Cliché (Player Next Door Spinoff)

| 02 | Surfing Before I Came

Wooo we are getting into the story!  Can't wait for this...

Chapter 02: Surfing Before I Came

Austin Taylor.

The son of my mom's best friend.

The boy I've been crushing on since I was young enough to crush.

Let's put an age on that... 10? Is that the earliest I've crushed on a guy?

Does Miley Cyrus count?

Barney?

Barney wasn't a crush though. Bit weird that my mind went straight to a purple dinosaur.

"Hi," I repeated, staring up at him.

He's about seven inches taller than me, like the length of a head.

I tried not to focus too much on his head. Or his eyes, since they were practically hypnotic. I looked at his lips, how they seem seconds away from curling into a playful smile.

And I didn't want to look any further down because he was still wearing his navy zip-up hoodie... unzipped...

In the years that we hadn't seen each other, Austin had grown from a hyper kid into a muscular guy. He was older than me and he used to lord that "wisdom" over me.

The last time he saw me, I was probably in my polly pocket era. Neon green, pink and yellow all in one outfit.

Pigtails maybe.

He spoke with a faint smile, "You've grown, Lara." 

I got chills from his smile. Or the air con. 

I mean, seriously, my mom turns this place into an ice cube in summer.

The living room was bathed in natural light pouring through large windows. Near the windows, a hammock chair rocked in the artificial breeze that the air con generated.  

An antique telescope stood tall in one corner and the floor beneath us was glass, with a smooth mosaic of driftwood, beach pebbles and delicate seashells underneath. Mom's artwork was plastered in a giant canvas on one side of the room, taking up the space of the entire wall.  

The beach house has been my home since as long as I could remember.

Now, Austin Taylor was here and, this time, it sounded like we would be sharing it. 

Before we could say much more, one of the floor-to-ceiling windows opened, and my dad strolled in. Technically, it was a door.  A back door that could only be opened by someone with the right fingerprints. Family.

Normally I'd get nervous if dad walks in on me with a guy but, technically, Austin was mom's guest. And dad knew Austin well.

Dad was in loose, brown pants that he rolled up to his knees and slip on loafers.  It was funny watching him greet Austin like an adult this time. And it was odd seeing Austin taller than my dad.

After they exchanged a few words, he asked mom to step outside.

Our living room had these large glass windows that overlooked the back garden and I watched mom and dad walk down a cobbled path, stopping to talk to each other more privately next to some lavender bushes. 

Watching them through the window, encased in a window frame, was like watching a moving painting.

I stared at them for as long as I could to avoid the fact that it was just Austin and me in a room together, and I had zero clue what to say to him.