The Lifeguard and The Surfer

Chapter One: Surf's Up?

***This is my story. My characters. My plot. My dialogue. Please don't copy it. OKAY NOW GO READ!***

"SUUURFFF'S UP!"

      Today was the day I had been working toward for the last year and a half. The Open Surfing Championships for the West Coast. I sucked in a breath nervously. I had nothing to be nervous about. I had worked hard and I knew that. Yet here I am, nervous as hell.

      My best friend, Alex, looked at me freaking out and rolled her eyes.

"Relax, will you? You're going to do fine."

"Alex! I can't relax! This is my dream and what if it shatters in front of me?!" I exclaim. I really hope that didn't happen.

      I grab my lucky surf board off the top of my VW red bug. Hiking my bag back on to my shoulder, I take a step forward, and then turn around panic etched onto my
face.

"I can't do this, Alex," I complain.

"Yes you can, besides I want to go admire all those hot surfer boys! Let's go," she whines. I laugh at her comment and link my arm through hers.

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"Last call for the Girls U18 Championships! Please head to the Judges Booth to check in!" the announcer said.

I weave through the crowd to the booth and smiled at the lady sitting there.

"Name," she states, clearly bored.

"MacAllister. Amelia Skye MacAllister," I say. She nods, checks me off a list and hands me a temporary tattoo with a number.

"You're number 9. Put the temporary tattoo on your right thigh please." That's weird. Surfing competitions didn't use tattoos usually. Then again this was Cape Shelley and they did have some weird things about the town.

As I hold the sponge down on the temporary tattoo, I mentally prepare myself for the competition today.

Once the tattoo is on, I take off my shorts and shirt, leaving me in my mint green bikini. (Alex claims the color made me look tanner.) Usually I just wear a wetsuit surfing, but since the competition was being held in such warm waters today, I decided against it.

I grabbed my board and walked toward the area marked U18. I heard a wolf whistle behind me and I turned around, ready to smack whoever it was.

"Oh it's only you," I say, once I realized it's Alex.

"Damn girl, you rock that bikini!" She exclaims. "Why do you always wear sweats and sweatshirts when you have such a hot bod?"

I smack her face lightly and grin, pulling my curly, long, light brown-ish/blonde hair into a ponytail.

"I hate you."

She sticks her tongue out at me like that mature 17 year old she is. "Love you too, weirdo."

"Contestants, please, line up in number order," the grouchy lady from before says in her monotone voice.

I give Alex a hug and get in line.

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