This is just an idea I had, and I was wondering if anyone thought it was worth continuing. So lemme know what you think :)

Disclaimer: Sarah Dessen, my favourite author, has always inspired me, but this is neither a continuation of one of her books nor based on her work.

Lights. Camera. Heartbreak!

June

Salley's POV

Chapter 1

I could feel eyes on me as I pushed the blue shopping cart into the newest store Roxy had taken an interest in. Maybe it was because shopping carts were for the produce aisle, and not the mall. Or maybe it was because my best friend was singing loudly in a public place, not caring who did or did not hear her rendition of "Shout."

That's Roxy, and she's my best friend. She and I hadn't known each other since we were in diapers, and that's partly why we were so good for each other. Everyone else at school was with the same friends from kindergarten, and their circles were so tight that no one else could enter without an access code and passkey. Roxy had jumped from circle to circle, being the fifth wheel each time. I had taken the other route, and my mom became my best friend. So finally at the start of middle school, we just clicked. We had never spoken before, so neither of us knew what to expect. Finally, after weeks of the exact same classes, our legacy of sisterhood began.

"Ooooh, Salley, look at this one!" she called. As I turned the corner to face her, I saw her holding a black string bikini.

"Skank," I said between coughs. To this, she promptly gave me a look, and I promptly gave her one back. I tried to glare, but I burst into giggles. We were, obviously, shopping for bathing suits, much to my disapproval. I don't like going into fitting rooms and seeing myself in a tiny piece of cloth: the exact opposite of Roxy. There wasn't much that she wouldn't wear. I, on the other hand, had a bumper sticker that said "Modest is Hottest."

"What about that one? It's cute," I suggested, pointing to a thicker two-piece with pink flowers against a white background. We both knew it wasn't her style, however, and she did not hesitate to mumble something I didn't catch. Before I knew it, she was in the fitting room, leaving me with the cart and only one thing to fill it: a blue, two-piece with a halter that covered my stomach and a skirt to match. It was decorated with yellow Hawaiian hibiscuses. I liked it, and I know what size I am. Who needs a fitting room?

I heard a swoosh behind me, and I turned around to see Roxy emerge from the curtain. She had on a brown bikini that had bows on the sides of the bottom piece. I had to admit it looked cute with the white beads on the bows. She smiled unsurely, as if to ask my opinion.

"It's cute; you should totally get it!" I told her. And with that, she grinned victoriously and disappeared back into the dressing room.

After about two hours of my "How do I look?" and Roxy's "Do you like it?" we both decided on bathing suits, sarongs, and sunglasses. Now, we were ready for anything. Well, not really. But we were ready for the beach.

I had turned sixteen this past winter in February, and our parents had finally agreed to let us drive down to the beach and stay alone in a "trustworthy" hotel. Roxy was still fifteen, turning sixteen in September, so I did the driving.

She was almost a year younger than me, but she was light-years ahead of me in the life-experience category. Roxy learned everything about the world – the stuff you were supposed to learn at my age now – when she was about eight: sex, drugs, and rock-and roll. She has slowly and almost completely broken away from being what my mother would politely call "loose." Now it's simmered down to "boy-crazy." So while Roxy went out and sampled the male population, I was still waiting for my first kiss. My mother always taught me to be a "nice girl," so I got a reputation as a goody-two-shoes. Roxy, however, did not. This has always made me really protective of her for some reason because I know eventually she won't be the heartbreaker, and for once she'll get her heart broken. It's not like she needs to be on birth control or anything, but everyone has a past, and she hates herself for it.

I always try to help her when she struggles with where to draw the line, and I selfishly think she's changed a lot because of me. I think being attached at the hip with a "good girl" helped her slink out of her old habits, too. People tell me that there's something different about her, but they can't quite put their finger on it, and it feels good knowing I helped. It feels even better knowing I can help her with something and not the other way around for once.

Because Roxy's one of those girls that doesn't cry. She just doesn't. And if she does, she sure doesn't tell anybody. This comes in handy considering how many times I've cried on her shoulder in the bathroom at school. She's always there, ready to take care of me, no matter who or what has hurt me. A lot of people say she's like my mom, and, well, they're right. I can always count on her for serious advice on things that really matter or a belittling comment about a situation where I'm especially spineless. But we keep each other going, and I guess that's all that really matters in the end. She takes care of me, and I don't think my life would be right without her.

July

Chapter 2

"Salley! Hey, it's me. I'm just calling to say 'hey,' which I did already. And I miss you. Uhm, not sure what to say, so just… be safe, and have fun. I love you," said the voice of Dylan Matthews.

Dylan to me is what some girls call their "first real boyfriend." Sure, I had crushes in elementary school and a secret admirer in eighth grade, but this time it was serious. He was what I had always dreamed a boyfriend would be: cute, funny, sweet, easy-going, and smart enough to carry on a decent conversation. The fact that he had abs didn't hurt, either. I don't know how he has muscle, though, since he doesn't do sports. Actually, Roxy met him before I did because she met him at callbacks for our annual school play.

This past year, it happened to be Pride and Prejudice, one of Roxy's absolute favorites. I've always envied her skills as an actress, and evidently our drama teacher saw those skills since he cast her as his leading lady, Elizabeth Bennet. Dylan didn't have the experience, but he had talent, so he was given the part of Fitzwilliam Darcy, another main character in the show. So after weeks of rehearsal, they became close friends, simply because they spent so much time together. It wasn't until they started dress rehearsals that she introduced us, and you'll have to excuse me for using the oldest cliché in the book, but it truly was love at first sight. Now, normally I didn't believe in that sort of thing, but there was some unknown chemistry that Dylan and I had from day one. He made me feel so special. He had play practice almost everyday after school with at least six beautiful girls, including my best friend. But he noticed me and officially asked me out on March 13 at 4:37 PM. That was March, and this is June; I guess some high-school relationships do last longer than two weeks.

"You make me sick," Roxy said after listening to the message and clicking the answering machine off. Dylan always told me he loved me when I called, which was almost everyday. Roxy called us Mr. and Mrs. Commitment. It was hard for her to understand why anyone would go to so much trouble to keep in touch with someone that they were just going to break up with anyway. The truth is, I think commitment scares her, but she denies it, interested only in relationships that last a few hours - give or take - depending on how good of a kisser he was and how far she wanted to go.

"Well, I think it's sweet that we talk everyday. I hardly get to see him on vacations," I tried to explain. She scoffed loudly.

"He's clingy," she said.

"He's dedicated," I fought back. I loved Dylan, and even my tough-as-nails best friend can't change that.

About a half-hour later we walked down to the beach with cooler, towels, and iPod speakers in hand. As Roxy set up a beach playlist for us to listen to, I laid out two towels on the sand and opened the cooler. I took out a Coke and half a classic peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich, and Roxy dug through the cooler until she found her lone Sprite bottle and a cereal bar (which she found out tasted like wax so she stole the other half of my sandwich).

The beach was crowded today, as I saw couples jogging, kids flying kites, and some our age hanging out on the shore and playing in the surf. I noticed some guys staring in our direction, and I found out why when I turned around: the infamous publicly-lathering-yourself-with-sunscreen-trick. Thank you, Roxy.

"Hey, you're giving a free show to about seven guys on our left," I told her. She shrugged and kept it up with her Coppertone. I would have pressed on the issue of modesty, but she was done within seconds so I decided to keep my mouth shut.

Just then, I heard some boppy song with a la-la-la chorus float from my towel, and I reached for my cell phone, cursing my pre-programmed ringtone.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Hey!" said a voice on the other line.

"Oh, hey, Dylan! What's up?" As I said this, Roxy rolled her eyes and walked down to the water.

"Obviously not as much as what's up with you: I can't ever get hold of you, only the answering machine. What are you so busy with?"

"Well, me and Roxy are-" he cut me off.

"Roxy's there?" he asked.

"Yeah, didn't I tell you we were going to the beach-house?"

"Seems like I remember you telling me something or other to that effect…" I could see Roxy floating on her back in the sparkling water in front of me, and suddenly I didn't want to be on the phone with Dylan for our usual two hours. I was here to swim and get a tan.

"So did you need something?" I asked, trying not to sound insanely obvious.

"Kinda. I was just calling to say that I'm going to Vegas with my folks, and I'm not sure I'll have a signal on my cell. I'll be back home late July."

"That sounds fun! Roxy and I will be back sometime in August, so I might just have to wait till school to see you again."

"I hope not; we'll see. Hey, mom's beeping the horn: I gotta go. I love you," he said.

"And I love you, too." With that, I hung up and ran to the ocean, splashing myself and Roxy to a point of maximum-soak.

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