Braylen wasn’t afraid to admit he’d never exactly been known for his intelligence, and truth be told, he didn’t have any deep interest in his current major. His passion had always been in the ocean–in surfing. It was invigorating to feel the cold water rushing around him as he balanced on his beloved board. But it was humbling to know he was completely at the mercy of the ocean. There was nothing any class could do that would give him the same rush.

By the time his schedule cleared up enough for him to have a weekend to himself, Braylen already knew where he wanted to go: a small beach he’d pass along the coast every so often that he never saw anyone at. So he drove out one morning, parked nearby, and took his board to the shore. There were several signs on the path leading to the water, but Braylen paid them no mind. They probably said basic warnings about being fined for littering or drinking alcohol. Most beaches had those.

The waves weren’t massive, but they were steady and big enough for Braylen to catch a few good ones before losing his balance and falling off his board. Each time he fell, he surfaced with a bigger grin. But on one run, he mistimed it. His board shot away from him and he plunged underwater. The last coherent thought that went through his mind before swallowing a mouthful of seawater was: Well, damn. Is this really how I die?

The next thing he knew, someone’s arms hooked under his and dragged him back to shore. He spluttered and coughed up water as his back hit the hot sand on the shore. Braylen rolled onto his side, hacking up more seawater before collapsing back onto the sand with a groan. The midday sun had been cooking the sand all day, and the sensation of it on his back felt like lying on a grill.

He squinted up at the lifeguard crouched above him, wearing a more than displeased expression. “Hot,” Braylen croaked out, gesturing vaguely to the sand, before realizing he was staring straight at you. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean–well, I mean…” Maybe he should’ve just drowned instead.

Braylen’s eyes drifted to the upside-down signs behind your head. ‘Private Property. No Trespassing. Rip Currents.’ “Oh, I see. Private property, huh?” Braylen dropped his head back onto the sand. “You should… uh… put a sign up for that.”