TEENS

Chapter 1

I stepped out onto the beach, my toes curling in the smooth, soft, and suddenly sweltering sand beneath my feet. I cringed and hopped further onto the beautiful landscape, smiling at neighbors and acquaintances that passed me on my way. Someone tapped me on the shoulder and I flashed him or her a grin. I threw my towel out before me and watched as it fluttered and rolled in the breeze. After two minutes of struggling to flatten it on the ground, spilling grains of sand all over the towel (which totally defeated the purpose anyways), I lay back on the towel and stared up at the sun.

I woke up with a start, the sun blinding my face. I guess I had dozed off, as the sky now seemed darker. I looked to my right and sure enough, it was evening. Almost everyone from before had deserted the beach and I was left in isolation. I squinted and saw some bodies walking around. Otherwise, I was by myself.

Or so I thought.

“Leaving already?”

I turned around and faced a tall, slender chest. I finally looked up and saw an equally long and slender male face. He smiled at me, his eyes right on mine. He held out a hand to me and I stared at it, pulling my towel into a ball underneath my armpits. I suddenly felt self-conscious about the two-piece I had decided to wear. I let go of the towel and wrapped it around my body, eyeing the boy who was still smiling at me.

“Guess you’re not one for handshakes,” I looked at his hand, which actually looked pretty warm. Yet, I couldn’t find the courage to shake it. “I don’t bite,”

“Yeah, well, maybe I do.” I said, and with that I pushed past him and trudged up the beach. I kind of wanted to turn around and apologize, but I kept repeating my mantra in my head – school over boys.

Yeah, I’m Laurel Lane, and I believed in school over boys.

I guess one could say that I still do. Of course, education is far more important than dating and kissing and all of that seemingly teenage girl fantasy stuff. But it isn’t totally insignificant. It can actually be beneficial in some ways. Anyways, we’re not even there yet, so I’ll stop babbling and focus on the important stuff.

Like that week.

I walked into school the next day, unable to get Beach Boy out of my head, which was ridiculous, considering I favored school over boys. For some reason, I kept seeing his smile and his hand. For some reason, I regretted not staying and actually stirring up a conversation for once in my life.

Jemma Rodriquez, my best friend and probably the best conversation-starter I knew, strutted up beside me and looped her arm through mine as we reached homeroom. She was sporting a new skirt, denim and, of course, mini. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail that ran down her back, falling between her two pronounced shoulder blades that poked out from behind her pink tank top.

She looked over at my white pants and blue top, shrugging. “Don’t know when it will hit you,”

“What?”

“High school is a runway,” she said. “You best flaunt before it’s over.”

I rolled my eyes. “High school is not a runway. Some of us actually care about learning here,”

“So,” Jemma sat down in one of the front desks and turn to me, totally ignoring everything I just said. “Tell me more about this mysterious boy at the beach,”

I sat down beside her, placing my knapsack at my feet and squirming on the cold chair before I felt comfortable. I sighed, looking over at Jemma. “I told you, it was nothing. He was just there when I woke up.”

“Sent by God,” she said. “This boy was sent by God,”

“Could you keep your voice down?” I said, eyeing those around me.