Geoff leaned back on his hands, the warm sand sifting through his fingers and settling in between the crevices in his palm. A cast made of bright orange plaster, held steadfastly to his left leg, reminding him of how much fun he was going to lose this summer.
He sighed, laying back, the cowboy hat he had originally bought as a joke but decided he actually liked blocking the sun from his eyes.
A shadow cast itself over his legs and he looked up.
It was a blonde, wetsuit clad girl. The tendrils of her hair streamed with salt water and clung to her face, which was red with exertion, endorphins pumping, smiling at the crippled party boy.
"Can I sit?" She asked, but before he answered, she shoved her board into the sand, it's waxed, smooth sides gleaming in the sun. She sat besides him, and the sand clung to her wet legs.
"So, how'd you get that cast?" She asked, finally, staring at the signature laden neon plaster.
"Skateboard accident," he said, cringing at his own stupidity.
"Brutal," she nodded, pulling up her sleeve to show a puncture mark in her arm. "That's how I got this. Now I stick to the waves."
He grinned. "What's your name?"
"Bridgette."
They shook hands, and he knew he had found the girl of his dreams.
