Chasing Forever Down (Great White Surf Saga, #1) [Wattpad Featured Story] | ✔

Chapter 8: Operation Party Boy

My car's headlights flash across the parking lot that was reserved for tonight. I hold up my VIP ticket to my window, and the security guard waves us through. The music up the street beats over the sound of my car's engine. Linzi twists and turns, trying to adjust her pink tank top over her bikini top.

"Let me text Alston before we get out. We don't want to walk around like losers looking for him," she says.

We wait in the car, and Linzi's face glows a bright shade of blue from the light of her cell phone. He replies in a matter of seconds telling us to head down the block, and he'll meet us halfway. Pink and orange Christmas lights wrap around the palm trees, and the DJ's bass vibrates through my flip flops. A fast-forward montage of cover bands, lead guitarist Barney, and TheKeeganLawrence flash through my mind. I have this sudden urge to crash the DJ booth and request a Moonlight song, but I doubt Mr. DJ-Wannabe-Rapper has any Moonlight tracks in his queue.

Alston waves over a crowd of people and pushes through toward us. Reed is just a few steps behind him with his cell phone to one ear and a finger in the other to drown out the noise.

"Glad you could make it," Alston says, wrapping his arm around Linzi's shoulder. "We're going to show you how west coast people party."

The breeze picks up just long enough to kick the scent of Alston's pineapple shampoo into the wind. It's the scent of Colby Taylor's hair. He glances back at Reed. "Any word from A.J.?"

Reed shrugs and shakes his head. "He's not answering his phone. It's not like him to miss a party, though."

For a VIP block party on the beach, this place is pretty crowded. I follow behind Alston and Linzi in that awkward tag-along kind of way while Reed makes a point to speak to everyone we pass. So much for employing the buddy system. We cut between two condominiums, and for a second, I feel like I'm in Hollywood. Floor-to-ceiling windows reflect the diamond-white sand and blackened nighttime water. Sky roofs provide a perfect view of the summer stars. Swimming pools in random shapes – angelfishes and sailboats – are planted behind each house, surrounded by tiki torches, palm trees, and hibiscus flowers.

"And this is home sweet home," Alston says, more to Linzi than anyone else.

He points to the next condo down, and it's as perfect as the ones we just cut between. Their seashell-shaped swimming pool is hidden inside a privacy fence, and I'm instantly jealous that guys who can't be much older than myself can afford to live here. Then again, I'm sure Colby Taylor is footing the bill for them to keep their mouths shut and keep the random girls away.

Reed unlocks the back door, and we follow them inside. Their bachelor pad isn't the trashed out dorm room I'd expected. It's freaking immaculate, probably kept up by some highly paid foreign maid named Eliana or something else pretty and exotic. A yellow Surfer Crossing sign, like the one at Great White Surf, and random video games are the only things that scream out bachelor pad.

I leave my keys and cell phone on their kitchen counter, per Alston's persuasion, and follow the guys onto the beach. I check behind Reed to make sure he really did lock the door. Theft isn't exactly something I can afford right now. A crowd plays volleyball with a beach ball out in the sand, and another group splashes in the dark ocean. We trudge through the sand, past a blazing bonfire, until we're far enough away from the DJ booth that I can't feel its vibrations anymore.

We venture inside a rustic wooden beach house. Alston grabs a beer out of a red cooler, and Linzi accepts the offer for one even though she hates the taste of beer. Alston makes the rounds, clinking his beer bottle against those of others, slapping a few high fives with his other hand, and still manages to keep his arm perfectly draped over my best friend's shoulder. Our final destination is a pool table.