Ok. I'm calling you out, Sophie. That last chapter that you said I needed to work on my lengths because you read it in like a few minutes? That was 5 pages in Microsoft Word. Over 2000 words. That was by far the longest chapter! The one before it was 900 words! Haha I said the chapter length wouldn't be consistent. This one is like 1500.

I apologize for not updating—I worked 8 hours Tuesday, 9 hours Wednesday and now my Thursday is looking like a long day, too. (It's currently 1:30 AM on Thursday.)

Anyways, I hope this leaves a cliffhanger because who knows when I'll get to update next :P

American fact of the chapter: Although most of the US speaks English, we do not have an official language. We DO have many different dialects and accents, though. Boston (AKA Northern), Southern, Western, Mid-Atlantic, Eastern…etc. I was born in the north, but moved to the south 13 years ago so I have a hybrid accent. Words I don't use often like "carrot" have a distinct Northern accent, but Southerners tend to say "yall" (as a shortened "you all") when referring to "everyone" while Northerner's say "yous". I say "yall" my parents say "yous."

A week later and neither Heath nor Fly had really said much to one another. True to her word, Fly was civil. But Heath could only find himself treating her like another one of the guys. He couldn't make himself ignore her the way she did to him.

How could she ignore him so easily. Maybe there was even more to the anger than she had let on that morning. That or maybe she no longer held more-than-siblings kind of feelings for him. Or both.

By the time Heath got done with his shower after dinner, it seemed quiet. He grabbed his camera and walked down the hall towards the kitchen, glancing into the rooms as he passed. Empty.

The sound of two pool balls hitting each other reached his ears followed by an eruption of divided cheers. Heath grinned and switched the camera on.

"Now what we have here is a rare sight." He headed for the rec room quietly and turned the camera on himself. "It seems everyone is attending a secret pool tournament that no one happened to tell me about."

"You're just getting lucky. I'm having an off day," an American accent claimed.

"No, I think it's just that you're not as skilled as you kept bragging to be," a male voice teased.

"Well, I think my invite got lost in the mail," Heath announced, stepping into the doorway and aiming the camera into the crowded room. "Seems most everyone is in attendance." All of the older crew was there, but only about half of the younger ones. The other three had taken to the showers. He tried to ignore Fly, pool stick in her hand, looking at him with her grand poker face on.

"No, mate," Matt laughed. "I think it actually got lost in your hair." This threw the older group into laughter.

"Oh, let it die," he groaned.

"You're not still obsessed with recording everything, are you?" Bec whined.

"Aw, you know you love it," Heath grinned.

"I just got the best idea," Perri chirped, jumping off her seat on the windowsill.

"Last time you got a 'good idea'," Jason began, using air quotes, "I got smacked in the face with my board."

"No, that was brilliant," Kacy laughed.

"No, no," Matt started slowly, waving them all away. "I think we're on the same page here." He grinned outright and waited for her to continue.

"Pool tournament, Heath loses and he has to cut his hair back down to the length it was in 2005," she announced proudly. The room was silent for a second before it exploded into chaos.

"I thought you were going to say something else," Matt muttered, crestfallen.

"Mate, there're children in the room," Edge burst into laughter. The noise was visibly getting to Bec. Her eyebrows pulled together and she let out a whistle that shut them all up immediately. She turned to Heath, who hadn't said anything, hadn't moved an inch, and raised her dark brows at him.

"Well?"

"Challenge. Accepted." He snapped his camera shut and passed it off to Fly, taking her stick from her. "And who is my victim?"

"Are you playing on teams?" Steph questioned, crossing her arms.

"I'm not risking my precious hair on someone who will only stuff up just to see me lose," Heath declared, twisting his hands tightly around his stick. "No, this is a one man show." He pointed his stick at Fly. "Make sure you record my success." He realized what he was doing. Treat her like one of the guys. Ok. But wasn't her plan just to be civil? Stick to her plan. He swung the pole and pointed it at Perri. "You made the bet, what's your wager?"

"Me?" She seemed surprised.

"You can't pick on a girl," Jason gasped. Perri rounded on him, eyebrows at her hairline. Matt and Edge exchanged a look. She more or less stomped over to Steph and took the pole she held out for the woman.

"What's your wager?" Heath repeated.

"If she loses," Fly spoke up, with the same spark and energy that Heath remembered so well. Stop, he scolded himself quickly. "She cuts her hair."

"No way," Perri immediately rejected the idea, running her ringers through her long blond hair. "Why don't you play and you can bet your hair."

"Because I don't care either way about my hair," Fly retorted quickly.

"She's got a point," Bec said softly with a smile. Perri glanced around the room at all the hopeful faces.

"Fine," she groaned. Matt took her place on the windowsill with a smirk Heath knew all too well.

"No cheating," he muttered to her as she set the balls up.

"Unlike you," she scoffed, "I don't need to."

"We'll see."

"Fly, make sure you get Heath's face when he loses," Edge laughed.

XXX

Heath leaned back into the couch in the lounge and ran his hands through his hair for the millionth time in the last hour. It felt strange. Lighter. Better and more familiar. Why had it taken him losing a bet to finally get it cut? He instantly looked younger, at least, that's what Perri and Bec claimed as they watched pieces of his dark hair fall to the floor.

It was late. The kids had all gone to bed as it had been well past curfew by the time the pool game ended. Most of the older group had decided to head off to bed, too. As far as Heath could tell, only he and Matt, who were sleeping in the lounge, were still awake.

"What have you recorded on this thing so far?" Matt joined him, Heath's video camera in his hands. He sat down next to him and kicked his feet up onto the table, dropping the device into the man's waiting hands.

"The first half is a surf comp I covered a few months ago," he mumbled, turning it on. "The second half is all us." The tape had filled up and he was curious to see everything he had recorded since arriving. His hit the rewind button and stopped when the numbers matched what he remembered to be the end of the comp.

"The year is 2012. The occasion, is our first reunion after we all left seven years ago. The setting, Solar Blue. The subjects—the best group of people I've ever met—Solar Blue Surf Academy's class of 2005," Heath's distorted voice chirped from the terrible speakers as soon as he hit play.

"I did a little intro," Heath laughed. Matt sat up straighter and leaned over so that they could both see the tiny screen. They watched as Heath introduced each of them.

"Last but certainly not least, we have Fly." Heath's fingers moved to fast forward, but Matt caught his wrist and forced him to endure it. The camera focused on her. The sun glittered on the drops of water flying off the tips of her sun-bleached hair. A coughing sound erupted from the speakers and the camera shook for a second. "Real name Fiona, but more importantly, winner of the girl's wildcard. She might be small, but she's the best surfer I've ever known. And the thing I love the most about her—" The voice stopped suddenly and the camera shut off, the screen going blue for a second before it turned back on, focusing on the sand.

"What happened?" Matt asked.

"Fly came up onto the beach and we talked for a while. We agreed to keep things…civil," he explained, eyebrows furrowing at the image on the screen. He didn't remember this. The next thing he remembered recording was the kids in the house.

"Civil?" Matt raised an eyebrow, but looked back down at the camera.

"How do I know if it's recording?" A female voice muttered.

"That's Fly," Matt whispered, confirming what Heath already knew.

The camera spun and suddenly, Fly's face was in the frame. From what she was wearing, and the time of day behind her, Heath knew exactly when she had done this. It had been right after she told him to keep things civil for everyone else's sakes. This wasn't civil. This was water on the plant.

"Heath," his attention perked at the sound of his name. "I know I agreed to keep things less than friendly with you." Her eyes shifted to something far off in front of her—no doubt him, on the surf. "But I also know you probably won't watch this tape until after we've all left the house again. By then, who knows how I'll feel."

"What is this?" he mumbled.

"Only one way to find out," Matt told him. "And I really don't think it's meant for me to hear, so let me know when you're done." And with that, Heath found himself alone with a recording Fly had made for him. A recording she even said she didn't intend for him to see until they all had parted. He only had one question.

Should he watch it?

Hell yeah.