Surfing on Land

Surfing on Land

They were all united by what had happened. All hurting, for different reasons. They had an unspoken connection, and their time was filled with things they didn't say, things they needed each other to heal from. Time was filled so that they didn't think about it. It was the summer of Logan, Veronica, and Dick, all of them being something like friends.

She picked up surfing quickly, was almost a natural at it. Logan was amazed, and somehow loved her even more for her natural ability. He loved her willingness to try the one thing he loved that had never hurt or deserted him.

Logan watched as Veronica surfed into shore. The tide was coming in, so surfing was at least possible, if not stellar. But she was learning, and it made him a little hard, truthfully, to watch her ride the wave. When she walked out of the water, in her white bikini, carrying the board he'd let her borrow, he kissed her once, briefly, on the forehead; a kiss to show how proud he was of her. "I gotta go, Veronica. I've got that…thing. I'll call you later."

"Aww, just because I'm better than you, you don't have to leave!" she teased. She'd known all along about his…thing. It was a job interview she'd urged him to take. He'd agreed only because he could sense Veronica was going to have a big, amazing life. And Logan really had nothing … nothing but her. And surfing. Plus, a job would give him something else to bicker about. "I'll wait by the phone." She said sarcastically and smiled. She kissed him chastely on the cheek. Then as he walked away, she slapped his cute ass. "For luck!"

At first Dick watched them together. The closeness of their bodies. The familiarity between them. The way they looked at each other. He realized he'd never had that… intimacy with someone. He'd never wanted it. Fuck, why am I thinking about this shit? Who needs intimacy when you've got a hot chick to play with?

Then he just watched her. The way she looked in that white bikini, her hair matted from wind and salt water. She was a natural. The way she moved. "Ronnie's pretty good, Logan. You better watch out or she'll be better than you."

"She's already better than you."

"Very funny. Y'know, man, she's a little hottie. I'd tap that."

"Dick, you'd tap anything with boobs, a pussy, and a pulse."

"Only if she was hot." Dick kept the conversation light, as always, but today he was struggling. Something was happening to him.

They laughed and set their eyes on Veronica Mars, Amateur Surfer. She really was good. And damn, she looked hot in that bikini. Why did it have to be white? She looked so… innocent or something.

"Hey man, I gotta take off." Logan broke their silence. "Watch out for my girl, 'k? I'll call you tomorrow."

"Yeah, man. You got it. Later."

After sharing a sweet moment with Veronica, Logan departed. Dick was left on the beach with Veronica Mars.

"Hey. Dick. Do you mind if I stay for a minute longer? I think I'm really getting the hang of this. And you kinda have to take me home."

"Nah, I guess I don't really mind. I'll just be over there, talking to those hot chicks." They weren't really that hot… why was he acting this way? Fuck. This is so fucked. What's WRONG with me?

"Why aren't you surfing, Jack Johnson? It was all talk on the way here, and I've barely seen you get in the water."

"These waves are like, totally lame. I mean, they're good for you, or whatever, but they're, like, totally boring me." That wasn't even close to true, dude. Shut the fuck up. Why is Mars making you act all crazy? Why AREN'T you in the water?

He let himself watch her walking away until she reached the water. Damn her and that little white bikini. It reminded him of the white dress she wore, that hugged her tiny little body, at Shelly Pomeroy's party. She'd looked so… innocent and perfect. Only now there was less material. Much less.

He turned away, not wanting to think about Veronica Mars any more, especially the way he had been for the past couple of hours. It was just…crazy. It was just… she looked so good. And let's face it, he mused, I haven't gotten laid since Beaver's funeral. He'd been gone at least a month and a half now.

She'd been there.

Veronica went back in the water for what she told herself would be ten more minutes. Otherwise, she'd never get Dick away from his new skanks in time to get him to drive her home, shower, eat, and work a bit before Logan called. Just ten more minutes. She could see why Logan, and yes, even Dick, loved surfing so much.

She got on the board and paddled out, just as she'd done many times that day. She saw the wave coming and got excited. At first it had been scary, but Logan had been there to help her, to teach her, and she knew he'd never let her be hurt. He'd made her a promise.

So she did as Logan had taught her. And she stood up. And she was surfing. And then… she wasn't.

Dick never really believed in that shit they say. That you can see a bad thing happening in slow motion, like a car accident. But he'd be damned if it didn't seem that way now. He turned away from the girls he'd been chatting to for only a second. He felt like he needed to see Veronica; he saw it all happen.

She lost her balance. She fell into the wave. She was under the water. She emerged okay, until the surf board came up behind and knocked her out cold. It all seemed to happen so slowly.

"Shit! Oh shit!" Dick started running toward the water. "Veronica! Shit!" He'd promised Logan. He'd promised himself. He'd been talking to some not-so-hot girls, and he'd fucked up. He was running fast, faster than the two young guys who'd also seen her, faster than the life guard. Damn. Why didn't I run track? Oh, right. All that stupid running. He snapped out of his head. Quit being an ass and save Veronica.

He was the first in the water, the first to reach her. He scooped her up just as the lifeguard reached them. "Dude, I got it." He actually shoved him. "I got it. I was a lifeguard." Granted, it was for a week, two summers ago, but it was still the truth. Veronica was sputtering a bit. This is probably good.

He got Veronica to shore and laid her gently on the beach. Okay Dick. C.P.R. The lifeguard came over and started compressions. It was then Dick noticed Veronica's bathing suit had gone askew in the water, and her left nipple was exposed. He pulled the tiny triangle back to where it should be. In his memory, it was the most… the most tender thing he'd ever remembered doing. Shit… I'm so emo right now. What the fuck am I doing? Oh, right… saving Veronica Mars. He picked up her head, almost cradling it, and tilted it. He plugged her nose, opened her mouth, and began breathing for her. He felt he had to do this, even if the lifeguard could have done it alone.

In. Pause. Pause. In. Pause. Pause. In. Pause. Pause. In. Pause. Pause. It was the longest few moments he'd ever experienced. Come on Ronnie. You've been through way worse shit than this. Once again, he gave his breath to her. Intimacy. The word burned in his mind. Fuck that. Concentrate on this. It seemed they'd been at it for years already. He couldn't stand looking at her there, unconscious in that white bikini. It was almost too much… She looks like an angel. . . almost.

Dick! Get it together and shut your fucking head up.

It could have been fifteen seconds; it could have been three minutes. After, he could never really get a grasp on it. In truth, he could never really get a grasp on himself after that. Veronica Mars is making me fucking crazy, he thought, after. It wasn't his father leaving him, it wasn't his brother taking a flying leap from the roof of the Neptune Grand, it wasn't his mom having a new family to replace him and his father and brother. It was her, she got under his skin. That day was the beginning and end for us, he remembered later. There is no "us." There never would be.

Finally… FINALLY, she came back. She sputtered and coughed. The lifeguard, Why the fuck won't he leave us alone?, left to deal with the approaching ambulance. Someone had called 911. But Veronica was back now, and her color was coming back, and she was going to be okay again.

He sat her up, and she was coughing, eyes still closed. "Oh Logan… I was so scared." She snuggled into his chest and he held her, not really knowing what else to do. "I knew you'd save me." She opened her eyes and realized the chest she was clinging to was not Logan's, which was perfectly spattered with light hair. This chest was smooth. Dick felt her body tense, and they backed away from each other. "Dick. I… I thought you were Logan. I mean…obviously."

"He left, remember?" It was the most sincerely he'd ever spoken to her, maybe to anyone. He realized his hand was still holding her arm. He let go. "Hey Ronnie, there's an ambulance coming, okay? So, um, I'll come to the hospital with you if you want, or I'll call Logan, or your dad, or whatever." Shut up. She just came back from being totally knocked out. You're talking too damn much.

"Um…" She seemed to be gathering herself up, putting on her armor, becoming Veronica again, not the unconscious girl who was just pulled out of the water. He almost saw the transformation. "Um. Okay." She took a couple deep breaths. "I think I just need a couple aspirin and my bed. I'll be fine; I don't need to go to the hospital. I mean, I've been through worse than this, right?" She managed a smile. She was back for sure.

Dude. That was intense. Dick could hardly believe what had just happened. It was weird because he'd seen his own brother smashed to bits, unrecognizable but for the shirt he was wearing, but this was somehow much more affecting. Cassidy. That's still fucking with my head. But he knew it was a lie he told himself. Yes, he missed his brother, but he wasn't going to be all emo about it. The kid had been messed up, and he did some bad shit, and he jumped off a building. That was it. They'd shared little more than a house, some DNA, and few good memories. But Veronica was different. She was… She was alive, and real, and pure. Pure. Why do I even give a shit about that? Purity. Had he ever had it? Cassidy had it. At least, I thought he did. Turns out I was wrong. Turns out he raped…

As Dick was thinking things he didn't want to, the lifeguard came back with two EMTs, ready to strap Veronica onto a board and carry her away.

"She's fine, man. She doesn't wanna go to the hospital. She's tough, y'know."

"I'd like to hear that from her, IF you don't mind."

What a jerk. I just SAID she was fucking fine. "Yeah. Whatever."

Just like he knew she would, Veronica convinced them she was fine, she'd just hit her head and coughed a bit. She just wanted to go home. They made her sign something and they left.

Dick was alone with Veronica Mars.

"So, other than, like, almost dying, you did pretty good today, Ronnie."

"Thanks Dick, but I don't actually feel like talking right now. My head's splitting and, somehow, I have to tell Logan I don't particularly want to go surfing again for a while without telling him I was knocked unconscious."

"Y'know, Veronica, you can't let this make you afraid. You gotta, like, take risks and stuff sometimes." What? What did I just say? SHUT. UP!

"Excuse me, have we met? Remember when I almost died last year? Or this year? I'm so over the whole 'death' thing." She'd meant it to sound light, but it came out with a bit of anger. They were heading into territory they'd silently agreed to never talk about. And did he call her "Veronica?"

"I didn't mean… I was just… Surfing's great, Veronica. And, like, everyone has a scary experience, but hey, you, like, get over it. I mean, you'd definitely get over it."

"Okay, Dick. You've done it twice now. This whole conversation is getting weird."

"Did what twice?" Called her "Veronica" dick.

"Called me 'Veronica.'"

Dick had been weird all day. He knew Veronica sensed it. And, yeah, she'd kind of just almost died, but that wasn't it. Things like that didn't affect Dick. He was just… what he was. He'd never had a complicated or mixed up day in his life. It was one thing Veronica liked about him, she finally realized. He was simple and transparent.

She'd seen him cry at Cassidy's funeral. Not a lot, but enough to make her realize Dick's family had slowly slipped away. She remembered how she felt the moment she thought her dad had died, like a ship that would never have an anchor again, and she knew Dick felt a little like that although he'd never be poetic enough to say it like that.

"I'm drifting, Ronnie." That's what he said. "Thanks for coming. I know you two had… stuff… between you." He didn't look into her eyes but she'd grabbed his hand, and he'd squeezed it, just the tiniest bit, and they both understood what they couldn't say.

And now here he was, driving her home, like they had a bunch of times already that summer, and something was different. He couldn't hide from anyone.

"Ya know Dick. You're an open book. Something's going on with you. And if it's, like, a 'chick' problem or a 'dude' problem then kindly save it until my head doesn't feel like it's been hit by a surf board. But if you need to, um, talk about something…Beav—I mean Cassidy—or whatever, ya know, I'll try to concentrate."

"Dude. Ronnie? I'm good. Just planning an off the hook party this weekend. Wondering what kind of kegs to get, that's all." Shit. Forgot I'm a bad liar.

"Dick. You're a bad liar. Pull over and tell me what's going on. I don't want to fight with you right now."

He surprised her by acquiescing. "I've got some… stuff… on my mind."

"Dick, we all do. This has been a hard year for a lot of people in this town."

"I'm not talking about fucking Cassidy. He's dead. He's not in my life anymore. I had a life with him in it, and now I'm having one without him, and it's fine. What's not fine is having YOU in my life."

She didn't know what to say. What was he accusing her of?

"Look, I'm sorry for what he did to you. It was shitty and… I'm sorry." Shit… he hadn't meant to bring that up.

"Dick, I… I don't…" Something was happening. She could feel it coming.

He continued. "Veronica… ever since we started spending time together this summer, you, me and Logan, I've kinda had… feelings… for you."

"Now Dick. You know you don't have feelings." She thought surely he was joking, or her head was playing a trick on her. It was Dick, simple, uncomplicated Dick.

"Veronica, let me have three dimensions, for once in my life. Let me tell you something real." He'd been a caricature of himself for so long that his attempt to bubble out into three dimensions was disturbing. Even to him.

She turned to face him, finally. He faced her. "I mean, you're a hottie, and you've been there for me, and you, like, get me. And… stuff."

"Dick, I…" She stopped. She wasn't in love with Dick. It was pity. She had to just tell him the truth and let it stand. "Dick, I love Logan. And we're trying to be together, and be good to each other. And I know that, in your way, you two love each other. We've all been through so much that we need each other. Don't confuse our friendship with those kinds of feelings for me, Dick."

"I'm not confused, Veronica. I don't want you to dump Logan to be with me. I just…" This is a losing battle. She'll never understand this one thing. I've been the same simple guy for too long. "I just need to get laid, I guess."

"Now there's the Dick I know!" She somehow knew that it wasn't really what was supposed to happen. She was supposed to realize that he was growing up, becoming a whole person and not a caricature. Dick, perhaps, was finally being affected by the life he'd experienced. But it was too much. Her head was throbbing. She closed her eyes. "Let me just get home to my dad and my bed. This is too confusing," she whispered.

"Huh? So… uh… that was, uh… awkward."

"Dick, I'll never mention this again, and if I even think about it in the future, I'll convince myself it was a hallucination brought on by a blunt head trauma." She looked at him sincerely, because she could tell he'd at least… tried. And, deep down, Veronica Mars was a softie of marshmallow-like proportions. "Can you take me home? Please?"

"Yeah, Mars. Yeah."

They rode in silence.

Once Veronica was safely in her house with an icepack and a cheesy 80's movie, once phone calls had been made and she told him it was okay, he left quickly and drove. He parked by the beach he'd left less than an hour before, and grabbed his board. He needed to surf this all out.

Dick, contrary to belief, was more complex than he seemed. But only when he was surfing. It was like religion, like life, like homeostasis. He didn't even know what that word even meant unless he was surfing. When he was surfing, he was always in three dimensions. He could really feel and think deeply. He could be whole and complex. He had to get this all out.

He realized he was growing up. Too much had happened, too much life. He couldn't be simple and uncomplicated anymore. His mom left. His dad left. His brother jumped off a fucking building. And he pretended it was nothing. And then Veronica Mars started hanging around, and being nice, and they felt connected. Not just that she looked good or whatever, but they were connected by pain and desperation and some mutual bond of location and age. She'd seen much more than she should have at her age, and it was time he joined her. And Logan.

He figured it out. Veronica represented what he'd never had: innocent, simple love for another. He didn't have to love her, he just did. He didn't even want to fuck her, although he would. He just wanted to be around her, and, like, with her. It was kind of simple. This is what love is. And heartbreak. She is like surfing, only on land. She made him a whole person.

This is what life is all about. This is what's supposed to happen. This is normal.

He got out of the water, the waves having died down long ago. He could handle it all now. He'd become… normal. Ish.

He came back to himself, his usual, transparent, land-self, as his phone rang. "Douche bag! What's happening, dude? Nah man, just surfin'. Yeah…"

Dick sunk back into two dimensions.