even broken, it was still beautiful, still graceful. Despite all that life had dealt it, the dolphin still tried. Questioning my sanity, but knowing a shark wouldn't be anywhere near the area if dolphins were around, I unfastened my leash and slid into the water, my arm wrapped across my board. I extended my arm, allowing my other hand to free float on the rippling swells.

And I waited.

The quiet reflection that dominated my life served me well. My patience was eventually rewarded by the feel of slippery skin sliding against my fingers. The dolphin surfaced again a few feet away, then bobbed on the waves, almost appearing to be watching me. Deep, thoughtful eyes stared back at me, the hidden strength whispering to my soul. Fight to survive; you can do it.

In the blink of an eye, it was gone, the cleaving dorsal fin that raced away the only real clue that I'd seen what I thought I had. Intently, I watched the pod move away, wondering if, after all that had happened, I'd finally lost my mind. A plaintive whistle filled the air, followed by my nudger breaking the surface one last time. It disappeared into an approaching set, one of the best I'd seen since I'd started visiting the beach. Quickly pulling myself back onto my board, I refastened my leash. Letting the first wave pass, I took off paddling in time to catch the second one. The lift of the wave underneath the board signaled for me to stand. Popping into my stance, I let go of everything that had haunted my mind, focusing instead on the memory of the unblinking black eye. By the time I rode the wave to completion, I knew I'd rediscovered what had been missing. For the first time since the accident, I wanted to live.

Stepping off the board in the shallows, I reached down to grab it when I heard the sound of applause ringing out across the beach. I shoved my hair out of my eyes and looked up to see Emmett hovering a few feet away.

"Fucking beautiful, bro!"

His booming voice carried to me on the wind, reinforcing the feeling of satisfaction that had settled around my heart. I'd once again found acceptance on the water, the only place I'd ever felt whole.

~SS~SS~SS~SS~SS~

Songlist:

Violin by Amos Lee

Fall to Pieces by Velvet Revolver

Broken by Lifehouse

It Will Rain by Bruno Mars

Remember by Five Finger Death Punch

November Rain by Guns N' Roses

Wish You Were Here by Pink Floyd

Exit Wounds, Nothing, & Long Gone and Moved on by The Script

Thank you so much to everyone who is patiently continuing Surfsper's journey with him. I have been incredibly busy working on a new original short story, due to release on June 19th, so I have been an absolute fail on updates. Yet again, though, you, my faithful readers have shown how much you love him by once again nominating him for best Jasper in the Wordsmith Awards. I'm so incredibly humbled and touched. More of current time Surfsper and Bella is on the horizon, so please keep your eyes peeled. I promise, it will be worth the wait.