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“Yes,” I said.

“The first time?” she asked.

“You broke up more than once?”

“We did.”

“Then yes, the first time.”

“Cheryl.”

My phone buzzed on my desk, and I cringed. I usually left my phone in my bag during a recording session for exactly this reason.But the message on the screen from Theo made me smile:Good job kicking today. You are going to kill it.

I smiled and tossed my phone onto the bed behind me; I’d answer him when I was done.

“Wait, Cheryl was the reason you broke up?” I said, finally registering Grandma’s answer. “The girl you loaned your board to?”

“It was actually Andrew who loaned her my board.”

“He didn’t!”

“They were in surf club together and her board had been damaged and Andrew came and got mine without my permission.”

“He. Did. Not,” I said, this time emphasizing each word. “That little punk.”

“It wasn’t a good move.”

“So you broke up with him?”

“It was the jealousy speaking. I thought he had a thing for Cheryl.”

“How did you do it?”

“How did I break up with him?”

“Yes, this was before texting,” I said, thinking about how I had broken up with Jensen. Or at least how I had made it official.

“We were far from texting at the time. I guess I could’ve sent him a telegram,” she said.

I laughed.

“No, it was a foggy afternoon. You know how it gets here sometimes.”

“Yes, for those not from Morro Bay, sometimes a morning or even an all-day fog rolls in and clings to the big rock by the bayand floats out over the ocean. It’s both beautiful and haunting all at once.”

“The perfect mood for a breakup,” Grandma said. “He was surfing, and I waited for him on the shore. He and Cheryl walked up together, my board between them. She kept walking when she saw me. But he stayed.You let her use my board?I asked. He seemed confused, and I pointed at her. He said,What’s the big deal? I’m the one who gave it to you.”

I gasped.

“Yes,” she said. “So I screamed,Then she can have both of you!”

“And then?” I asked, anger churning in my chest imagining the scene.

“Then they left. With my board.”

“WHAT’S GOING ON?” I ASKEDMax, who was walking beside me. We’d gone to my car at lunch to grab a sweatshirt from my trunk, because even though it was April, it was cold today. It was Theo’s sweatshirt, the one he had loaned me before yoga. I hadn’t given it back, and I was glad for it. The smell of soapy vanilla still lingered on the soft material, and it made me smile.

An afternoon fog had rolled in and clung to the grass and trees and hung in the air. It made me think of my grandma and Andrew today. We were heading back through campus. I pulled the sleeves of the sweatshirt I now wore over my hands. “I haven’t hadthis many people stare at me since Jensen broadcasted to the whole school how terrible I was a month ago.”