Author's Note: June 10, 2005...I have reloaded a couple of chapters and I've done a little bit of editing. Nothing major has changed. Thanks to all my reviewers!

Author's Note: I do not own Summerland or any of the characters. I am simply borrowing them for my own (and hopefully the reader's) enjoyment. Whatever you don't know from the show is probably mine. Please read and review.

Summary: An accident brings Bradin and Maggie together. They're complete opposites, but neither can forget the other. All seems well, but will jealousy tear them apart?

Your Beautiful Soul

Chapter 1

Trying to escape the heat of direct late afternoon sunlight, Bradin Westerly stepped onto a shadowy path that led from the street to the beach between two houses, almost exact replicas of his aunt's. As he walked, he allowed his mind to wander. He wondered what kind of people lived in these houses: rich executives wanting an ocean view for cheap so they could keep a majority of their money, or middle-class housemates struggling to pay rent and take care of two nephews and a niece. Walking reluctantly back into the sun's rays, he heard a rumble from above him.

Bradin stood silently for a moment, cool water and ice cubes dripping from him. Gaining control of himself, he called out angrily, then proceeded to stomp up the stairs to the small second-story deck of the house to his left. His mind raced, searching for the right words to use in cussing the unknown prankster, but as his eyes fell upon the culprit, he was again frozen in place.

Her eyes were wide with surprise and fear behind her thin-rimmed glasses. "I am so sorry! I didn't see anyone."

"Um…no problem…I was wanting to cool off anyway." Bradin returned to reality, his previous thoughts vanishing instantly. "Strangely enough, this isn't the first time."

She laughed. Bradin thought his heart had skipped a beat. Her laugh was…beautiful.

"Here—let me get you a towel." The girl grabbed a large bright blue beach towel off a white patio chair and handed it to him with an apologetic smile.

"Thanks," Bradin smiled back.

She turned away and started to gather papers into her arms from the beanbag chair next to the sliding glass doors. Bradin pulled of his shirt and rung the water out of it, though only a quarter of his attention was used on drying off. The rest of him focused on the girl. Her perfect figure—clothed in short jean shorts and a light-green tank top. Her glowing chestnut hair—brilliantly red and gold at the same time—falling in gentle curls a few inches below her shoulders. Bradin's eyes searched her, taking in every little detail of her outward appearance, wishing he could search her soul.

"I'm Bradin Westerly."

"Maggie," she said over her shoulder. "Maggie Ward."

Bradin quickly averted his eyes when she turned, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw her freeze for a moment before clearing her throat and looking across the beach to the ocean. Breaking the silence, he said, "Guess I'm as dry as I'll get."

"Oh," she smiled, but offered nothing more, continuing to stare across the sand.

"Whatcha listenin' too?" Bradin asked, motioning towards the CD player hooked on her jean shorts. He had to keep her talking. He didn't want to leave.

"Mahler's third." At his silence, she faced him and laughed at his blank expression. "It's classical; obviously not your cup of tea."

"Not really," he admitted. Man, was she beautiful. Bradin found her eyes, and the fire within their blue warmth held his gaze boldly. This was it. His mind was blank, except for the question that burned in him. Do you want to hang sometime? Bradin took a breath to steady his tight nerves. "You doing anything later?"

"No." She nonchalantly dropped the word like a hunk of juicy meat for a starving wolf. Then, after a pause, "How about eight?"

"Okay. See ya then." Bradin smiled to himself, relief flooding through him. "Bye." He trotted down the steps and walked away as briskly as he dared. Once he was sure he was out of sight of her house, he jogged the rest of the way home. Entering the small beach house, he glanced at the clock on the wall. 4:30. Three and a half hours still.

"Hey Bradin," Susannah said from the couch. "Ava said to remind you that you're in charge of Derrick tonight."

Bradin froze in his tracks. How could he have forgotten? "Will you do me a huge favor?"

She looked up from her book. "What will I get for it?"

"Anything you want." He was ready to get on his knees and beg.

"Anything?" She asked.

"Anything."

"Okay, I'll watch Derrick tonight." Susannah stood from the couch and set her book on the coffee table. She grinned and said teasingly, "Got a hot date or something?"

"Yeah," he called, heading up the stairs to his room, leaving her looking bewildered.