Dear Reader, 

I wrote this story years ago when I was a freshman in high school. Things have obviously changed a lot since then, but this was something I really loved to do and am proud of for finishing for the pure love of writing. For me, it was something I found relaxing, sometimes frustrating, and ultimately rewarding. Writing these stories improved my writing and narrative skills in ways that I cannot describe, so if there are people out there contemplating about writing a story — go for it.

I thought about completely re-doing this story many times. However, I felt I would be doing the story and its characters injustice by gutting it and bringing it to the present. Consequently, I decided to edit it for grammar, spelling, and clarity instead and kept the original plot. I've gotten some comments about Hannah and her actions, but try to remember that she's a 16-year-old girl. Who's really mature at that age? I know I wasn't, so keep that in mind. I hope you enjoy the story, I'm truly grateful that you took the time out of your day to read it, and I'm sorry for some really 2012 references.

Sincerely the author, 

Nikki

~

I woke up to the sound of my alarm clock beeping, which read six a.m. I turned it off and jumped out of bed. Why would anyone be so excited to get up at this ridiculously early time of day on the first day of summer? Either they're crazy or a surfer.

It was that time of year again. My life in the summer to sum it up was: surfing, surfing, and more surfing. I was in the water from the moment I woke up until the sun dipped below the horizon. There were also a couple of night surfing trips thrown in there, too. I wasn't necessarily a morning person but I was a surfing person, and I endured the worst; sunburns, reef cuts, rashes, sore muscles, you name it.

Most parents wouldn't advise this "way of life" for their kids or anyone else for that matter but my parents were both die-hard surfers back in the day, so how could I not have that laid-back spirit or salt water practically running through my veins? By the time we could stand on our own, my best friend Ryan and I were put on boards and since then I knew I loved surfing.

I didn't surf year-round because I had school, but whenever I had spare time, I was on my board. When I was 10 years old and school continued to stay the same boring thing, I begged and begged my parents to let me quit school and get homeschooled like lots of famous surfers and my aunt. They eventually convinced me it was a bad idea. My aunt was a professional surfer and had been homeschooled so she could surf all day and achieve her dream. It seemed awesome, right? She said that she always wished she could have done normal school stuff like having lots of friends and going to class despite becoming a professional surfer.

I realized, or my parents made me realize through a detailed PowerPoint, that the odds of becoming a professional surfer these days were slim unless you got a big break with a sponsor, so I decided to stay in school and find something to fall back on as my "Plan B." I also realized I would miss Ryan during the day while he was at school and then we could no longer hang out when he got back because he would have homework.

I had placed in a couple of junior competitions over the past years, but there was always room to improve and my two older brothers mentioned this to me many times. I had never been old enough to enter the North Shore's annual amateur surf competition and I just awed at them from the beach, but this year I was finally 16 and could enter for the first time. The North Shore was and still is one of the best places in the world to surf and people come from all over to surf the waves. The North Shore was one of those places where people get noticed and then sponsored.

I got my bikini on in under a minute, slapped on some sunscreen, and grabbed my board. I ran across our porch through the gate and sprinted to the water. I jumped onto my board and started paddling. This routine took under five minutes and had been perfected over many years.

Ah, how I had missed the feeling of saltwater on my skin, watching the gorgeous Hawaiian sunrise from my board, and seeing the waves swell around me. I was lying with my back on my board, letting the waves rock me when I turned and saw Ryan paddling toward me, his blue eyes standing out against his tan. We finally made eye contact and he smiled widely. All the girls at school would have sighed if Ryan had given them that smile, but to me, he was my best friend.

I had known Ryan since I was born. Our moms were childhood best friends and surfed together growing up. They parted ways in their 20s yet somehow ended up living in the same Oahu surf town just down the street from each other countless years later. Ryan and I had been inseparable since we were little and surfed together all the time. Our moms thought we were destined to end up together because they were both pregnant at the same time and we were born exactly two months apart. Ryan was older and liked to think this gave him some authority over me.

Going into our junior year of high school, we surfed with our other friends: Johnny, Alana, Brody, and Bethany. I talked to Ryan every day at school, but I got busy a lot and we predominantly hung out on the weekend. Ryan was always out surfing while I was inside studying, but every once and a while he could convince me to go out on the waves.

Ryan and I always had this brother-sister, best friend relationship. He was always just my best friend who I could talk to about anything, but also could have a good time with. Ryan had always been around and our relationship stayed relatively the same until he asked out Caroline a couple of months earlier.

Caroline was nice and I never had any problems with her. I also was genuinely happy for Ryan when he told me he had asked her out. Although, all of the sudden I started blushing whenever he teased me and would laugh too hard at his not-so-funny jokes like all the other girls at school who liked him and he just shrugged off awkwardly. Then I realized for some stupid or crazy reason that I had a crush on him and found him really, really attractive. I never thought much of how tall, tan, and good-looking he was. I couldn't wrap my head around how I had been so blind in my 16 years of knowing him to not notice how attractive he was.

Of course, I kept this sudden change of heart on the down-low. I assumed this occurred because he was now taken since you always want what you can't have, or that was always the case with me even when I was younger. I'd stop using a board because I wanted the newer one that someone else had then right as one of my brothers used it, I wanted it right back.

It took so much mental focus and willpower not to act on my small crush and keep my cool. I never wanted to hurt Caroline because she actually liked me and wasn't jealous of how close Ryan and I were. I also knew he would have never gone for me because I was just his "sister-like best friend." I had seen way too many television shows where the best friends date to see if it works out and it never does, so why ruin something good in the first place?

The only problem was I assumed my feelings would go away when they broke up. However, when they parted ways, nothing changed for me besides the fact that I didn't have to worry about Caroline anymore. In fact, all the things I found "normal" about Ryan were all of a sudden really attractive. Like when he flipped his hair out of his eyes, it made me melt and his hair got in his face a lot.

My strategy of not thinking about him and staying busy with soccer had worked. I tried to pretend that he was the same old Ryan I had always known, but he wasn't. So, when this cute guy named Ethan asked me out, I was really surprised. I didn't really think a guy would be into me. Like yeah, Alana and Bethany told me how pretty I was but when a guy as attractive as Ethan said it, let's just say it left a lasting impression on me. While I was lost in that moment of being complimented, I completely forgot all about Ryan and muttered "yes" like I was drunk or under some kind of spell, which was definitely the effect Ethan had on people.

When I went up to Ryan's locker and told him, I thought he'd be happy for me. He knew I thought Ethan was hot and out of my league, but where I was expecting a great big smile, all I got in return was a small smile accompanied by a fake "yay." I was taken aback by this because Ryan was always happy even around the people you'd be the most unhappy with. I assumed his attitude change was because he was functioning as my protective third older brother and didn't want poor Hannah to get hurt. He was also single while I no longer was, so I didn't have as much time to hang out with him.

After a few months, Ethan and I had decided to end things and remain friends, but it was fun while it lasted. As I sadly told Ryan that I experienced my first breakup, I saw what I thought was almost a smile flash across his face.

Later at one of our usual Gold-Jensen family dinners, I was hanging out with Ryan's older sister in her room and learning about her awesome life as a junior. Sam was always really cool and I envied her. She had what seemed like everything: an amazing boyfriend, popularity, lots of friends, great soccer and surfing skills, and gorgeous looks — she was by far the prettiest girl at our school.

I always wished I was like her, being able to do it all. I tried to emulate her as best I could except I wasn't popular regardless of what some people said, didn't have the great boyfriend or the balance between my social life and school down, and I was nowhere near as pretty.

I asked Sam about the Ryan thing and she reaffirmed exactly what I had predicted.

"He's just being protective," she encouraged. "Trust me, he's even like that around my boyfriends! You'll need someone like Ryan looking out for you when you're older."

Maybe older could start now instead of in my 20s?

Now that I saw him, I got me this feeling in my stomach that you were definitely not supposed to have when your best friend was around.

"Long time no see," he joked with a grin on his face.

"Ha. Ha. Very funny," I replied. "Ready to shred some waves?"

We did not actually use the phrase "shred some waves," but we liked to make fun of people who did. We never said it because it was way too much of a stereotypical surfer thing to say. Although we were blonde, lived in Hawaii, and loved to surf, "shred some waves" was too much to add to it all and you sounded more like a skater rather than a surfer anyway. However, we did say hang loose, or at least I did, and it irritated Ryan so of course, I said it whenever I got the chance.

He just glared at me and replied, "Always."

Then slowly his glare turned into a smile. Even seeing this small gesture made me so aggravated with myself and my feelings. I wished I could turn them off. Of all people, why did I have to like my best friend? I wouldn't be able to take this whole having-an-insane-crush-on-your-best-friend thing for the entire summer and this was supposed to be the best summer ever. At the rate things were going this was going to be a long summer.

~

The waves near my house were fairly nice, especially for beginning surfers or if you wanted an easy day and were too lazy to drive anywhere better, the latter of which my brothers enjoyed. The only issue was the waves were less predictable in size and hard to get a solid ride out of them.

We surfed for about two hours with me making a couple of great 360s and him staying in the pipe for what seemed like forever before we headed up the beach to my house. My family lived in a typical beach house with a patio overlooking the ocean, surfboards laying everywhere, old pictures of my parents hanging on the walls as reminders of when they used to travel to cool places around the world and surf, and sand staying everywhere.

Ryan and I went around the back, tied our boards to the top of my car, and drove down to our favorite surf spot located a couple of blocks from the famous North Shore. We all dreamt of surfing at the North Shore because the waves were always perfect crescents. However, the unwritten rules of being allowed to surf there were: you had to be a local, you had to be an amazing surfer, or you had to be an adult. I was local and, in my opinion, a decent surfer but it still looked intimidating as hell as a 16-year-old.

When Ryan and I were 10 years old, we discovered our surf spot nestled in a cove you had to hike down to and realized we pretty much had it all to ourselves. Our parents also never got super concerned because there was a reef about a mile out from where the good waves were, so the sharks couldn't swim in. We called our spot the Almost North Shore or ANS for short. ANS was tucked away behind trees, so people weren't judging us from the street or sitting on the beach to watch us occasionally wipe out. Not to mention, the sunsets were absolutely gorgeous and peaceful to watch alone. It was the place I loved going to even if I wasn't surfing.

My friends and I had never been territorial about our spot until this other group of surfers led by Miranda Weston started coming to surf during the spring while we were all busy with school and sports. It was technically a public place but there was an unofficial code between surfers about who surfed in which spots, and everyone knew as well as respected that the spot was ours. Besides this, Miranda was a good surfer but extremely cocky. She was also super competitive just like me, so our rivalry practically sparked immediately. Miranda and her friends would always cut us off and take the best waves, and we would practically have to steal if we wanted a good ride. We had kept this little problem subdued and nothing had really come up to the surface, but something was boiling. Any physical fights had been avoided and we let the surfing do the talking for now.

As Ryan and I walked down the path to the beach, we saw Brody killing it on a wave while Alana, Johnny, and Bethany all cheered from their boards in the water nearby. We had all been friends since elementary school and loved surfing. Essentially, we were all just laid-back surfers kicking it in Oahu.

When Brody finished his ride, Alana congratulated him with a kiss. It wasn't long, but it was still weird. They kissed in front of us before yet they had only started dating in May so it was a pretty new thing to get used to. They had known each other since kindergarten and finally realized that they were into each other after an awkward sophomore year full of eye-flirting and complete denial. I was okay with it as long as Alana was happy. I hoped that Brody would never break her heart because if he did I would physically hurt him.

I also thought Bethany and Johnny might have liked each other, and they noticed this too from what Bethany said was "a strange look on my face." They reassured me many times that they were only friends and things would stay that way. They noted that I was, and I quote, "about to explode" when I saw them flirting at a party last year.

I thought maybe one reason I got so crazy about the possibility of Johnny and Bethany dating was that if they did, then it would be me and Ryan awkwardly there with the couples. That would put pressure on us and my friends knew that Ryan and I wouldn't want to risk our friendship.

"I'm not going to leave you," Bethany whispered in my ear. She was such a mind reader and that's why I loved her.

It was 5:30 p.m. and we usually didn't cut a surfing session so short, but there was a first day of summer party that no one, not even surfers, wanted to miss if they got invited. This was the start of a great summer.