“They noticed, and you’re still grounded from last time,” I say. “That means no surfing. Not even before school. Definitely not during school.” Jesse considers this for a second before setting his phone in a car holder. “You’d think differently if you were here, Kuya. The swells are—” “Sick,” I smile. “You already told me.” His eyes soften, almost sadly. I know he misses me. I miss him every day.
