Yeah yeah. I know. I said they'd be short. DO YOU SEE WHAT HAPPENS TO ME? I set out to write something short and it's like 6 times longer than I wanted it to be.

I've got college exams this week, but summer break starts next week (which is strange because summer is still a month away) But I'm not complaining!

"You know, Heath," Perri started as they all sat on their boards in the water simply talking, "I didn't recognize you at first."

"Why not?" he laughed. "I haven't changed."

"Yes you have," Edge disagreed. "You didn't have the long hair or the stubble when we went on our surfing safari." Heath ran a hand through his hair. He wouldn't consider it long. Sure, it tucked behind his ears and he could probably pull most of it back into a pony tail. He rubbed his chin, which he would admit was a bit rough—unintentionally.

"You guys went on a surfing safari without me?" Matt yelled, splashing Edge in mock anger.

"I needed someone to surf with after I quit the circuit," Edge defended, splashing back. "You had your girlfriend to keep you company."

"Enough," Perri moaned.

"Alright everyone, let's pull it in," Bec called out loudly. "It's getting too dark to see."

Heath watched the waves continue to crash down in front of him. Everyone else turned their boards and headed for the beach. "Just one more go," he said suddenly, paddling out to catch one more wave.

"Heath!" Bec tried to call, but he ignored her.

Heath's board skimmed across the surface of the water, a feeling of elation and adrenaline refilled him like it had been doing all afternoon. He had seriously missed surfing. How could he have given this up—even if only for a year or so?

The wave broke in front of him and Heath could feel himself lose balance. Before he could crash, he jumped of his board and belly flopped into the wave. He tumbled around underwater, tangling in his chord as he fought his way to the surface. A few stray rocks on the ocean floor scuffed him up, but he knew it wasn't that bad from the dull sting.

"You're gonna set a bad example for the kids, Heath," Matt scolded jocularly once he had made it back to shore.

"It'll be alright," he laughed.

They grabbed their stuff and headed for the house. Heath stood in the corner of the kitchen near the sink, trying to be as stealthy as he could with a dishrag pressed into his side. Four of the six kids had gone to change and shower. There was still Grayson and a dark haired girl—Kacy—along with Bec, Edge, and Fly left in the kitchen. The three bathrooms having been filled up, the kitchen was his only option to clean his wound.

"Heath!" someone gasped. His head snapped up to find Edge staring directly at him. Or more specifically—his side. "You're bleeding all over the counter."

"What?" Bec turned away from her conversation with Fly, who was also acknowledging him for the first time that day.

"Am not," he denied automatically, trying to turn the bleeding mess away from them further.

"Let me see," Bec demanded, using her mother hen voice.

"I'm fine," he swatted her hand away, but she just grabbed his shoulder and jerked him away from the sink. The gash wasn't deep, but it was a good three or four inches in length. And it was now in full view of everyone in the kitchen.

"You get that out in the water?" Kacy asked.

"Well, he wasn't bleeding before that last wave," Edge muttered before biting into his sandwich.

Bec turned on the two kids. "This is why we come in when I say to come in," she warned them.

Grayson threw his hands up in defense. "Hey, I did this time! Anyways, we're gonna go work on our science project." He stood up and pulled Kacy towards the stairs.

"Edge, can you go get the first aid kit from the closet in the boys bathroom?"

"Sure," he sighed around a mouthful of sandwich.

"Ow, Bec," Heath grumbled when she splashed some hot water into the cut.

"Oh this is just the start," she snapped. "You're 25, Heath. You're not new to surfing. You shouldn't have gone out again."

"It's because I'm not new to it that it wasn't worse," he defended.

"Stay here. Try not to bleed on the floor," Bec pointed at him, heading for the stairs. "Edge should have found it by now."

An awkward silence rose in the kitchen. The only sound was Fly's fork hitting the plate every few seconds. Every moment they'd spent together since the first time he saw her flew through his head. The day he'd leant her his board so she could surf for the last girl's spot into the academy. Her birthday. Jane. Then there was when the winners were announced. And then three months after that when they stayed to help out with the newest group.

That was the last time he saw her in person. He knew it was his fault she wasn't talking to him. He'd sent that dumb e-mail about Annabel. He thought his best friend would have been happy for him. But obviously she hadn't been—still isn't. She never responded to that e-mail.

Or any of the dozens of e-mails after, for that matter.

He didn't blame her. But still—there was no point in their relationship where they had made their relationship an official and solid thing. So really, she kind of had no right to be mad. She should have responded.

"How have you been, Fly?" he asked in a sudden moment of bravery.

She looked up at him. "What?"

"How have you been?"

"Oh." She looked back down at her plate. "Decent."

"How is the pro circuit treating you?"

She took a deep breath. "It was amazing for the first three years. The last two were a bit…redundant. I felt like it was the same thing over and over."

"You got bored of the pro circuit?" he asked, shocked. "Well, what have you been doing lately?"

"Personal coaching here and there," she shrugged. Her refusal to meet him gaze hadn't gone unnoticed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you moved everything around," Edge's voice carried down the steps as both he and Bec thundered down them. He stopped on the bottom step. "I'm gonna go get changed and shower."

She pecked him on the lips as she passed him.

"Hey, I told you not to bleed on the floor," Bec groaned.

Looking down he noticed the blood had run into his shorts, mixed with the water still in them, and was now dripping onto the linoleum.

"Well, technically you said try."

Bec rolled her eyes. Wordlessly, Fly stood, brushed past Heath to drop her plate into the sink, and then bounced up the stairs.

"What did you do?" Bec asked suddenly, dipping a cotton ball into peroxide.

"What?"

"To Fly," Bec clarified, wetting a washcloth and handing it to him to clean the blood off himself.

"I don't know what you mean," he muttered. She handed him a band-aid with a flat look.

"You do, too. She was fine yesterday." Bec's face fell flat and her eyebrows pulled together. Heath pulled a band aid out of the kit. "Now that I think about it, any time you come up, she either changes the subject or goes silent."

"Bec," Heath sighed, carefully covering the wound, which had finally stopped bleeding. "It's a long story."

"Well, there are two sides to every story." She began to wipe the blood off the counter with bleach. Heath decided to get it off the floor. "I'm not going to rest until I get it out of both of you."

"Why?" he groaned.

Bec leaned against the counter and tilted her head back. "Fly has…she's the kind of person who will help anyone and everyone before she helps herself."

"I know that," Heath said quietly.

"She helped Matt and Perri when they were fighting, she helped Edge when he quit the circuit, and she's come back to help a lot of the new kids through their rough spots." Heath stayed quiet, taking it in. They cleaned in silence.

"Thanks, Bec," Heath whispered when they were done. She nodded with a smile and then headed for the office. Heath's jaw worked as he tried to find the right words. "It's just…" Bec stopped and turned to him. "Fly and I…we never really defined what we had."

"You said that earlier."

"I know—but that was the problem," he said quickly.

"I'm not following." She crossed her arms.

"We both had different ideas of where we were together," he explained slowly, sorrow creeping into his voice. "So, I think when I sent her that e-mail about my new girlfriend I might have ruined everything…"

"Heath!"

"It's too late to do anything about it now," he muttered, passing her to go get the rest of his luggage.

"Says who?" she mumbled to no one in particular.