A/N: This one shot was just to get be sort of back in the mood for writing this summer. Thank you to anybody who reads it. Leave me feedback if you want. :)
Warnings: Language. Mentions of sex.
Word Count: 2,928
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There's something strangely intoxicating about the beach in the early hours of the morning. It's that kind of something you kindly welcome into your life, whether you experience it every day or not. People rave about going to the beach for a vacation, but take it from somebody who's finally living her dream, it's much better all year round.
California was never meant to be just a one or two time thing. Ever since I was young, I envisioned myself on one of the many beaches here. Relaxing. Surfing. Maybe writing. I wanted to be the girl that nobody knew, so I could make a new name for myself. A getaway of sorts.
My hometown consisted of miles of country land. You know, the kind that people call beautiful and wonder why anybody would move away? Yeah, that kind of country land. Truth was, and still is, I was never meant for that place. My calling was the west coast and I could have cared less what anybody thought about my decision.
I left on a whim one day, in the middle of the summer after my senior year of high school. All people were talking about was college, relationships, the fucking future. My breaking point had been reached long before that, but when all my friends suddenly left to check out their next beginning, I realized I didn't really have one. It's been a whole year since then, and I still keep in contact with my friends and mom, but it's not the same, it never will be.
And now I'm here. Working in a surfboard shop and writing books that will never in a million years be published.
***
"Krystal, where's that surfboard we were keeping on hold? He's here to pick it up." I sighed at Louis' lack of work ethic. He knew exactly where the surfboard was, but did he care enough to walk five yards to retrieve it? Most definitely not.
I closed my laptop and grabbed what was left of my coffee, realizing it was actually time to work. Business around here didn't really pick up until 9 a.m., take or leave an hour. My hair blew in the comfy breeze that came from one of the many windows we always left open in the shop. Opening the back storage closet, I grabbed the less than worth-it surfboard and rolled my eyes at the customer's lack of knowledge. "Here we are." I mumbled, carrying it over to the payee.
"Thanks, man." He looked straight at Louis, like I was some imbecile who didn't know anything about anything. Men, they're all the same, aren't they? Idiots.
Mr. I'm-Too-Sexy-For-My-Shirt finally strolled his ass out of the shop five minutes later, after chatting it up with girls who most definitely knew absolutely nothing about surfing. Yet, what they lacked in knowledge, they made up for in looks. Pretty little blonde and pretty little brunette left right behind him, arguing over dibs. Come to think of it, maybe girls are just as bad as men. It's a hard knock life.
"The whole men vs. women argument got you down again?" I jumped at the sudden question. Louis loved to mess with people. Hell, he probably considered it one of his pastimes, but all in all he was a great friend and made the best fake IDs that California has ever seen. When I first got here, Louis was the first person I'd come across after I arrived. He offered me a home, a job, and even a surfboard when I explained my troubles. It turns out he's pretty great in bed, too, but that was a one time thing that we swore to secrecy a long time ago.
"Hello? Krystal?" I realized that I had been dazed, thinking about the past, which was something I tried my hardest not to do.
"Oh, yeah." His face told me he wasn't buying it, "Well, that, and the fact I'm not a "Ms. Pretty Little insert hair color here" type. Is that what guys really want?" Sympathy was always one of Louis' strong suits, but sadly it was something I could not stand. That look in people's eyes just makes me want to smack them across the face. I could take care of myself. "Just, nevermind." I stated, changing the subject. "Let's clean up the shop a bit."
