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I’m going to smack you tomorrow

Millie leans across the giant table in the staff room, arranging polaroids of this week’s activities into piles that make sense to her.

This entire week she’s snapped photos and videos of the kids on camp, including candid shots with her new polaroid camera.

She’s arranging for each of the forty-eight kids and twelve adults to go home with mementos of the week when they depart tomorrow, and she’s taking the job very seriously.

The first camp of Maelstrom Wave Riders ends in twelve hours, and whilst wrangling almost fifty kids of varying ages for our first ever camp was one hell of a learning experience, I can’t wait to do it again.

Participants told us before bed tonight they don’t want to go home, they’ve made new friends and can’t wait to save for a surfboard. It’s more than I could’ve dreamed.

My friends and other trusted people in my circle all played different roles this week.

Teachers, instructors, counsellors, stand-in parents for those who hurt themselves and those who wanted to celebrate achievements.

We have lots to reflect on and will do a de-brief before our camping trip in a couple of weeks’ time on what we can improve for next time.

For starters, we have to figure out how to manage demand.

The waitlist for the next one is a mile long, so searching for a space which can cater for more participants is high on the list. The venue we found for our pilot Australian camp is a quick ten-minute walk to the beach, but it doesn’t have enough cabins to cater for our numbers. Not a bad problem to have.

Millie chews her bottom lip, flipping her mass of dark curls over her shoulder. She mumbles to herself as she rearranges her piles.

I rise from the couch, making my way over to her. “How much longer are you going to obsess over those?”

“Don’t rush me,” she grits out, not taking her eyes off the table. “I want it to be perfect.”

“It already is,” I assure her, circling my arms around her waist. “The kids have had the best week of their lives and are going home with a goodie bag to rival those of the Oscars.”

“That reminds me, can you text Gabby and ask her to bring the gift vouchers? They still need to go in the bags.” Millie tilts her head to the sixty bags lining the far wall, already bursting with freebies for each participant to take home.

I dig my chin into her shoulder, and she squeals, leaning back into my chest. “Let’s go to bed and finish this in the morning.”

She tilts her head to the side, her arms covering mine around her waist. “I am not having sex with you while there are children on the property.”

“You’re so lame.” I kiss her neck, her coconut scent filling my nostrils. “It’s the last night and everyone’s in bed. No one’s going to walk into our room.”

“I’m not taking any chances,” she whispers. She tilts her head to give me better access to her neck and a low moan sounds from her throat. My balls tighten instantly.

“Sure sounds like you want to take a chance.” I press my hips into her, and she moans again before standing upright.

“Keep it in your pants, King,” she warns, glaring at me over her shoulder.

I groan, adjusting my crotch unashamedly. “Still giving me blue balls a year later.”

Millie smirks before reaching for a photo on the table. “What do you think of this one? I printed it off today for us to hang at home.”

I smile at the use of the word ‘home’. Millie’s moving into my place next week.

Not that much will change. We’re basically together twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.

But she’ll be officially based at my house thanks to her and Ellis’ decision to sell Beans after its renovations.

Ellis will pay off the rest of the mortgage for their house with the profits, and the two of them can enjoy life without being business owners.

I know it’s bittersweet for both of them, but they found a young family to buy the place, who agreed to let them use the space once a month for their free coffee and haircuts events.

“So, do you like it?” Millie asks, waving the bright blue photograph in front of me.

I ducked my face in the water in Fiji and blew her a kiss, which she snapped from underneath the waves.

She’s getting more daring and brazen with her photography skills, training four times a week to ensure she stays fit enough and learns how to hold her breath underwater for extended periods.

I knew she had it in her, but she continues to surprise herself.

“Looks magazine-worthy,” I tell her.

“I can see it now,” she agrees. “Three-time World Champion Noah King is so in love with his girlfriend it’s embarrassing.”

“Can’t be mad when they’re not lies.” I curl my hand around the side of her neck and pull her to me, kissing her deeply. She goes slack in my hands, and I smile into her mouth, knowing she’s about to cave.

A loud bang sounds across the room, and we break apart, watching as Dan barges in with such force the door bounces off the wall.

“Jesus,” Millie gasps, clutching her chest.

Dan’s gaze flicks to us, jaw pulsating. “Sorry.”

I frown. “You alright, mate?”

Dan almost huffs smoke out of his nostrils, clenching his fists by his side. “Yep.”

I give him a quizzical look as Mack and Callum file in behind him, talking loudly.

“Bro, the girls in cabin eight said I was their favourite instructor,” Mack says, heading straight for the fridge. “Face the facts.”

“Because you told them you love watching Disney movies and saving puppies,” Callum bites back.

Mack shrugs, fishing out a bottle of water. “Both true.”

“When was the last time you did either?” Callum challenges.

Mack looks skyward. “Last time was when your mum came over.”

Callum glowers at him and steps forward angrily.

“Boys,” Millie warns. “The kids love you both. We’ve nearly made it the entire week with minimal fights between us. Let’s keep it that way.”

“I’m going to smack you tomorrow,” Callum hisses, heading for the couch.

Mack sticks his tongue out at his retreating back as Gabby enters the room, flustered and holding a fat stack of envelopes.

“Sorry! I’ve got the gift vouchers here.

” Gabby beelines for Millie, her high ponytail swishing, and hands her the stack.

When she sees the array of photos her flushed face breaks into a smile. “Wow. There are so many good ones.”

“I know, right?” Millie grins. “I hope you’re happy getting albums of photos for Christmas.” She reaches to an unsorted stack on the right and pulls out a polaroid. “Take this one of you and Dan. Dan’s actually smiling.”

Gabby takes it from Millie, the corners of her mouth tipped downward. She looks over her shoulder at Dan leaning against the far wall, jaw so tight it might break.

My sister and my best friend have known each other almost as long as I’ve known Dan.

From their very first meeting as teenagers, he and Gabby have either butted heads or been the best of friends.

He’s protective of her like me and Jared, can spend hours playing board games or surfing with her, but he’s also got a short fuse.

He can’t always handle Gabby’s strong will as well as our family can.

I’ve had my whole life to learn how to rile her up and calm her down.

Watching Dan navigate that to this day brings endless amounts of enjoyment.

Gabby hands it back to Millie. “Keep it.”

Mille frowns. “You can have?—”

“After this camp, if I see Dan’s face anywhere , I may commit murder,” she jokes, tucking her hair behind her ear. Dan’s chest heaves, but he doesn’t comment. “I don’t want to mess up the flow you’ve got going on here, either. Ooh, should we do a toast to our last night?”

Mack and Callum cheer in agreement and leap into sorting out plastic cups for us to pour champagne into. We’ve had a strict no-alcohol policy during the camp, so drinking a swig of champagne is something we’re all keen for.

When we all have a cup in our hands, we form a circle in the middle of the room, and everybody automatically looks at me.

“Well, I guess I better start,” I say, clearing my throat. “I couldn’t have done this without each of you. I mean it. This wouldn’t exist; I wouldn’t have become champion again . . .” I glance at Millie beside me. “I wouldn’t have the best woman in the world moving into my home next week.”

“Totes cute,” Mack sings sarcastically.

“We’ve helped kids and adults become more confident,” I continue.

“We’ve watched them grow in such a short amount of time and helped give kids an experience some of them never thought possible.

A week of doing a heap of stuff we all love to do wasn’t what I initially envisioned.

It’s better. Better than I could have ever thought possible.

I’m grateful to the volunteers and the counsellors, to my sponsors and family, but you guys .

. . I wouldn’t want to be doing this with anyone else. ”

My chest swells as I look around the circle, the truth of my words settling over me with a buzz. My heart is so full of gratitude and pride at what we’ve achieved this year, and I’m forever grateful for every step that led us to this point.

When I look at Millie again, her brown eyes glisten, and she’s chewing her bottom lip. “That was beautiful.”

Mack pouts. “I’m about to bloody cry.”

“Well said, mate.” Callum lifts his cup. “Thank you for a stellar year. I can honestly say, it’s been one of the best of my entire life.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” Dan agrees, his gaze landing on my sister, who looks surprised. I hazard a guess it’s his way of calling a truce to whatever their latest argument is. Dan rarely chimes in on toasts or says anything remotely sappy.

“Hear, hear!” Mack bellows, and we raise our cups. “To a fucking great year!”

“It’s been one of the best years of my life too,” I say quietly to Millie, as everyone swigs their drink. “And you’re the best part of it.”

She gazes up at me and smiles. “Really? Even better than becoming champion?”

“Fuck yeah.”

She rolls her eyes as she reaches her hands around my neck, stopping inches from my mouth. “You are such a cliché, Noah King.”

I pull her into me and she squeals, champagne sloshing out of her cup. “I’m going to keep cliché-ing the shit out of you.”