"I swear I was shacking out of my mind and it was spitting barrels like you wouldn't believe!"
I take a sip of my water, nodding along despite having no idea what Andy is saying.
"Then I went to jam it off the top, you know, to go for a carve, and I was throwing buckets! For real, Haven, it was gnarly. You wouldn't believe."
I pause before responding, waiting to make sure he's done.
"That sounds... great, Andy, really," I say. "Isn't it kind of cold to surf? I mean, it is November."
"An outsider might think so," Andy responds, "but in SoCal, the best conditions are actually in fall. Winter has some weather problems occasionally, but usually there are just enough storms to keep the waves coming."
He prattles on and on about how waves in California go through periods of flatness because of the storm patterns.
I sigh, wondering how much longer he can go on about surfing.
At first, the cliché California surfer dude was a large part of Andy's appeal. He's clearly found his passion in life, because it's all he can seem to talk about.
"I can take you to Huntington Beach sometime," he tells me, smiling as his words slow down now.
Andy and I went to get dinner at a cute local restaurant, and I had pretty high hopes for the date when we got here. It's an adorable, colorful bistro with some really great food.
I've honestly had a lot of fun with him when he wasn't talking about surfing. I made the mistake of asking about his day, which consisted of ditching school to go surf because the waves were good.
He's been very chivalrous and kind the entire evening, insisting on opening the door for me and pulling out my chair. I just need to find a way to switch the subject.
"Yeah, maybe we can do that sometime," I cut him off in the middle of a sentence, not feeling bad. "I meant to ask you before, what about your parents?"
He doesn't look annoyed or offended that I cut him off, just surprised at my question. "My family?"
"Yeah, you've hardly mentioned your family. Are you close with your parents? Do you have any siblings?" I try and lead him into a different topic.
"Um, well..." He thinks about it. "My mom and I are really close. It's sick. She's the best. I have never met a better woman in my entire life."
I nod, trying to listen now that Andy isn't droning on about surfing. We've been at dinner for an hour and a half, with at least half of that being surf-talk.
"I can't imagine living away from her," he adds. "She does everything for me. My laundry, the cooking, cutting my hair, even helps me with my homework."
My eyebrows raise in surprise. "Wow, she's a dedicated mom. My mom barely has time to do her own laundry." I laugh, thinking about my family. I've done my own laundry since I was eleven, and I usually get stuck doing Ethan's.
"That's why I'm thinking about going to Anaheim University next year," Andy tells me. "So I can stay close to my family."
"Aw, you must be really close with your family," I tell him, marveling at his announcement. I love my family, a lot, but I couldn't live with them after high school.
"Just my mom, really. Family's never been my, like, main focus in life, you know? I mean, it's important, sure, but there's so much else in the world to worry about."
Like surfing? I retort in my head.
I look Andy over as he takes a drink. He's very attractive. Not my usual type—like, at all—but he's still quite good looking.
I've had some fun tonight, but I'd be lying to myself if I didn't admit I would rather be with my friends.
It's not unlike me to date just for the hell of it.
I've been judged for it a lot in the past. Most people I say this to believe I'm crazy, dating someone when I'm not sure if it'll last. Why would you go into a relationship expecting it to end? they'd ask me.
I honestly think it's naïve for people my age to assume they won't break up. Most people don't find their "true love" until they're much older.
I'm too logical, too much of a realist to believe I'll marry every boyfriend I ever have. But that doesn't mean I don't enjoy dating.
"Are you close with your family?" he asks me, pulling myself from my thoughts.
"Well, yes, I suppose," I reply. "I have a really big family, though. I have six siblings, five of which live with me, so my house is always loud and chaotic."
"Damn, that's a lot of kids," he comments. I just nod.
"Yeah, my parents are Catholic, so they don't believe in birth control."
Andy stops for a second and looks at me. "Oh. So... does that mean you're, like, really religious?"
I shake my head. "No, not really. I definitely don't agree with everything they do."
Andy smirks, and I have a feeling he assumes I mean the birth control issue. "Good."
Andy pays for dinner, despite my offer to split, and we walk back to his truck. I let him open the door for me again, appreciation the nice gesture once again.
"Thanks," I tell him, climbing up into his truck. The weather is beautiful outside, nice and sunny despite the somewhat cooler temperature, and I wish there was a way to enjoy the weather on the drive home. Rolling the windows down would throw my hair around like crazy, though, and I probably wouldn't even be able to hear Andy speak.
I decide I still like Andy. I'm definitely attracted to him. I just don't know that we have that much in common.
We chat a little on the way to my house, but he mostly hums along to the music on the radio. He's a country music fan, which reminds me a bit of North Carolina. Country music is quite popular there, and I've even been to a couple of rodeos and line dancing bars in my life.
"Right up here," I remind him as we pull onto my street.
He pulls into our paved driveway, parking the car and getting out to walk me to the door. I can tell he's trying his best to kind, and I appreciate it.
"I had a lot of fun with you tonight," Andy tells me, and I turn to see a dazzling smile on his face. He takes a step closer to me.
"Yeah, it was fun," I agree, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
He pushes his blond hair out of his face, and I watch the movement closely. He really is cute, and I smile up at him, stopping in front of my front door.
"I guess I'll see you around school, then," he says, moving in even closer.
"Yeah, I guess so," I reply, flirting back.
Andy suddenly leans down and meets my mouth with his. I let him, reaching up to place a hand on his cheek and lean into the kiss.
His hair falls over my hand, and I start to pull away, satisfied with the small kiss. However, he wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me a bit closer.
I sink into the kiss again, enjoying it as heat rushes to my cheeks.
Suddenly, though, he reaches his other hand up to my neck, pushing his thumb against my throat, harder than necessary for a simple kiss. He's going to try and choke me.
I flinch, and it hits me at once, like instant muscle memory. I reach up to grab his hand in mine, getting it off my throat as fast as I can. I interlace our fingers, playing it off smooth.
I pull away from him then, keeping a smile on my face despite the anxiety rushing through me.
"I should really go inside," I say quickly, taking a shaky breath.
Andy nods and smiles, likely just thinking about lucky he is to have gotten to make out with Haven Walker. I doubt he has any idea about the horrible images I have in my mind now.
"Okay, yeah, sure," he agrees, stepping back away from me. "I'll see you around, Haven."
"Goodnight," I simply say, turning away and rushing to go inside.
---
"I am so glad we decided to do this," I tell Taylor as we stroll through the mall, scanning the stores as we go by.
"Me too," she agrees. "I desperately needed a girl's opinion."
Taylor asked me to help her pick out some new shoes after school today, and I was happy to do so. Apparently, her dads gave her a new credit card and she felt the need to put it to use.
"Well lucky for you, I've got lots of opinions."
Taylor laughs, pointing at a shoe store on our right, and we turn to go inside.
"You know, you should look around some, too," Taylor tells me. "I've seen your closet, and there's not a single pair of heels in there."
"That's not true!" I defend my shoe collection. It mostly consists of boots and more boots, with a few pairs of sneakers thrown in for variety, but I just revamped my wardrobe and have no intentions of undoing that revamp.
"One pair of black wedges you wear on Easter does not count," she argues, giving me a look.
"They're comfy," I continue defending my shoes. "Besides, I'm sure you have more than enough for the both of us."
Taylor stops in front of a display filled with strappy sandals and brightly colored high heels.
"True, but I'm so damn tall that I rarely even wear them," she admits. "Kace is taller than me, but only in flats. As soon as I put on anything bigger than a two inch heel, we're even."
"So what?" I shrug, picking up a random shoe from a display near me. "You should tower over him. Put him in his place. Let him know who wears the pants."
"Ha! Yeah, maybe I should," she says, but I can tell she has no plans to do that.
"Try those on," I tell her, referring to the pair of sandals in her hand. "They look like you."
She does as I suggested, and ends up loving them. She finds a couple of similar pairs and gets them all.
"Are you sure you don't want to look around a bit?" Taylor asks me again. "You can't be a true Californian without at least one pair of beach sandals."
I roll my eyes. She's hardly the stereotypical California girl. Her sparkly pink top, perfectly curled dark brown hair, and brown skin don't scream "surfer girl."
I know that her style is speaking for her today. She's wearing a pair of light wash jeans and a crochet pink top, a large white button up shirt tied around her waist. Her brown curls are perfectly placed, the top of her hair laid into an intricate braid held together by a baby blue scrunchie that perfectly matches her jeans.
"I'm not sure I can be considered a true Californian yet," I retort. "Maybe after I go vegan and start a YouTube channel."
Now Taylor rolls her eyes. She checks out and gets her bags, leading me out of the store.
"Food court?" I suggest, hungry as usual. "I saw they had a Pinkberry here."
"Of course you're hungry," she mutters. "I'm going to gain fifteen pounds being friends with you."
"Not true," I argue. "Being friends with me is practically a diet plan because I'll always be there to finish your food."
Taylor chuckles and follows me toward Pinkberry. I fill my cup with frozen yogurt and toppings galore, and once the bowl seems heavy enough, I pay the guy at the counter and lead Taylor to a table to sit.
"So you never told me how your date with Andy went," Taylor says, clearly excited.
"Oh, right! I meant to," I reply honestly. "It was pretty good. We went to dinner at that bistro on East Page Street. I forget the name of it. It was a really nice place."
"And you like him?" she asks me.
I eat a mouthful of my ice cream, thinking about my answer. "Yeah. I mean... well, I think so."
She just looks at me to go on, so I do. "I know I pegged him for a surfer dude, and man was I right. He literally talked about surfing for half of the date."
"You're kidding." Taylor looks horrified.
"I'm really not," I say, eating another spoonful of yogurt before continuing. "It wasn't so bad once I got him talking about something else."
"Like what?" She still seems unsure, like the surfing topic should have been the end of it.
"I mean, we talked about our families and stuff a bit," I remember. "He seems like a bit of a momma's boy."
"I don't know if that's a good thing or not," Taylor says, clearly trying to read me.
"I don't know... It wasn't the best date of my life, but he is genuinely nice. He was clearly trying, too. I mean, he held doors open for me, paid for dinner, walked me home."
"Did he kiss you?"
I nod, not really wanting to talk about it. It wasn't really Andy's fault that I freaked out. It's my own issues, but I can't disassociate the situation from him. What if it happens again?
"Yeah, he did," I just say, not seeming too overly excited or disappointed about it.
"So do you think you'll go out with him again?" she asks, and I think about my answer for a minute before answering.
I am attracted to Andy, or at least I was before the throat grabbing incident. That wasn't his fault, though, and despite the surf talk, I did enjoy our date. There's no reason I shouldn't give him a chance.
"I guess so," I reply. "I might as well see what happens, right? He seems nice and I have no reason not to."
"Wow, Haven don't get too excited."
I laugh. "No! You know what I mean. I just think it's worth trying again. Who else am I gonna go out with?"
"Are you kidding me? There are a thousand guys at school who would love to go out with you."
I shrug. Maybe she's right, but I have no evidence of that. "Well, so far, Andy's the only one who's asked me out."
Taylor shakes her head. "I think you should be dating someone who gets you more excited. You're one of the most animated people I know, always speaking your mind. It's weird to see you so... indifferent."
I shrug again, thinking about what she's saying. Maybe she's right. I don't half-ass anything in life, why half-ass dating? But then again, who else am I gonna date? I shake my head, deciding to give Andy another chance.
"Oh my god, you're kidding me," Taylor suddenly says, looking behind me.
"What? What is it?" I ask, suddenly worried.
"The boys."
I turn around in my seat to see Kace, Sin, and Beckett nearing our table.
"What are they doing here?" I ask, turning back to Taylor. I had no idea they were coming, and from the surprise on Taylor's face, I'm guessing she feels the same.
"Hey Taylor! Hey Haven!" Beckett says excitedly, pulling up a chair beside us.
"Hey, guys," I start. "What are you doing here?"
"Just thought you could use some eye candy," Kace says, answering me but really talking to Taylor. He sits beside her and gives her a swift kiss.
"How did you know where to find us?" Taylor asks them.
"Well Haven mentioned you'd be at the mall this afternoon and we all know she can't go 5 minutes without eating anything, so the food court was the obvious choice," Becket answers.
I roll my eyes but smile at how well my friends already know me. "You're just jealous you don't have any Pinkberry and I do."
"Let me have a bite of yours," Beckett begs.
"No way! Go get your own." I pull my cup away from him and closer to safety.
"Just a tiny bite," Beckett pleads jokingly, grabbing at the cup and jostling it from my grip.
"Be careful or she'll bite your hand off," Sin remarks.
Beckett turns to flip off Sin and when he does, he pulls the bowl with him, knocking it into my lap.
"Son of a bitch!"
I pick up the bowl, leaving a smear of bright orange yogurt on my thigh. I groan and get up to grab some napkins from the cart outside Pinkberry's door, wiping at my leg furiously.
"Beckett, you're gonna buy me a new one. I hope you know that," I shout from across the way.
I see Peyton and Skylar approach the table as I throw away my handful of napkins. I carry my frozen yogurt back to the table and see Peyton waving his arms violently, holding cans of some sort.
"Peyton, what are you-"
Suddenly the can Peyton's holding is spraying me in the face, burning my eyes to no end. I scream out in pain, dropping my frozen yogurt and reaching up to hold my eyes closed.
"What the fuck, Peyton?!"