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"Okay, so you paddle like a dog? Only dogs don't usually use surfboards, and when they do, their owners usually paddle. Anyway, you'll paddle on your belly, and when you feel a wave catch your board you pop up!" Brittany hopped into a crouching position. "You try!"

I followed the steps Britt had suggested. It was harder than she made it look. Finn was already out surfing. Quinn was sunning herself. I'd say she was tanning, but he constantly smeared on SPF 60 sunblock. She and Rachel had that in common, actually. Rachel also wore an elegant yet hilariously-large-brimmed red hat, which matched her red bikini. Quinn's bikini was turquoise, Brittany's was metallic silver and mine was black with red zebra stripes.

When Noah saw me in my bikini, I thought he was going to swallow his tongue. He turned red, and I could practically see steam coming out of his ears. Before he could get started, I pointed out that my suit covered more than Rachel's, which managed to distract him. I'd already had that argument with my dad and was not in the mood to have it again with my bio-dad. Also, he was getting plenty of looks on the beach, showing off his six-pack without his shirt. Did I freak out about it? No, I did not. It is awkward to see random people hitting on your relatives, but the mature thing to do is deal with it, not throw a hissy fit and try to confine the other person to a burqa.

And seriously, who knows the consequences of teen sex better than me? Okay, not counting teenagers who've actually gotten knocked up or caught an STI or something. Whatever, what I'm saying is, I'm not a big fan of risky behaviors, so my dads have nothing to worry about, no matter how small the swimsuit gets. I'm glad it's not that small, though. Brittany says a good wave can destroy a string bikini. "Although if you do lose your bikini? Guys are usually really nice to you and will help you. She basically has the most amazing body I've ever seen, so…yeah, I bet when she lost her suit the guys were really nice to her.

I tried popping up for the third time and got it. Brittany clapped excitedly and hugged me. "We have to try in the water now! Guys, are you sure you don't want to try?"

"I can't Brittany. If I'm injured I won't be able to perform," Rachel said, "But thank you for asking."

"I'm going to try and get that guy to teach me," Kurt said, pointing at a guy a little way down the beach. Kurt was wearing mid-thigh-length trunks and bamboo sunglasses. He managed to look cool, though, like somebody out of a movie from the '60s. The guy felt Kurt's gaze and smiled. "You catch a wave. I'll work on catching him."

"What's the point, Kurt? You're not into random hookups, and you live in New York!" Rachel exclaimed.

"Sweetie, not everything is about some larger goal. It would be fun to have a hot guy teach me to surf, so I'm going to go do it!" He got up and jogged toward the surfer without a backwards glance.

"But you already know how to surf!" Then it was like a light bulb went off over Rachel's head and she laughed. "Let's swim, Noah!" He grinned and threw Rachel over his shoulder in a fireman carry. "Put me down, Puckerman!" He didn't do as she asked until they were in the ocean. He tossed her into deeper water. I laughed, picked up her hat where it had fallen and tossed it onto her towel.

"I don't want to leave you alone, Quinn. Is Mercedes coming?"

"No. She had to go to church. Finn and I skipped our church today, but it's harder for Mercedes to skip hers since her husband's the minister. She also had a solo today."

"Oh. Maybe we should have gone."

"We couldn't let you go back East without seeing the Pacific Ocean. Go surf with Britt. I'll be fine. Finn will want to take a breather soon, anyway."

"Hey, smile, you two!" Brittany exclaimed, then snapped a picture of Quinn and me sitting side-by side on her towel. "Oh, freaky! You look like twins!" She turned her phone to show us the display. We each wore bikinis, similar black sunglasses and a blonde ponytail. Quinn's body was a little curvier, but we had the same hands, same feet—the same proportions.

"Wow. That's…"

"Freaky?" Quinn asked.

"I was going to say 'Cool.' Growing up, I didn't look like my parents. They're both shorter with dark hair and eyes. Mom has these awesome curves. When you're little, your mom is the most beautiful woman in the world, you know? It's hard when you don't look like her. When people would meet us, they'd ask where I got my eyes or my blonde hair. 'Who does she take after?' Once I knew the truth, Mom and Dad would explain to people that I was adopted, and they would look at me with pity. It was just weird. So it's cool to hear someone say I look just like my mom."

Quinn gave me a hug and swiped away a tear from under her shades. "Go surf. Have fun. I'll take pictures."

Brittany grabbed her pink surfboard, which had a fluffy while cat painted on it. I took her spare, which was white with purple hibiscus. We paddled out into the water in a spot away from the more experienced surfers. We sat on our boards and just waited.

"Do you like being a dancer?"

"I love it. I like being a choreographer, too, but not as much. Well, the best is when I get to choreograph a dance and dance it. But I kind of have to become a choreographer."

"Have to?"

"You can't dance forever. It's really hard on your body. Not just the staying-thin-part. You end up with achy joints. You start to get hurt too often. San says there's an expiration date, and after that I either have to become a choreographer or a dance teacher or give up dance altogether. So, chug the milk while it's still good, you know?"

"I never realized. I'm sorry."

"Don't be! I've danced on commercials, TV shows, movies, music videos and awards shows. I'm part of a great dance company, and they're letting me choreograph more and more pieces. It's what I always dreamed of. That or being President. Ooh, wave! Paddle!"

I paddled, but I felt like my heart was being squished between blocks of ice. "I can't do this. I can't do this!" I hadn't told any of them that I hate deep water. When my feet don't touch, sometimes it's like I can't breathe even though I know I'm safe: I can swim and I can float. I just panic.

"Just be a dolphin!" Brittany exclaimed. "You can do it!"

"Be a dolphin," I chanted, feeling like a moron. "Be a dolphin. Chug the milk. Be a dolphin." I pictured dolphins in the movies, skimming through the waves, darting back and forth in front of boats. They always look like they're smiling. I took a deep breath, felt the wave lift my board and popped up onto my feet. The wave surged, and I tried to be relax, letting the water play under my body. A little way from the shore, I fell and the board whooshed over my head, but I didn't hit the bottom or anything, so I just broke the surface and swam toward shore, grabbing my board when I caught up to it.

My bio-parents and their friends were all cheering for me. I did it! I had stopped fighting the water, and it carried me to shore.


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