Guardian Angel

Chapter 1

My dad was right, I soon grew out of my mom telling me bedtime stories, it wasn't until after she was gone when I truly wish I would have asked for more. Her accident was when I was thirteen and hated the world. Sometimes it's hard to remember her smile, but it was so vibrant that it was often hard to forget. I wake up early every morning to go to our favorite surfing spot as that was our thing. 

The sound of waves hitting the shore are ringing my ears, golden sunlight reflecting off of the gentle water. The soft sand sticks between my toes, my surfboard sitting in next to me as I watch the crystal blue water. You see, this is my happy place, the one place where I feel free. My mom and I would always go surfing when we had a bad day. The ocean reminds me of her, because she was always so gentle, like the foamy surf lapping the shore. She loved that sound, and the rush of air as she road down off of a wave. 

I felt safe here, like nothing in the world could let me down. I felt peace and at home. My morning is quickly interrupted by my phone alarm going off, warning me I have to get back home. I take up my board, sand falling off as I run to my car. Placing the board on top of my jeep, I tie it down before making my way home. My house isn't too far from the beach, so I arrive in about five minutes. Opening the door, I see my father sitting in the living room, reading his newspaper and drinking coffee. He slowly puts the paper down and looks at me. I could see the look of disappointment on his face. 

Our relationship has not been the best since my mother passed. Every time he looks at me I can tell, all he sees is her and it pains him. "Hi dad," I wave to him awkwardly as I walk in, setting the board against the wall and brushing the rest of the sand off on my shorts.

"Do I need to take away that board?" He asks standing up from the couch, and I roll my eyes.

"No. I lost track of time," I say, making my way toward the stairs.

"It seems to be happening a lot recently. I really don't want you to miss out on amazing opportunities," he warns lightheartedly, and I chose not to reply, heading up the stairs and into my room to change.

I take my hair out of its bun, curly locks falling over my shoulders, and give it a quick brush, changing out of my swim suit and putting on shorts and a loose tank top as I go. Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I headed for the stairs. I stop at the edge of them and looked down the hall at my parent's room, a ghost of a memory of my mother coming to me. I smile and make my way downstairs. It isn't long before I'm closing the driver's side door of the car behind me, glancing back at our house, which seems too big now for just two people.

Luckily, despite the rush, I make it to school with 10 minutes to spare. I find Jackson sitting at the round table near at the edge of the parking lot. Kim's sitting opposite him, staring down at her phone. Jackson is the head of the football team, the star player, our quarterback. He's gorgeous and I can say honestly that I understand why all the girls drool over him. He's sweet, despite what others may think, like a big teddy bear. Kim is lovely, herself. She's very beautiful, though I have to think part of that is her permanent smile and the heart she wears on her sleeve.

"Wow, look who got here early!" Jackson calls, clapping his hands at me. I roll my eyes at him and take a seat next to Kim. Sliding my backpack off, I set it onto the table. "I thought the ocean would have kept you longer."

I narrow my eyes at him and cross my legs beneath me.

"I thought I would make an exception today, something felt special," I respond, looking over at Kim who sets her phone on the table and gives me a smile.

"Did you hear about the senior project we're getting today?" Kim asked, picking up her bag and nodding her head as an indicator to follow her. I grab my things and quickly stand to follow her.