Can't Get Enough [Wattpad Featured Story]

Chapter Eight

"Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor: if either of them falls down, one can help the other up." – Ecclesiastes 4:9-10

Alana lazily scrolled down the YouTube channel. Nothing of interest had caught her eye for the past ten minutes. She sighed and typed something else into the search box: surfing lower trestles. Immediately, a new batch of videos popped up on the screen.

Her eyes were starting to grow tired from staring at her computer for so long, but what else could she do? Dylan was at work, Tammy was at a friend's house, and the waves were flat. It was a warm summer day, and Alana was beginning to get stir-crazy from doing nothing all morning.

She sighed and glanced over at her digital clock. "Only 10:15?" she muttered. "Great."

She was running out of ideas to kill time. Her gaze landed on a YouTube video that looked promising, so she clicked on the link. The film showed a group of professional surfers carving up some perfect rights. Now that's my kind of video, Alana thought with a smile.

And it definitely didn't disappoint. Alana watched, transfixed, as the surfers carved wave after perfect wave. "Wow," she breathed. "I wish I was at Lowers right now..." The water was glassy, the waves were peeling, and the conditions were epic—what more could a surfer wish for?

Alana sighed wistfully as the video came to a close. Quietly shutting her laptop, she swung her legs over the side of her bed and walked over to the window. It was a nice summer day, and it would have been perfect except for one thing.

No waves.

She chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully. Pulling out her phone, she checked to see if she had any new texts or calls, but there was nothing. It had been two days since the meeting at The Habit, and everyone was able to go except the twins. They still hadn't gotten back to Alana. She knew Blaine was eager to go on the surf trip, but as for Cole...she could only pray that Blaine would convince him to come.

The ocean shimmered in the bright sunlight, and Alana's attention was pulled to a few small waves breaking close to shore. It was nearing low tide, and hardly any waves were trickling in.

It was something, though. After a few seconds' deliberation, she replaced her tank top with a rashguard and slipped out of her jean shorts. She dashed into the garage and pulled out the biggest longboard she had—a wide, single-fin, ten-footer with a couple dings on the rails.

She knew it was crazy, but she just couldn't resist. Even though the waves were small, it was a beautiful day outside, and it would help get her mind off the surfing safari she'd been so frantically planning.

Alana tucked the longboard underneath her arm and strode out of the garage, making sure to close it behind her. As the warm sunrays hit her tan skin, she smiled and headed towards the water's edge. The only surfers in the water were two beginners on foamboards—not exactly a suitable lineup. But Alana wasn't there to be professional; she was there to relax. The ocean was her place of rejuvenation, only outmatched by her time with God.

Humming a tune, Alana jogged down a flight of steps and ran past two teenage boys throwing a football. Upon jumping in the water, she began paddling on her knees until she heard one of them give a shout.

Alana turned and realized they were talking to her. "Hey, what are you doing?" the taller of the two asked.

"Surfing, can't you tell?" she laughed.