Nathan
There are days where I desire the shore, to lay on the warm, moist grains of sand, and stare at the water flow into the shore. The bright ball of gas above me shined onto the beach, warming the water and sand.
The golden sand burned my tan skin, but the burning grains felt familiar underneath me.
The waves rolled onto the shore, washing away all the children's sand castles and taking the plastic shovels that were left near the water.
There were many boats zooming across the water in the distance, and many surfers trying to catch waves.
Many teenagers or young adults were with there significant other, kissing, hugging, or just spending time with each other in front of the beach.
Considering that it is a Monday afternoon, after school, it is very crowded on the beach. Everywhere I looked was a new crowd of people.
I didn't mind being around so many people. I came to the beach to think, and the crowd of people doesn't bother me.
No one is interacting with me, so I'm fine right now.
I shut my dark brown eyes, listening closely to the water, chatter, and screams.
I spent most of my childhood on the beach, running around and collecting broken seashells. After every basketball game on a weekend, I would go to the beach with my dad.
Sometimes if I was good for an entire week, my mom would surprise me by taking me to the beach after Church on Sunday afternoons.
But now, the beach is somewhere I visit to clear my head when I've had too much.
The puffy, white clouds were scattered across the sky but sadly didn't cover a sliver of the scorching sun.
The beach always brought back memories. Some good, some bad, and some just there.
I've never really liked swimming or going in the water. I always have the feeling that I'm going to get eaten by a huge shark or stung by a deadly jellyfish.
Even though there have never been reports of shark attacks or jellyfish, better safe than sorry.
"Nathan?"
The voice made my breath hitch and my throat tighten.
It couldn't be.
His usual blonde hair was damp, not styled, and a dirty blonde color from the wetness. Drops of salty water stuck to his chest and torso.
A blue and red surfboard was in his hands, the board covered in sand.
His usual pale skin looked more tan than the last time I saw him, but it could've just been the lighting that made him look pale at the time.
Bryce Miller was fucking hot.
"Hey."
Bryce blinked a few times, "making sure I wasn't hallucinating. I've been out in the sun too long."
"That's not good," I commented, looking at the sun. "What brings you here?"
"I was surfing." Bryce lifted the board in his hand. "But the waves are dying so I stopped." Bryce looked at me, his pale blue eyes meeting mine for a brief second.
But for that brief second, I felt lost in his eyes. His eyes were like sapphires surrounded by soft clouds.
Bryce had breathtaking, stunning, blue eyes.
"What brings you here?" Bryce questions, clearing his throat.
"Just need somewhere to clear my head." I shrug, "and somewhere to get away from my family."
