lifeguard ● harry styles au

four- fear

four- fear

song for this chapter: "girls" by The 1975

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I ran my fingertips across the smooth surface of each surfboard, trying to use a non-existent sixth sense to work out which one felt right. But none did.

"They're just not...the same." I said, feeling a little bad at declining so many of my dad's own creations.

"Well they're not going to be the same. Your old one is long gone now and you need a new one." My dad said, a small smile on his lips.

I was glad he didn't take it personally. Don't get me wrong, all these boards leaning against the walls and stacked on tables were great, perfect for anybody else - all but me. I knew I sounded horribly spoilt and my desire for my old surf board was pointless (as it was currently snapped into tiny, sharp fragments of wood dotted in the sea). But I felt incomplete. Maybe I simply won't find a perfect one again. Perhaps it's impossible.

"Help me out here." My dad pleaded, waving his arms about to exaggerate just how many boards there were. I looked around helplessly before seeing one a little better than the others in the corner.

"Ur, that one?" I said, pointing to a pale mint green one with sharp fins and a perfectly curved body.

My dad's eyes lit up when he saw what I was pointing at. He jumped over to it and held it with outstretched arms to admire it's shape.

"Good choice." He replied, a fond look in his eyes as he patted the top with a firm slap of his palm.

I gave him a forced smile as he paid for the board, passing it to me afterwards to hold. It fit snugly under my arm but for some reason felt unnatural. I felt like I couldn't hold it right, like I was doing it wrong.

"Are you going to test it out?" My dad asked while we walked the short distance back to the house.

"Er, probably not, ya know. Bit tired and stuff." I said, casting my eyes to my toes while walking past the sea. I needed new shoes. They were scuffing at the edges and grains of sand had managed to wedge themselves inside every inch of -

"Ivy?"

"Huh?"

"Are you coming in?"

It took me a moment to realise we had reached the house and I smiled sheepishly, walking in and finding my bedroom. I leant the board against the wall and picked up my phone to ring Zayn.

"Vee!" He responded on the line.

"Alright?" I asked.

"Yeah thanks. You coming down later?"

I swallowed, memories of thrashing waves and raw desperation clouding my mind.

"Erm, maybe, I don't know. I might have plans." I said, cringing as soon as I said it.

"You? Plans? That don't include me?" He said, his voice a mixture of disbelief and amusement.

"M'tired, okay?"

"Oh yeah, shit, of course you are, sorry."

"Whatever," I brushed it off. "You coming down for tea later?"

"What you having?"

"Pea soup."

I could just picture Zayn crinkling his nose in disgust as silence filled the phone.

"Erm, maybe not -"

"Please. You can stay for a sleepover and we can watch movies like old times!" I said, involuntary sounding more desperate than excited. He sighed.