Sweet Wipeout

Sweet Tony

          Tony's POV (The Next Day)

     I woke up early this morning to surf alone at the beach. I eat a little snack before I go, but then I just remembered. There was a party there last night, so what if it's messy?

     After I finished my snack, I look out my bedroom window and checked out the beach. Mark and I can see the beach in our bedroom windows, but he has a better view of it, even though he sometimes say that I have the better view.

     I was right, the beach was MESSY, and I don't like surfing on a messy beach. So I go in the kitchen, grab a trash bag and my surfboard, and head out to the beach.

     The sun had just rose an hour ago so it's pretty bright outside. I got to the beach, set my surfboard down, and picked up some trash. As I was picking up the trash, I see something a little buried under the trash and sand. I pull it up and it was Mark's surfboard.

     I turn around and was about to put his surfboard next to mine, then here he comes, stumbling a little in his steps.

"Hey bro." He greeted, his voice sounds a little slurred.

"Morning!" I waved then he got closer to me. He looked awful. His face looks all tired, and dark. It made me a little sad to look at, and I usually love looking at his beautiful face. "What happened to you?" I asked in concern.

"Nothing, just partied a little too hard last night. Anyway, I think I left my surfboard here, have you seen it?"

"Yeah, it's right here." I pointed to it, and he picked it up.

"Thanks. Whatcha doing here?"

"Well, I was gonna surf alone, since I'd figure you would be tired from the party. But before I do, I'm gonna pick up all this trash." I turn around and start picking up trash again.

     Mark rubbed his eyes. "You don't have to do that. It's not your mess, we'll clean it up later."

"No it's fine, I don't like surfing on a messy beach, so I don't mind."

"Well, do you want me to help?"

"Although it would be nice if you did, but if you're too tired or don't feel like it, it's fine, you don't have to." I shrugged.

     He was quiet about it for a while, then put his surfboard down, and picked up trash with me. I smiled a little and opened the trash bag as he put it in there.

"How was the party?" I asked after a while.

"It was a'ight." He answered tired and bored like.

     I see something brown and glass like in the sand, so I picked it up and it was a beer bottle!

"Um Mark? Did y'all have this in the party?" I asked, holding up the bottle.

He looked up, then answered casually, "Yeah, why?"

"Did you have some?" My voice shook a little.

"Yes, but only a little bit."

     I huffed. That explains why he stumbles while he walked, slurred his words, and look like crap, no offense, I still like him. "Mark! What the hell were you doing drinking this??"

"I was a little too in the moment. Plus I meant to take a tiny sip, but that tiny sip turned into a little more than that."

"Even if it was a little tiny sip, you aren't supposed to be drinking this!" I yelled angrily, tears were starting to flow from my eyes. Even if it wasn't that much, one day it could be come a lot. I don't want my best friend to be an alcoholic.