Fighting the Waves (On Hold)

Fighting the Waves ~ Chapter 8

~ Dedicated to DoubleRainbow because she's freaking awesome! And she's got a pretty great story which I help her edit sometimes so you should really check it out! ~

I rolled my eyes as I turned on to my street. Seconds later, I pulled into my driveway. Killing the ignition, I hopped out and jogged to the other side of the car. 

Cole opened his door as I grabbed his crutches out from the backseat for him. "You don't have to do that." he grumbled. 

I laughed. I guess he wasn't used to people doing things for him or something. "Maybe I want to." I said, sticking my tongue out at him. 

He chuckled. "Are you sure this is okay?" I asked, his expression becoming rather nervous. 

Right as I was about to respond, I heard the front door slam and my Dad calling my name. He ran over to me and hugged me tight, squeezing the breath out if me and causing my eyes to pop out of my head and sighed with relief. 

"Thank God, you're alright. You had me so worried today, Lo." he frowned. 

"Dad, I told you, I'm fine." I smiled reassuringly. His eyes flickered to Cole seemingly noticing him for the first time as he stood there, leaning on his crutches awkwardly.  

"Who's this? Is this the boy you saved today, Lo? I thought you said you were going to give him a ride home?" he asked, confused. 

"Yeah, I was, but he recently moved here and didn't really know his way home. So, I decided it was better to just let him spend the night here, rather than wandering around the island until he figured out where we were going. Is that okay?" 

"Yes, it's fine. Good choice. If you hadn't been home soon, who knows what I would've done." he chortled. 

I laughed. "No doubt have had the whole island searching for me." I grinned and glanced at Cole. He looked like he felt extremely out of place. 

"Cole this is my dad, Quinton Hale. Dad, Cole Nelson." Cole shifted his weight so he could shake hands with my dad using his left. 

"Hello, Sir. Thank you for allowing me to stay tonight. If it weren't for your daughter, I would've died today." He said, sounding formal and serious, making me struggle to stifle a giggle. 

"Ugh. None of that 'Sir' crap. Call me, Quincy. You're more than welcome. From what I hear, you got lucky, Kid. It's a good thing Lo inherited her mother's kickass surfing skills." He laughed and ran a hand through his dark hair, but I could tell there was some pain in his eyes, reminding me that Cole didn't know that my mother was dead.  

Cole laughed too, dragging me out of my gloomy spacing-out. His laugh was so warm and comforting; I swore it could cheer me up even in my worst of moods (which, I'm telling you, are not pretty). 

I smiled and said, "Come on, let's go inside. It's a bit too cold for me. I swear I retain no body heat. And I'm sure your aunt and uncle are freaking out, so you should probably call them, Cole." 

"Right." 

We headed inside and I noticed Cole grimacing a bit from having to use the crutches with a sprained wrist. 

As soon as I walked through the door, I was bombarded with the familiar scent two four year-olds. 

"Logggg!" My adorable twin brothers exclaimed slamming into my legs and wrapping themselves around them.  

"Log, where were you? You didn't read to us." Evan stared up at me with wide hazel eyes. His silky red hair was ruffled and he was adorned in the Superman footie pajamas that I gotten him for Christmas last year. They were getting a bit small on him.