Finding Ourselves Together (READ REVAMP VERSION - IN WAVES)

25 | Movie Moment

"Okay, open your eyes." Nate told me, having had to convince me to close them in the first place. I was skeptical but ready. "I give you full permission to laugh, that's why I'm showing you."

I tentatively let the night back in, scanning over the unmissable sight in front of me. I didn't know what I was expecting, but this wasn't it. Who would have thought that Nate was hiding something so big? Literally. I could see why he was wrestling with the decision to show me.

"Your hair!" I exclaimed, taking in the mop of curls that had been released from their tied-up prison. "How does all of that fit into a bun?!"

He laughed and shook it around. "Magic. And now you know why you've never seen me with my hair out."

"You look like a totally different person!" The initial shock was wearing off, now being replaced with amusement. It looked like a fake wig that he plopped over the hair I was used to seeing. I just wanted to dig my fingers in there and play with all those glorious curls, but I whipped my phone out instead, immediately documenting what I was sure he'd never show me again. "C'mon, do a little spin and let me see the back."

"Whoa, no flash photography please." He objected but chuckled, turning and revealing the other untamed side. "Take it all in, let your eyes adjust to this horrendous sight."

"What are you talking about? I love it!"

"You do?" He spun around with a slack jaw. "Wait, are you recording me?"

I nodded and zoomed in on his annoyed face, making sure to get all the wild details and locks cascading around his forehead.

"I hope you're enjoying this, DeMarco, 'cause it's the last time you're gonna see it." He said with a static face before a wide smile broke and took over. He began tying his hair again. "Alright, show's over."

"Buzzkill." I stopped the recording and put my phone away, already forgetting what we had been talking about before. He looked normal again, but I couldn't help feeling special being one of the few people who knew about his crazy curls.

Nate's phone chimed and he fished it out of his back pocket, his eyes flying across the screen in a second. "That's Blake asking why I'm taking so long to get back."

"Oh, I guess you should probably go, huh?"

"Yeah. He just wants to do this tradition we have, but I'm not really looking forward to it."

"What kind of tradition?"

His lips moved into a slight smile. "The stupid kind ­– we punch each other on our birthdays. Always have."

"What?? And that originated from?"

"Well, it started when my dad took me for my first surf lesson on my eighth birthday, Blake was in the class too, but I didn't know him yet..."

"So, you became instant friends?"

"Not quite." He muttered. "There was a pretty girl in the class who we were both trying to impress the whole time. Blake thought it would be a good idea to show off and punch me in the face to get her attention."

"Did it work?" I laughed.

"No, she called us stupid buttheads and ran away." He warmly chuckled, lost in the childhood memory. "But yeah, that's how we became friends. Then I punched him on his birthday as payback, and the tradition was born."

I shook my head, amused at the thought of them doing this every year. Looking at Nate and the person he is now, I pictured him and a hyperactive Blake running around on the beach and learning how to surf when they were kids. I pictured his diamond cheeks being chubbier, his faint nose freckles forming in the sunlight, his hair wild and untamed and full of ringlets. If only I had met him at that age. We would have a friendship that was already deep and strong, set in stone and littered with history, just like his and Blake's. Although, if that happened in reality, Rob probably would have still been the one who effortlessly befriended them... and I would still be the annoying little sister no one paid attention to.