Disclaimer: I don't own this [waves hands wildly] any of it! Well maybe the plot but that was inspired by some other things so technically yeah, it's just for fun, to get the writing bug out of my system, don't sue me-- I don't have the time for it.


It's six weeks into school, and Bradin has settled into a nice routine consisting of school, football practice, and helping out at the surf shop and at home.

During the first week of school, he and Sarah used to e-mail each other several times a day, but the habit died off quickly, and Bradin imagines he knows why. Though the girl claims to be a "hopeless romantic," Bradin had a hard time imagining her in a You've got mail scenario.

But Bradin had adjusted nicely, making friends on the football team and in his classes. Life is a whirlpool, with different people getting caught up into your life— some stay and some don't; it was a lesson he grasped when he lost his parents.

Bradin is now situated at a table with some guys on the football team.

Conversations are buzzing around him about various events like parties and the upcoming homecoming game. Bradin is sorting out the items on his tray absentmindedly as he looks around the cafeteria. (Aunt Ava had given up on packing lunches because Nikki wanted a different thing everyday while Derrick wanted the same thing everyday and it was just easier to let them buy lunch.)

"Dude, she's not here." A voice draws his attention back to the table, it's Adam, the one buried in sand.

No, it isn't an alternate universe, Adam doesn't have an athletic bone in his body, as suspected. That's why he volunteered to be towel/water boy/manager of the football team so he can get into the free P.E. period without actually having to exercise. Oddly though, the guys on the team took to him kindly, Bradin has a suspicion Adam tutors them too come test time.

"What?" Bradin pops open his bottle of Snapple.

"You're looking for her," Adam smirks as if he is reading Bradin's mind.

"Who?" Bradin takes a drink.

Adam rolls his eyes and mutters, "Right, if you want to play that game."

When Bradin doesn't further the conversation, Adam takes another stab, "Lea eats lunch outside sometimes to get away from— " He waves his hand about the cafeteria. "If only we could all be burdened by unwanted popularity."

Bradin winces inwardly at Adam's characterization of Lea—by now he and Lea had become good friends, and he knows that if anything Lea isn't your typical teenage drama queen.

It isn't just that kids wanted to be her friend because she is pretty and her older brother is the best basketball player to grace the school since its founding. The students and teachers here actually like her. Not that Bradin doesn't see their point—Lea is gorgeous but she doesn't know it, smart but she doesn't flaunt it, and witty but she isn't harsh.

She doesn't walk on eggshells around Bradin because of his parents—which he appreciates. He's even been able to talk to her about how he feels about well, being orphaned, the move to California, and how he gets homesick once in a while.

Lea never pushes him to talk. But when the subject does come up, she doesn't just utter irresponsible reassurances. She doesn't say stupid things like "you must feel horrible." or "I know how you feel." She just listens, and acknowledges and respects his emotions.

When he's around Lea, Bradin feels at ease yet stimulated at the same time. He feels invigorated when she's around, and when she's not, he wants her to be.

She's perfect. Bradin thought as he picked out the tomatoes in his turkey sandwich.

As Bradin swallows his food, a girl he recognizes to be on the cheerleading squad approaches their table and a hush falls over as boys immaturely jab elbows with each other under the table—as if no one could see.

"Hey Bradin," she flips her shoulder-length blonde hair over her shoulders with forced intention.

"Hey," for the life of him he couldn't remember her name.

"Hey Samantha." Now Bradin knows why it's convenient to have Adam around.

"So," the Samantha girl bats her eyelashes at Bradin, "do you have a date to the homecoming dance?"

"No," Bradin can see where the conversation is going and he isn't sure if he wants it to, so he pulls out a phrase from the "Jay and Erica" quote bag. "Uh, I don't know if I'm going to go with anyone, I think I'm gonna play it by ear."

In truth, he isn't sure if he was going to go with anyone.

In truth there is only one person he can imagine taking.

Lea.
You'd have to be deaf, blind, and mute to not notice the charm that is Lealana Noel.

Especially when she's three inches next to you, smelling like a tropical cocktail, perched on a bar stool at your kitchen counter in a fitting tank top and running shorts, bangs falling haphazardly but sexily out of her ponytail about her face as she chews on the eraser of a mechanical pencil.

Even her flaws are endearing in Bradin's eyes.

She is impeccably neat about her homework to an obsessive-compulsive degree; she has a propensity to walk into inanimate tables and chairs. She has a hard time sitting still in class, but when she reads she's as quiet as a mouse. She gets excited about classic literature and will talk to anyone who would listen, or in Bradin's case, pretend to listen as he stares.

Before her cross country races, she gets incredibly nervous and moody; and the girl hates to lose—although she rarely does, as Adam had told Bradin once that Lea actually holds the school record cross country and several track events.

She is one of the shorter girls in their class, but Bradin finds her petite figure to his liking, he imagines that she'd fit just perfectly under his chin in his arms.

They are seated around the kitchen counter and Lea is muttering to herself about derivatives of x, while Bradin tries desperately to suppress his own hormones. It always amazes him how she smells like coconuts and citrus—just the right blend of pleasant tartness. After Bradin brought her to the beach house the first time, Jay and Johnny immediately told him he needs to "go for it".

Not that Bradin hadn't considered "going for it." But it was more difficult than imaginable, mainly because for all her intelligence, Lea is oblivious to the fact that Bradin can't take his eyes off of her whenever she's in the room.

As Lea lets out an exasperated "Calculus-is-the-bane-of-my-existence" sigh, Ava strolls into the kitchen, pizza boxes in arm. "Hey Lea!" Johnny is following in her wake with two liter soda bottles in hand and a bag of ice, "Hey Lea!"

"Hi Ava!" She hops off the stool to help lessen the load. She wrinkled her nose at Johnny, "Hey traitor!" They are in midst of an ongoing argument about the questionable trade of ex-Laker Shaquille O'neal from the summer. Lea, a born and raised California kid is a fervent Laker fan, while Johnny, being originally from the east coast favors the Sixers and is glad that Shaq returned to the east coast.

"Can you stay for dinner?" Bradin tries not to sound too hopeful.

Lea first looks at Ava, who assures her that, "You're always welcomed at the beach house!"

"Thanks! But let me check in with my parents." She motions towards the phone. Johnny and Ava exchange approving looks, they really think this girl is good for Bradin—she's polite, she's bright, and she doesn't hate her parents!

While they were talking, Jay was on the phone and when he hangs up to hand it over to Lea, he announces that "Erica's coming over!"

In thirty minutes, the masses are eating pizza off of paper plates, with the adults at the kitchen table. Nikki, Derrick and Martha are parked in front of the television, so Bradin and Lea were shooed out to the terrace.

As they are carrying their food and drinks out, Erica strolls up to the house, "Hey guys!"

"Hey Erica!" Lea grins at her fellow local girl.

"You better go inside and get your food quick, Johnny's hording the pepperoni." Bradin warns.

"Gotcha." Erica pulls open the creaky screen door and steps into the kitchen where she's greeted by everyone inside.

As she settles down into the tall bar stool at the counter next to Jay, Erica glances out the window at the teenagers. "So Bradin's been spending a lot of time with Lea."

As if being the darling of Playa Linda High isn't enough, Lea is also adored by everyone at the beach house.

Derrick and Nikki love her because she talks to them about books, and puts aside the new additions for them at the library. Johnny and Jay are guys and men are fundamentally shallow and judge 75% by appearances. Susannah thinks she has good enough complexion to be a face model ("it's a shame she's not taller"), and Ava thinks that she's a good influence on Bradin, because whenever she's at the beach house, she actually makes Bradin study.

"She seems really wholesome," Ava asserts in a motherly manner.

"Geez Ava, why don't we just give Bradin a bran muffin." Susannah retorts.

"No, but Ava's right. Lea is a really good girl." Erica speaks up for her fellow local. "She's as normal as they come around here."

"I just don't think it's a good idea for Bradin get into another relationship so soon." Ava purses her lips.

"Ava! He's 16! He's hormonal! Anything else would be abnormal!" Johnny reassures her.

Outside on the terrace, Lea is concentrating on picking off the olives and anchovies from her pizza, rogue bangs being blown by the soft evening winds.

Bradin watches her interestedly as he contemplates how to bring up the subject of the homecoming dance, "So, Samantha came up to me at lunch today."

"The cheerleader?"

"Yeah,"

"Oh," Although Lea's voice is even, she feels like her stomach just dropped to the pits, but brushes it off as a sign of hunger.

"And she asked me about the homecoming dance." Bradin watches Lea's face for any change in expression.

Lea looks over and all Bradin sees is the wicked twinkle in her eye, "My, my, will the world need to be prepared for more spawns of the blonde?" But she follows her comment by saying that "Samantha's a nice girl, she's got a cute nose."

"Well, I told her I was going to just play it by ear." Though Bradin's eyes are trying to send Lea a different message.

"Always the Casanova." Lea rolls her eyes.

Bradin ignores the dig for now. "What about you?"

"Hmm? We'll see." Lea vaguely replies.

"You're going aren't you?"

Lea looks pensive.

"Well, you have to go, don't you?"

Lea gives him a frown that says "I do?"

"Well, you're probably going to be in the running for homecoming queen"

The students at school had filled out ballots in homeroom, and Bradin knows for a fact that Lea's name was on every one of those slips since he had to collect them.

Lea waves off his question breezily, "No way." Apparently she isn't into the grandeur of high school popularity censuses, which doesn't surprise Bradin.

"Why?" He asks anyway.

"J.B. is more into that sort of thing. He was Homecoming King last year. Can you imagine vying to be your brother's Queen?" Lea shudders at the thought. She prides herself on being open minded about almost everything but incest falls outside of that list by about 26 miles.

Bradin chuckles lightly.

"I'll probably end up going though, you know, to cheer for J.B." Lea adds with a roll of the hazel-green eyes.

"Well, who's gonna be your date?"

Lea shrugs nonchalantly, "It's not a big deal. I usually get no offers and end up going with Adam or with a group."

Bradin finds it hard to believe that Lea would have trouble getting an escort—but on the flip side, as a guy he understands how intimidating a girl like Lea can be, as he's trying to deal with that problem himself as we speak. He also has an inkling that the words "touch my sister and Die! – J.N." graffiti on the walls of the boys locker room might have something to do with it.

"What about you?" Lea drops her pizza on her pate, apparently done with her dinner. "So no Samantha. What about her friend Gabrielle? You know who I'm talking about? She cheers too, the one with curly brown hair?"

Bradin shakes his head. "What makes you think I'm into dating cheerleaders?"

Lea shrugs, "if the shoe fits."

"Are you saying I'm shallow?" Bradin pretends to be hurt. "You have a mirror in your locker." "So do you!" "I'm a girl!" "Double standard!" Bradin calls her on her weak excuse. But Lea isn't one to give up an argument easily. "Are you saying that appearances don't factor into your female rating system?"

There is a pause before Bradin answers.

"Yes!"

Lea snorts, "Well, my apologies then."

"Not forgiven."

"Aren't you just the quintessence of maturity."

"Using big words to confuse me will get you no where."

"Please oh please, Bradin Westerly, please, what can I do to regain your confidence." Lea puts on an exaggerated earnest look; sarcasm dripped from her monotonous plead.

"Go to the homecoming dance with me."


A/N: Not much to say-- hope you're enjoying this. I'm considering changing the title of this story. But I think it's a technicality I can write myself out of. read and enjoy, review if it's to your fancy please