BPOV-1
"Buffy!" My mother calls from the bottom of the stairs, "You'd better be packing!"
I groan and climb off my bed to fill yet another empty box. It's unbelievable how much stuff I managed to accumulate in my short seventeen years living in California.
I turn on my iPod and select my favorite album by The Smiths, "The Queen is Dead." Most people wouldn't expect a perky cheerleader like me to listen to such gloomy music, but I like to surprise people. Plus, the British accent just does something to me. I wonder if it will ever get old. I guess I'll find out in few weeks. Oh, didn't I mention? My parents are sending me away to an all-girls boarding school in London after getting into some trouble at school. But we won't talk about that right now.
The worst part of packing is the memories that it stirs up. I sigh as I pick up my favorite framed picture of my totally hot boyfriend, Angel, and wrap it in newspaper. I'm going to miss him while I'm gone, but it's only for a year, and he promised to email and skype with me every single day. There isn't a cheerleading squad at my new school, but I decide to fold up my uniform and add it to the box anyway.
Packing is totally exhausting. I flop back down on the bed and grab my cell phone to text Angel.
Me: what r u up to?
Angel replies after a few moments.
Angel: not much. heading to football practice. u?
Me: just doing some packing.
Angel:
Me: I know. just seeing if you wanted to go for a walk. I forgot you had practice. That's ok. have fun! 3
Angel: OK, babe. see you tomorrow, I hope. 3
Me: K. See ya.
I drop my phone on the floor and pout. I'm sooo bored! Nothing to do… And more packing is definitely not an option. I climb off the bed and decide to go for a walk by myself. I pull my long blonde hair into a tight ponytail, roll up my jeans and put on my canvas sneakers.
My mother hears me bound down the stairs and calls after me. "Buffy? Where do you think you're going this time of night?" She pokes her head around the corner to glare at me.
I try to look as innocent as possible. "I'm just going to get some fresh air, Mom. I haven't said goodbye to the beach, and I've been working really hard on packing," I whine.
Mom gives in like she always does. "Alright, sweetie. But don't stay out too late. You still have a lot to do tomorrow to get ready for the move."
"OK, Mommy." I give her a kiss on the cheek and skip out the front door.
My house is literally a block away from the beach. When I arrive, I realize just how much I'm going to miss all of it. I'll miss the smell of the ocean, the sound of the waves crashing, the feel of the sand between my toes. I take off my shoes and dig my feet into the sand where it's nice and cool. After a few moments of sitting and staring into the waves, I have the feeling that the beach is not empty. Trying not to draw attention to myself, I look around nonchalantly. Someone is walking barefoot along the shoreline. As the shadow moves closer, I realize it is a young male about my age. He has blonde spiky hair, he is wearing a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and his jeans are rolled up, and he is carrying both of his shoes in one hand. And he is totally dreamy.
"Hey," he nods as he passes behind where I am sitting.
"Hey," I reply and turn my gaze back to the water.
"Are you here by yourself?"
"Just trying to clear my head," I reply. Oh. My. GOD. He has a British accent. What are the odds?
"Oh. Sorry. Hope I didn't interrupt." He starts to walk away.
"No, it's cool. I was just about to go for a walk myself." I hold out my hand. "I'm Buffy," I smile.
"Spike. Nice to meet you." His eyes are the exact color of the ocean.
"Spike?" I giggle.
"Well, it's actually William. But no one ever calls me that."
"Great. Nice to meet you, William." I stand up and dust the sand off of my backside and my hands. "Would you like to walk with me, William?"
"Seriously. Please don't call me that." For a moment, I worry that he might be angry, but I can tell by the glimmer in his eyes that he's teasing, so I decide to just let it go.
"So, are you from jolly ol' England, Spike?"
"Yeah, from London, actually."
"No way! I'm about to move to London! What's it like?"
"Erm…cold. Rainy. Dark. It's quite lovely, actually."
I smile and continue walking.
We walked along the beach and talked for hours. At one point, Spike grabbed my hand and I don't think he let go for the rest of the evening. He even walked me home before the sun came up. He was just so…irresistibly charming and sweet. So when he leaned over to give me a kiss at the front door, I didn't protest. Our lips met and I swear there were fireworks. Now, I know what you're thinking. Yes, I have a boyfriend. But if you had seen Spike at that moment, you wouldn't have been able to resist either! Anyway, I restrained myself and didn't use much tongue.
"Well, it was nice meeting you. Good night, Spike."
"Good night, Buffy. I hope I get to see you again." Spike is still leaning towards me like he wants to kiss again.
"Yeah, me too."
"How about tomorrow, then?"
I blush at the thought that he wants to see me again so soon. Plus, I kind of made plans with Angel. Oh well, I'm sure Angel will be busy. "OK. I'll meet you at the beach tomorrow afternoon."
Spike inhales a deep breath. "Em, actually, I'll be busy in the afternoon. How about tomorrow evening, say, eight?"
I hide my disappointment. "Oh, OK then. I'll see you at eight."
We say our goodbyes and I step quietly through the front door and go upstairs to bed.
