Ahh! Thank you for a great first chapter response. :) I'm super excited to get further into this story and I hope you are, too. It's going to be one of those where a lot of teasing, sort of hilarious things goes on. I'm really enjoying writing it, so I really hope you enjoy reading it. :)

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Let me know what you think. Enjoy!

"You're so tiny it's unbelievable," Theo said to her sometime later, his voice laced with amusement and also fondness, as Ally reached to staple a poster up on one of the power posts, having trouble reaching the spot where it needed to be. She sank down, defeated and gave him a teasing smile, followed by sticking her tongue out. It didn't help that Theo was six foot himself, making her look even tinier than most. Like a child, he patted her head. "It's all good. We love you anyway, Ally."

"You guys are just ridiculously tall," she defended, crossing her arms. "Clearly they picked the right two guys to do this job."

"Nah, Dez got stuck with this," he laughed back, seeing the redheaded male down the street, trying to balance stapling his own sign and smoking a cigarette in the other hand.

She made a face, "I thought he quit. And what do you mean he got stuck with this?"

"He did," Theo answered, grabbing some papers that flew away while he was helping her. "A few days ago. I give it another two before he decides he's done again. And by that, I mean his parents caught him sneaking into the house past three am, and his mother insisted if he didn't want to be stuck inside rest of the year, that he'd do this for free."

Ally snorted. His mother was on the council for Miami and wanted to keep up a good public image. Her son sneaking into the house that late would only spell trouble for her and rest of her team if he'd been caught by the ridiculous news team here. "And I wonder just where he was before he came home?"

His boyfriend smiled sheepishly, "Dunno. Must've been having a good time."

"Uh huh," she laughed, watching him flick the ashes. "I really wish he wouldn't do that."

"You and me both," her best friend's boyfriend agreed, following her down the street and laughing when Ally took the small object from his hand, crushing it with the heel of her shoe. His heartbroken expression only lasted a second before he turned the color of his hair.

"I thought you quit," she repeated darkly.

Dez sputtered, "I did! It was a stress thing."

A raised eyebrow only got him more flustered, "Sure it was. Dez, you promised me. You know how bad it is for you."

"I know," he murmured, rubbing his arm up and down. Littered on his skin were tattoos, all having been done within the last year. Gone were the days of high school when Dez was covered in odd clothing options and here were the days of his even further evolved hipster persona. While he was still the goofy, often a bit ridiculous boy she remembered from high school, he had also changed quite a bit.

Including that disgusting habit.

"How many more blocks?"

"I dunno, probably like five," Theo commented.

"Well, I'm starving," Dez complained. "Can we go get lunch at Bridget's Diner before we continue?"

The other two nodded furiously; everyone loved the local diner. "Hell yeah."

At the diner, as the boys destroyed a plate of loaded potatoes, she looked over her weekly planner. The weeks leading into the competition would prove to be just as busy as the actual event. Besides helping Dallas prepare, which was a task in itself, she had to organize the surf shop (her father wasn't due back until a couple days before), make sure all stock was well filled, and maintain business as usual, too. Normally, that didn't seem so tough, but Dallas was dead-set on winning this, and that meant a lot of late nights and hard spent time.

She hoped when it was all said and done he was happy, and she could rest for as long as she needed.

"Ally?"

"Hmm?" she murmured, circling something she didn't want to forget especially.

Dez was looking at her. "You zoned out on us. I asked if you were coming to the try outs in two days."

"Try outs?"

"The competition try outs," he added, giving her a worried look. "Are you okay? You look tired."

She yawned, as if on cue. "I am," she admitted. "I didn't sleep well last night. I was doing an inventory of the shop and it took me an hour to find some missing items. I guess I confused one of the other girls and she put them in the wrong spot. Then, I got up early because I had to meet Dallas, but Trish was late and—"

"It's okay," he immediately assured her, and she was thankful for that. It would be a stressful few weeks for everyone, herself included.

"But I'll be there, definitely."

"I'll be out that day, too," Theo admitted, proving himself to be just like Dallas. Scouting before the newbies were even in. Boys could be so competitive.

"Of course you will be," she laughed.

Dez rolled his eyes, "Has Dallas come around yet? I can't believe he's still holding a grudge about the last competition. It's like he really thinks he can win them all."

Her cheeks burned. He really did think that, but she wasn't going to tell her friends. Once their friends. While Theo was as competitive as her boyfriend, he never let it get in the way of his relationships or friendships. He'd never sink to that level. She missed the days of the three of them surrounding her, all spouting off surf terms and arguing about their next event, competition or just fun day out at the beach.

Her time was divided these days—between Theo, Dez, and Trish, and then Dallas. In his mind, he didn't need friends. He needed a name. A name would get him to his parent's level, bring him up in life and assure him a quality one. She understood it, but sometimes hated it. Growing up in money meant you had to keep it. "I think he just needs some more time—he's not used to having someone be as good as him."

"So you do think I'm as good as him?" Theo quipped, pumping his hands. "Alright!"

Ally rolled her eyes too, "I'll never admit to saying that."

"Your secret is safe with me," he teased.

By the time Ally was done with the boys, it was time for her to head back to the surf shop: do a final count of the register, set the security in place, and make sure nothing else had to be done. For a twenty year old girl, she sure did have a lot on her shoulders. But running a store often meant giving up some freedoms, and because it also set a roof on her head, she really couldn't hate it too much.

The store was quiet when she arrived, and she found her friend flipping aimlessly through a gossip magazine, smacking her gum. She barely glanced at her when she entered. Ally rolled her eyes, "Trish! What if I was a customer?"

The girl snorted, "Ally, I've had two customers in the last two hours. I think you're fine."

"Two?" That seemed impossible. Sure, it was a weekday and the waves were kind of off, but people still were at the beach. To make sure, she glanced out the window and yes, there were plenty of people who were on boards in the water, and even more littered on the sand. Two was not a good sign.

"Well, one actually," the girl admitted. "The other guy just wanted to use our bathroom."

"Ugh," she moaned, shaking her head. "This is horrible. We need to do something!"

"Like what?"

Ally shrugged, having no ideas. "Business has been down for weeks. Ever since that new store opened on the other side of the beach. I don't like them. They practically stole everyone!"

"Ally…"

"It's like they think they can just steal everyone away, like we haven't worked to make this place ours in the last few years!"

"Ally—"

"How dare they! I swear, if I could I'd go down there and give them a piece of my mind!"

"ALLY!"

She turned to look at her. "What?"

"We'll figure it out," she said calmly, trying to relax her. "We'll do something. Don't worry."

Take it Out on Me

He remembered very few things about his childhood. Real, vivid memories that is. He had plenty of blurred recollections of skate parks and nights at the movies with his friends, but there was a very small cluster of memories from his days as an actual child that he could remember. Visiting his Uncle Crash at the beach was one of them.

He'd never been to the beach before. Having grown up in the Midwest, the closest thing he'd ever seen to ocean water was the lake about two hours away. Even then, it was a lake. There wasn't the smell of the ocean; there were not any waves. The sand didn't even feel the same. Some may say that water is water, but Austin Moon would argue otherwise.

He felt at home by the sea. He didn't remember ever feeling like that anywhere else.

It started the first night he was there. His Uncle, back in the day, was an avid surfer, ocean-person in general himself. He took Austin out his first night—out the backdoor that is—until they were right onto the sand. How awesome was it that his Uncle owned a house on the water? He was lecturing him about swimming at these times, dusk and dawn were dangerous for any person because that was when sharks fed. He said, despite this, the ocean was a beautiful, extraordinary piece of art, a blessing that he should always respect.

He spoke like something out of a movie (he did that often—he was a man of cliché sayings) and because Austin was ten and he really didn't know much about the water, he listened. Then, the next morning, he took him out into it. It was cold—because though it was Miami and it was still 85 degrees in the winter, the water was much chillier. He explained to him that he had to go with the waves. He said things that otherwise just sounded nuts, especially to someone whose vocabulary wasn't that diverse at the time.

He listened though.

It started with swimming. He took him out a couple times that day, and he proved to be a natural.

By the time the second day rolled around, they were buying boards—small ones—from the local surf shop and he was showing him the basics of surfing. That wasn't as easy. He kept nose-diving into the water and it didn't feel good. Sort of like swallowing shower water through your nose, only a thousand times worse. Practice made perfect, his uncle crowed and by the time the sun was starting to set, he'd finally gotten his first wave.

That was indescribable. To this day, he couldn't put words on it.

Soon, he was coming back every summer, spending the majority of the time in the water and practically begging his uncle to let him stay for more than a week or two.

His parents said otherwise. They were worried if he moved down there, that he would spend too much time on the surfing, and not enough time on academics. They had a point there, but that didn't mean he didn't beg them any less. There were other things, too. Things that he probably could have prevented had he not been a moron. But the past was the past. He couldn't change it. Now, out of high school and on his own accord, he did what he wanted. And that meant moving in with his Uncle on the beach and spending the majority of his time surfing, and the rest of it being a bachelor.

"Do you even sleep?"

The question caught him off guard, and he felt his hand skirt off the long-board he was waxing, the wax slipping into the sand. He made a face at this, then at his Uncle who was standing behind him, a weary look on his face. Okay, so the sun wasn't up yet. But it was technically morning, and the horizon promised light within the hour. So yes, he did sleep. Just not like a normal person.

"Yes," he answered verbally. "I wanted an early start."

"You don't plan on getting into the water before dawn, do you?" his Uncle asked worriedly.

"No," he replied, picking the now sand covered wax off the ground. "I was just going to finish waxing my board and then head down to the shop to grab some other necessities. I wanted to be out as early as possible."

"You're going to do fine." His Uncle was his biggest supporter, of course he had to say that. The judges and scouting agents wouldn't say the same. They would pick the best. He had to be the best.

"I'm not even in yet," he replied. "How can I do that?"

"You know what I mean." The blond man smiled affectionately down at his nephew. "Just take it day by day, Austin. I know you have a spot in you. You're my blood, after all."

He looked at his Uncle Braden, often called Crash by the locals and Austin himself. He was in his thirties and he literally resembled something out of a surfing ad. With dirty blond locks and a permanent shadow on his chin, the winning smile and charming personality only added to the whole look he gave off. At one time, he was a local surfer, and a good one at that. He did a competition or two in his day, before a devastating injury took him off the surfboard for good. It was also how he got the nickname Crash—irony, he supposed.

"Doesn't mean anything," he finally retorted. "I need to work at it."

His Uncle sighed, putting his arm on his shoulder. "Relax, kid. Enjoy the ride."

"You sound like something out of a magazine," he snorted.

"You're twenty years old and up before the sun is. Most kids your age are still sleeping until noon."

"Are you saying I should be like them?"

He earned a smirk. Austin knew enough that his Uncle at one point was just like him, so taunting and questioning him was all the more fun.

"No, that is not what I'm saying. I'm saying that you need to relax a little."

"I'll relax when the competition is over," he determined.

The older man chuckled, "There is more to life than surfing."

He didn't want to comment this, but it was easier for the man to say because he was no longer in the water. He didn't have to worry about making it, his surfing days were in the past.

He glanced out at the ocean, watching the waves crash onto shore, the foam settling only a few feet away from where the both of them were standing. Surfing had been his life in recent years. He'd moved down here a year ago, and since then, he'd been working on perfecting his craft in various towns, wherever he could get the best surf that day. In fact, he'd been out of town only until a week ago, traveling with his friend trying to catch the former mentioned.

He didn't have a back up plan; anything else to fall back onto. It was surfing, or bust.

As they chatted, a young dark haired male ran past their house, getting both of their attention if only for a second. He crossed them without even a glance in their direction. Austin realized he should be doing that. Renewed, he looked back at him. "More than life to surfing," he mused. "I'll let you know when I believe that."