The Bad Boy's A Softie

I

It was the last day of summer and I was sitting on my back porch watching the sunset in the distance. It slowly sank into the horizon over the clear blue ocean as I moved my brush across the canvas with slow sliding motions. I always loved painting. As a child, surfing and painting were my top priorities and I knew that I either wanted to be an artist or a surf instructor when I grew up.

          Since summer was quickly coming to an end, I wanted to get one last painting in before I would head off to school for my final year. My last first day of highschool was coming up tomorrow and I was actually pretty excited. My last year in high school would have to be the best. I mean, come on, it's the last year before I have to leave my hometown and go to college. I was praying that this year would turn out the way I wanted it to, but you never know what bumps and bridges you'll have to walk on the path you take.

          As I finished the last few waves on the canvas, I heard a voice from behind me, snapping me back into reality. I dropped my brush, getting wet, blue paint on my apron. I instantly picked the sandy paintbrush back up, sighing in frustration as I placed it on the table and turned around to see who was behind me.

"You've been out here for two hours now, Willow, don't you think it's time to come inside and take a break?" My mom said, crossing her arms. Her dirty blonde hair was up in a messy ponytail and her shirt was covered in wet paint. My mom was my best friend. She was always there for me, no matter what. We look just like each other, I'm practically a mini version of my mother. The only difference is that I have brown eyes like my dad, while she has bright blue ones. I looked down at her arms, seeing that they were also covered in a lemon-colored paint, just like her shirt was. My mom had been repainting the house for the past month a light yellow color and today she was finishing her last room, the kitchen.

"Sorry Mom, I just wanted to paint the last sunset of summer." I turned back to the water, watching the sun as it slowly lowered itself behind the waves. I live on a private beach with my parents. I love the water, I always have. I mean, I was basically raised to love it. I turned back to my mom, my blonde hair flipping behind my back.

"Well, hurry inside, It's getting late and you don't want to miss your big day tomorrow, do you?" She walked up to me, putting an arm around my shoulders, helping me gather my supplies to take them into the house.

I smiled and turned to her as we walked inside. Placing my paintbrushes and paint on the counter, I followed my mom into the kitchen. She headed over to the sink, dousing her hands with soap and turning the warm water on. "Hey Mom, I've been meaning to ask you something," I said as I untied my apron and rehung it up. "But first, you know that you are my favorite person ever and I couldn't ask for a better momma, right?" I grinned, jumping up on the countertop, letting my legs dangle off the side.

"Hey, what about me? I thought I was the best one here," I heard my dad say as he walked into the kitchen with a clear pout on his face. I rolled my eyes at him jokingly and turned back to my mom. She sighed and turned off the water, wiping her hands off with a clean washcloth before placing them on her hips and looking directly at me. "What do you want, Willow?"

No going back now. You already started and she's already giving you 'the look.' Just say it.

Listening to my conscious, I cleared my throat and made eye contact with my mom. "You know it's my last year of highschool, and i've gotten such good grades, and I don't yanno go out and drink and go behind your back like ever, so do you think that maybe, just maybe, I could get that surfboard?" I ended with a awkward smile that quickly faded when I saw my mom shaking her head. "Willow, I told you many times that we simply cannot afford it right now. I know you have been asking me for a while but I don't think-," She stopped herself mid-sentence, as if she remembered something important, turning her head to my dad.