American Girl

Hawaii

The fierce wind blew Keke Alika's long black hair into a halo above her head. She stood on the beach with her surfboard beneath her arm. The whitecapped waves crashed against the shore and rolled back into themselves. Keke planted her feet firmly. The hurricane-force winds buffeted her long-tanned legs with sharp sand shards.

"You're crazy," Warren Bickle yelled over the wind.

Keke glanced at him through the strands of her blowing hair. She'd met Warren and his friends two nights ago in the hotel Tiki Bar where she worked. Although she worked in the tourist industry, she didn't particularly like the vacationers she served. The fact that Warren followed her onto the beach annoyed her.

The hurricane remained offshore. Only the outer bands reached the Hawaiian Islands. The high waves were perfect for surfing. Keke wanted to use the opportunity before the storm began in earnest.

"Go back inside," she yelled into the wind. "It's not safe."

"If it's unsafe, what are you doing out here?" Warren returned, striding across the beach.

"I'm a professional surfer," Keke answered. "Go back to the hotel."

"I've done my share of surfing," her unwanted companion answered, ignoring her instructions.

Keke grimaced. Practically every tourist who visited Hawaii claimed he or she could surf. Most of them made fools of themselves on the smallest waves. Entreating Warren to return to safety one more time, Keke ran into the surf. She threw herself onto her board and paddled into the strong current. Gauging the waves, she chose wisely and rose to her feet.

The wave heightened, carrying her upward. She positioned herself on her board and noticed Warren astride a board he 'borrowed' from the hotel. He stood on wobbly legs as a low swell lifted him. Instead of gaining his footing, he fell. The board drifted away. He doggy-paddled toward it.

"Stupid," Keke muttered, riding the tall wave. She passed Warren on her way toward shore. A wave overcame him, and his small head disappeared. Keke dove into the water and swam strongly toward him. Grabbing him under the arms, she towed him onto the beach.

"What happened?" Warren's friend Shelley asked, squatting beside Keke.

"Your friend can't follow instructions," the young surfer spat out. Keke reached a point beyond frustration. "He was nearly drowned out there."

Shelley looked at Keke skeptically. Although she only knew Warren for a few months, she believed his boasts about surfing. He told her he won a competition at Surfer's Paradise in Australia. There was a picture of him receiving a trophy on his Facebook page.

"You're kidding," Shelley snapped, rising. "Warren's a champion surfer. It says so on Facebook."

Keke began to respond but held her tongue. His earlier performance proved he didn't have the skill to surf and had probably never rode a wave in his life.

"The best place for you is in the hotel," Keke said instead. Warren sat up and gazed around uncomprehendingly. "Take your boyfriend with you. And put that board back where he found it."

"Don't get sharp with me," Shelley snapped back. She stood to her full height, her blond hair billowing out behind her. "You don't know who we are."

"Tourists," Keke spit out. Without awaiting a response, she hurried toward her surfboard. Luckily, it had washed up with the hotel board.

"My father is Milbourne Blanche," Shelley stated, appearing at Keke's side. "Do you know who he is? He owns Blanche Pharmaceuticals. You've heard of Blanche Pharmaceuticals, right? And he's Warren Bickle. His father is a billionaire. You can't order us around. You're nobody...a little Hawaiian bartender."