Ghost Writer [Harry Styles][H.S. Fanfic]

1 - PEOPLE LIKE US

"She's hot, and she looks fun. Maybe one of us should go talk to her... and by one of us, I mean me. I'll be right back." Niall starts jogging in her direction but stops as the loudspeaker sounds.

"Next up, the girl you've all been waiting for, and our favorite little Fireball... Sunny Anderson!" The announcer introduces the next surfer, and the girl we were all just staring at snatches her board from the sand and secures it under her arm.

As she runs to the water, she throws up her middle finger to the crowd and they all return the gesture, smiling and cheering wildly.

Who is this girl?

She paddles out into the water, ducking under the oncoming waves as they roll toward her, making me a bit nervous when she's under. I know the undertow here can be really dangerous, but she clearly knows what she's doing.

Once she surfaces and arrives at her destination, she shifts her board to face the beach, but turns her head toward the tide behind her, watching for her next opportunity.

When the water begins to rise, she charges toward the left shoulder full force, and jumps to her feet, dropping in as the swell breaks. Her board carves into the wave sharply as she maneuvers her legs upward and whips her body meticulously. She rides toward the center, which is forming a tunnel, and she crouches down, disappearing from view.

Liam grabs my shoulder anxiously and I hold my breath, not used to seeing waves of this magnitude. But my lungs instinctively release it when I hear shouting from the crowd seconds later.

Sunny emerges on the other end, standing straight when she's in the clear and has a massive grin plastered to her face. She howls out, pumping her fist in the air before throwing up her middle fingers once more and the crowd loses their shit.

"And that's how it's done, folks!" We hear again over the speakers.

The guys and I smile widely in astonishment and applaud. She salutes the crowd and crosses her arms over her chest, falling backwards into the shallow water. She made it look effortless, like she was a fish born out of water.

The announcer calls the next person up, but all of our focus is turned to the same girl when she hauls her board from the water, unfastening the tie around her ankle. Her team gathers around her, sharing high fives while someone grabs her board to set it up for another round of photos.

She's obviously a professional based on the posse surrounding her, along with being completely decked out from head to toe in famous surf brands.

A guy with short blonde hair hands her a towel so she can dry off and wring the excess water from her hair. She takes a brown leather backpack from him, slinging it over her shoulder, and then tucks her board under her arm again. They walk in our direction, laughing and bantering back and forth before they part ways, and she continues toward our cabana.

"That was fucking sick!" Louis yells out to her, drawing her attention towards us.

A wicked smile takes over her lips, and she jogs the short distance to our small group. I can't help but wonder if she knows who we are.

"You made that wave your bitch," Niall follows.

"I know," she states proudly, undoubtedly aware of her raw talent. She drops the board in the sand in front of us and holds out her hand to each of us to shake, getting our names. "I'm Sunny. Y'all aren't from around here, are you?"

"Says the girl with the southern accent," Liam quips, making her smirk.

"You caught me. I'm not a local, but I've been here for about five or six years, and I rip better than most of 'em. You're a little far from home though. What brings you to paradise?" She's panting heavily through her unwavering smile, still feeling the rush of adrenaline I'm sure. She surveys us questioningly, standing with her hands resting on her hips.