The next afternoon, they got dressed in their swim trunks, hosed each other down with sunscreen spray, and hit the beach.
Miguel noted Hawk had forgone wearing a tank-top, and he considered it a good sign that his friend was showing off that big, purple-mohawked bird on his back just like he used to when they hung out together at the beach in the past. And both their spirits swelled as soon as their feet touched the hot sand and stared at the big, blue ocean ahead of them.
Miguel's eyes were drawn to the way the light played on the crashing and ebbing waves, and he could taste the salty brine in the air left behind in the seafoam. A sudden rush got the blood pumping in his veins. Tapping Hawk on his chest, he beamed. "Race ya!"
"You're on!" said Hawk, grinning back.
The two of them took off, zigzagging past the towels where others were sunbathing, twisting to avoid running kids, all to make a beeline for the shore. Eli stumbled on his feet in the wet sand, giving Miguel the victory. But he didn't even take a second to celebrate or gloat for his trivial win. Miguel instead threw himself into the water, letting each wave carry him further and further into the tide. And once he was shoulder-deep, he took a deep breath and dove in.
Hawk was right, the water here in the Gulf of Mexico was warmer than the Pacific. It wasn't like the cold jolt of the ocean back home in California, the jarring touch that forced him to stand there in the middle of it until he got acclimated. This was different. This ocean enveloped him with the warmth of a blanket, the warmth of a hug, and Miguel soaked it in until he had no choice but to break to the surface for breath.
Wiping his wet hair out of his eyes, Miguel was only met with more brine to the face when Hawk splashed him. Spitting some of the sea salt off his lips, Miguel laughed. "Is that a challenge?" he dared.
"Maybe," Hawk replied, swimming around Miguel like a shark before taking the opportunity to raise the stakes and splash him in the face again.
When Hawk paddled behind him, Miguel attacked, turning around to shove his hands down on Hawk's shoulders and dunk him. Hawk retaliated by wrapping his arms around his torso and pulling Miguel under the ocean with him. The two of them scuffled for a few seconds before breaking the surface again, laughing as they almost choked spitting water out of their mouths.
"Come on, I'll race you to the farthest buoy," dared Hawk.
"Loser buys lunch," Miguel wagered before taking off in a quick breast-stroke.
It was like that between them for a couple of hours, there in the ocean. Repeat challenges, minor victories and losses that stopped mattering as soon as the competition was finished. It was a way for Miguel to forget that they hadn't been able to have their rematch in the semifinals, so they still didn't know who could beat whom at karate.
But even if they had been able to fight, neither of them had been at their best at the All-Valley. Even after six months of training, Miguel still hadn't been at a hundred percent. And for Hawk, well, by that time it had only been six weeks since his ordeal. And they'd both known all this. They hadn't needed to say it out loud at the time to acknowledge it, even when affirming they would give only their best to each other. But they'd known.
This was better, Miguel decided. This was fun.
They stayed on the beach all day, breaking only once to grab some lunch from a local food shack. After that, they walked the shoreline together to let the sun dry them off, losing themselves so much to their amusing chatter that they lost sight of their starting landmark. So they turned around, strolling the water's edge back to where they had started, and then kept walking in the other direction until they couldn't see the landmark again.
Up there, they found a fallen tree log half-buried in the sand by the seashore to sit down for a rest, letting the shallow tide wet their feet. By then, purple clouds were dotting across the orange evening sky, bringing with them feelings of nostalgia for Miguel as the day started winding down.
He remembered past trips to the beach again, ones with his friends. Snacking on snow cones with Aisha. Trying to toss the frisbee with Demetri. Picking up seashells for Tory. Sunbathing with a couple of bobas with Sam. And with Hawk, he recalled a day shortly before school started when he tried provoking him into getting into a swimming race, much like they'd done earlier that day.
Miguel found himself smiling at the memory. Reaching beside him, he poked Hawk on his shoulder.
"Hey, remember last summer when I couldn't even get you into the water?" asked Miguel. "When I tried dragging you into the ocean, and you threw me down to protect your mohawk from getting wet?" His mirth dampened like soggy sand as soon as the words left his mouth, the memory now tainted by what had happened in the year since then. "Oh shit, man, I'm sor—"
"Dude, don't worry about it." Turning his head to stare at the sunset on the ocean's horizon, Eli shrugged his shoulders and muttered, "I mean, it was dumb of me to even care about that. It's just hair."
Hawk didn't sound like he meant it. His utterances sounded like an empty mantra.
Miguel shifted a little closer on the log. "It wasn't just hair to you though, was it?"
Hawk's eyes flitted to him just for a second before he focused them back on the ocean. Miguel watched his jaw clench from the tension of pressing his mouth in a thin line, and his whole body tensed up, like all his muscles were contracting at once. Miguel assumed the conversation was going to end there because that was how it had been for them so far whenever he broached the topic.
But then Hawk spoke up, his voice dropping low. "Everyone keeps telling me it'll grow back," he mumbled, fidgeting with his fingers in his lap. "And I guess they're right, but I…I should've been able to stop it from being cut in the first place. I mean, I was tougher than all of them, I know I was, so I don't understand why I couldn't…."
"It was five against one," Miguel pointed out softly. Even he couldn't have beaten those odds. He knew from experience, from back at the Halloween dance, where Kyler and his gang proved it to him in the locker room.
But he didn't know if his words reached Hawk. His friend was pointedly avoiding his gaze, his eyes rapidly blinking even more now, and his nostrils were flaring with his deepening breaths. Miguel detected a familiar tremor in his shoulders, much as he did on the bus ride, and Eli's attempts to sit even more rigidly only made it worse.
And it made Hawk's next words come out more strained. "It was like all that karate training didn't mean anything. Kyler and those guys were laughing at me the whole time and there wasn't anything I could do about it. Robby, he…he was cutting off p-pieces of me, and I couldn't stop him. And, I c-couldn't even hold it together. They…They saw me cry. I tried to hold it in, b-but I couldn't, and they saw me cry. I wasn't sup-p-posed to be helpless like that anymore. And I shouldn't feel like this anymore be-because I beat Robby at the Tournament and I-I know my hair will grow back…."
Miguel listened to Hawk, heard him start to stutter, heard the way his voice kept cracking as he struggled to hold himself together. And he wished he could think of something wise to say to him. He tried remembering back to what helped him when he was in pain. But he wasn't wise. He wasn't Sensei Lawrence. He wasn't Mr. LaRusso. And even their advice sounded hollow right now in his mind's ear.
Of course a trophy wouldn't fix this for Hawk. Hadn't Miguel figured out that lesson for himself, too?
Even though Hawk kept avoiding having to look at him, Miguel leaned closer. "Y'know, after my surgery, there were a lot of times where it felt like I was never going to be my old self again," he said. "I used to feel invincible, but then I was having to rely on Mom and Sensei for everything. And when I started getting strength back in my legs and I was walking again, I wanted to get that old feeling back. That's why I went back to karate, and why I trained for the All-Valley Tournament. Because I thought if I became a two-time champ, it would be like the fall never happened. And I got so upset when people were worried about me getting hurt because that must've meant I wasn't as strong as I used to be…. But then, when I pulled that muscle during our match, suddenly I was helpless all over again. Or at least, I thought I was…. I've figured out that I was never all that invincible in the first place, but that doesn't mean things haven't been getting better."
He had no idea if any of what he was saying would help, or even if he was making any sense, but he'd kept going until he got it all out. And where he'd been hesitant to offer a comforting touch on the bus, Miguel now reached his arm around Hawk's back to wrap his hand over his trembling shoulder and squeeze it.
Hawk sniffled, and then his throat cracked. His hand flew up to shield his eyes and Eli hunched over, breaking into sobs. And although he tried his best to hide them from Miguel, some seeped through his fingers and slid down his cheeks.
Miguel didn't say anything else, but he kept his arm wrapped around Hawk's shoulders and pulled him closer, letting him let it out. He could imagine how humiliating it must've been to break down in front of the guys from Cobra Kai, but he wanted Hawk to know there was no reason to be ashamed to cry in front of him.