"Does this feel real enough?" He grabbed my face delicately in his hands, the rain runs down our foreheads to where our lips meet, each of us tasting the cold drops.
Sparks flew in every direction, but instead of detracting from the intensity of th...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Kennedy's P.O.V
I RAN STRAIGHT to the music rooms which also happen to be my next class, after Caiden showed me that photo of Sam and I.
I tried so hard to forget that day. So hard to forget him. Ever since we got to America, I've only thought about him once or twice.
It worked for a while. A while being up till now.
That photo of us on the beach was taken two days before the accident with my father.
That's one of the reason why I don't use Instagram anymore. Being the Australian Teen Surf Champion comes with lots of followers and lots of followers mean lots of comments. Comments both good and bad.
I'd never gotten much hate but the reason I stopped using it was because of the questions, the rumours, the assumptions.
I was bombarded daily with questions on my dads shark attack. How he was dumb enough to swim that day. How I was stupid not to tell him to not surf. There was a whole chain going around that my dad was the reason Sam got killed that day.
Tears stream down my face. I'm not one to cry pretty, so I sniffle and wipe the tears off my blotched cheeks.
I miss him so much. I wish he was still alive. I can't believe I tried to forget about Sam Conroy.
I push open the door to the classroom. The music rooms at school here are small, as not many people choose to take the subject.
Their are bean bags in one corner, a few tables and chairs. Also a huge white board with black lines written on it to represent sheet music bar lines and 2 pianos and 1 keyboard in the room.
I go straight to the back cupboard where the guitars are kept. My throat is tied up in knots and I fought to keep the tears at bay.
Running my hands over each string on each guitar, I settle for one that looks like my old one and sit in a bean bag.
I take in a deep breath before letting out a small shaky one.
Up till I was 15 and got bored of the lessons from my tutor, Sam told me he loved it when I played for him.
2 years ago
The day was hot like always in summer. I walked down to the deserted beach and sat in the shaded sand.
I listened to the waves, my guitar resting on my lap while I waited for Sam to come.
He texted me this morning to meet him 5pm sharp at the beach under the great tall tree.
"I was beginning to wonder if you ditched me," I said as Sam came trodding along in blue shorts and a white singlet top.
