Ocean waves (poppy tetanui)

2 🌧️

As I stepped out of the car, my eyes widened in amazement at the sight of the house we were going to stay at. "Wow, this is... wow," I said, unable to contain my awe. Mom chuckled at my reaction and headed towards the entrance. I grabbed my bags and followed her inside, with Summer by my side. "Respect, Margot. This is a legit party house," Summer said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. I nodded, still taking in the beauty of the place.

Mom turned to us with a slight smile. "Mm hm. Everything else was booked out. And there is a strict no-party policy," she said, her tone hinting at the disappointment we all felt.

"Damn it, there's the downside," I muttered. Summer glanced at me and then looked out the window, her face reflecting a mix of determination and frustration.

"Well, how else are we going to celebrate when I make the team?" she asked, her voice firm. "You crashed Poppy's final, so try the top of their blacklist. And your sister backed you up." She looked at me pointedly.

I raised my hands in mock innocence. "I'm not related to anyone you’re talking about," I said, trying to deflect the blame. Mom just gave me another look, one that said she wasn't buying it.

Summer sighed. "I really wish you'd seen me, Ma, instead of sitting in the car, working."

Mom's expression softened. "I'm sure you were great. But, Summer, if you genuinely want to be a competitive surfer, there is a right way to do things and a wrong way. The surf industry likes to paint themselves as a bunch of system-bucking rebels, but, honey, believe me, they're not going to fall over themselves for some rookie who rips up their rule book. Especially a young woman."

"Whoa, that last part I don't agree with, thank you very much," I interjected. Summer continued and said "Things have changed since you were on tour, Ma."

Mom sighed. "Well, it was still this millennium. Come on. Let's just have fun for the next couple of weeks." She looked at both of us with a hopeful smile.

"Weeks?" I thought to myself, frowning. Summer voiced my thoughts aloud. "You mean a couple of months."

Mom hesitated. "Well, that was when we thought you had a shot at Nationals, so..."

"Well, Summer, you've got school, and Cameron, you have finals for lacrosse. Let's just be realistic," she said, her tone final.

I frowned. "Well, technically, I'd rather surf than play lacrosse. And technically, you did say months. And Summer has a good shot at making finals. It's not fair to not believe in her because of one thing she did."

Mom's glare silenced me instantly. She picked up her bags and walked away to find a room. Summer looked at me, frustration etched on her face. "I hate being realistic," she muttered.

"And positive," I added with a smirk. Summer rolled her eyes and threw a grape at me as she rummaged through the fridge. I shrugged. "Just saying."

I grabbed my stuff and started down the long hallway, admiring the paintings on the walls. After passing a few doors, I stopped beside one that was open and peeked inside. The room was decorated in shades of gray and black, with a bed against one wall and a large painting of a surfer above it. Intrigued, I stepped inside and noticed two doors. Curious, I went to the first one and discovered a beautifully designed bathroom. "Macaroni, this is beautiful," I said, marveling at the luxurious fixtures.

I walked to the second door and found a spacious closet. I took my bags and started unpacking, but decided to leave the rest for later. There was plenty of time to settle in.

I walked out of my room and down the hallway, my footsteps soft against the carpet. As I reached the kitchen, I saw Summer rummaging through the fridge. “Hey, Summer,” I called out.