A Year Around the Sun

o n e - i can't hurt him

and i'll meet your eyes
for the very first t i m e . . .

🌊🌊🌊

My favorite time of day is 6 AM during the summer months. It's a little strange for a nearly seventeen-year-old girl to be admitting that, but it's true. There's no other time quite like it.

It's right when the sun comes up over the sand dunes and hits the windows of The Sand Dollar. Located on the edge of Shellmark, my quiet seaside hometown harboring on the outer coast of Maryland, it's a local favorite for breakfast. Not to mention, my parents own the restaurant so of course, I'm biased towards it.

I never thought I'd be a morning person in my teenage years, but working at a place that opens at the crack of dawn and closes at noon has changed that. My parents might have done it on purpose by putting me on the early morning shifts, but I've grown to love it by now. Watching the sun rise as the day just starts and the town slowly wakes up is the highlight of most mornings. That, and having the ocean merely feet away from me keeps me in one piece.

The ocean has always been home to me. A place where I feel miles away from everything around me. A stable rock I know will always be there for me at the end of the day. I've grown up with the ocean never out of my sight, and there's nowhere else I would want to be.

As the golden hour approached and dinner time was looming, I found myself in my usual spot perched on the beach. Plopped down in the middle of the sand, eyes hooked on the waves rolling up and crashing against the surface. A sound that was like music to me.

By now, the massive crowd of beach-goers had died down yet there were a few still lingering here and there. With it being blocks away from the boardwalk chaos, it's where you can enjoy the view of the ocean and time to yourself. There's no worries of crying babies, whistles being blown, or rowdy children running aimlessly while their parents ignore them.

Unfortunately, I'm usually a part of this everyday circus when working at my second job – selling tickets in a booth at the WonderPier on the boardwalk. It's part-time during the week and only from June until September while the pier is open. Other than that, most of my time is spent at The Sand Dollar with my parents.

The middle of June just as school let out is probably the worst time to be working on the boardwalk, because everybody decides to come down the shore. It kicks off the official summer season for everyone and it's prime time for making money. But that's obvious because it happens every year, and it never fails to annoy me.

Vacationers come to the pier and demand tickets, the lines are ridiculously long, and no one has any patience. Aside from all that, I'm grateful to even have one job, let alone two. A teenager like me needs money to spend on stupid things. Mostly food and clothes.

Wiping my forehead and taking a deep breath, I squinted my eyes and kept my gaze on the sparkling water in front of me. The wind danced around me as grains of sand stuck to my exposed skin, my obnoxious, red WonderPier t-shirt, and my khaki shorts. I had kicked my white Converse off long ago, letting my feet breathe and sticking my toes in the sand.

After a five hour shift at the pier, I came to the beach to sit and relax for awhile. It's something I do pretty often, because like I said, the ocean is home to me.

I ran a hand through the wavy mess that is my dirty blonde hair and stood up to stretch. My knees cracked as they straightened out, telling me that I had been sitting for too long. Carrying my sneakers in my hand, I gradually made the walk back to my house a few yards away.