"Everything okay?" Hammond asks over the loud music when I finally join his side back in the club.

"Yeah," I lie, cutting my eyes to the floor, "Have you seen Alana?"

"She's over there," he nods, motioning to my friend and her date for the night on the dance floor. "You sure everything is okay? You look upset." "

"No, no," I force out a laugh and a smile, pathetically trying to hide my obvious poor mood. "I just needed to talk to her for a minute, that's all."

Hammond's eyes study me carefully, but he eventually gives up the questioning. "Well, would you like me to grab you another drink while you go do that?" His bright teeth are on full display now, making my stomach twist with regret, knowing that I started off the night with him and ended it by chasing after another man.

"Sure," I grin, trying to mask the self-inflicted disappointment coursing through me right now. Maybe Brodie isn't the one in the wrong after all. How can I expect anything from him when I can't even be honest with my own feelings? He's right; I am hypocritical. How was it fair of me to place boundaries on him because of his chosen career while I make exceptions for someone else?

I've fucked up. Bad.

"Excuse me," I whisper back. With that, I push through the crowd, not looking back in Hammond's direction as I hurry over to Alana.

I grab her arm as soon as I reach her, not saying a word before I begin to lead her towards the bathroom. "Hey, hey," she protests, yanking away from my hold. "I'm dancing, Lela!"

"Come on," I groan, "This is important."

She looks back to Corey, who's silently drawing her back to the dance floor with his blonde hair and blue eyes. After throwing a quiet tantrum, she finally gives in, "I swear to god, it better be. You cost me my dick for the night, and you'll be the one dealing with my sexual frustration for the next month!"

"Oh, calm down," I say, rolling my eyes. Alana throws a finger up to Corey, insisting that she'll be right back to join him again. Not wasting another second, I take her hand quickly, steering us both through the crowd of sweaty bodies. The restroom lights are much brighter than the ones on the dance floor, and I'm blinded by its bright fluorescents and grey tiled floors. Chaotic voices flood my ears as drunken strangers converse through the barriers of the black, metal stalls, but I pay no mind to their presence as my voice rushes out, "He was here."

Alana tilts her eyes down to me, confused, "Yeah, you're gonna have to elaborate some more. I know about a hundred he's."

"Brodie," I sigh with frustration, "Brodie was here."

"No shit? Was he here with someone or?"

One of the stalls creaks open, and I take that as my cue, dragging Alana and myself into it in hopes of giving our conversation more privacy. She casually plops down onto the toilet seat, giving her legs a much-needed rest from her night of endless dancing. "I thought he came with another girl, but he says it was just his friend's sister."

"So I'm guessing you guys ended up talking, huh?" She smooths over the ringlets of her hair while her lips send me a condescending smirk. "I thought you said you were over him? Hence, why you're on this date with Hammond tonight."

"Well, maybe I lied." I cut my eyes up to the ceiling, feeling fed up with my conflicting emotions and thoughts. I exhale an anxious breath before continuing, "I just don't know, Alana. I'm so confused. I thought that I was over him, but seeing him here with that girl tonight, it just- It just made me feel so bad, you know?"

"Oh, chicka," she mutters, softening her face and giving me a sympathetic look. "What the hell are we gonna do with you?"

"There's more," I admit, guilt consuming me. "I kissed Hammond. I kissed him right in front of Brodie, and I did it knowing it would make him jealous."

"Lelani Kahale," my best friend reprimands me, standing up from the toilet seat. "You're better than that."

"I know, I know," I agree, shaking my head. "It didn't mean anything to me. It really didn't. The whole time his lips were on mine; the only thing I was thinking about was how badly I wished it could have been Brodie."

"Why don't you just tell him that? You need to start doing things for yourself, not to please your parents. If you came out with Hammond tonight, you could do the same for Brodie. That is if you really like him as much as it seems like you do."

"No," I argue back, "That's the point. I do like Brodie that much, and that's exactly why I can't get involved with him, Alana. He'll just be another man who builds up my trust and destroys it within a single moment. Everything my Dad is warning me about will come true, and I'll only make him disappointed again. Besides, you should have seen Brodie tonight. If he wasn't done with me before, he is now."

Alana grips my shoulders, making sure my eyes are locked on her's as she affirms, "Not everyone is Jason, Lela. I hate that you had to go through what you did, but you can't control your feelings for someone else. You like Brodie, and there's no sense in you lying to yourself and not being honest about that. I love your Dad-you know I do- but there comes a point where you have to stop letting him and your Mom control you."

"They don't control me," I spit back defensively.

"Then tell me," Alana quips back, "What is it that's stopping you from being with Brodie?"

A banging sounds against the stall door, rattling the barrier and startling Alana and me both. "Hey! There's a shit ton of us out here that need to take a piss, so could you two hurry up in there?"

"Oh, bite me!" We both shout back out. Our glances return to each other, making us both giggle at our natural synchrony.

"But seriously," she speaks out one last time before unlocking the stall, "Don't let all the things that are out of your control interfere with all the things you can control."

I don't say anything back. Instead, I just allow her words to soak in my mind for a minute longer. Maybe I had more control over this situation than I was allowing myself to believe? Maybe deep down, I do really know what I want, but I'm just too scared to admit it to myself?

"Now," Alana instructs, leading us out of the bathroom, "Let's get your confused ass home before Hammond tries kissing you again."

"What about your scheduled dick appointment?"

She sighs, "No dick is stronger than my friendship for you, bitch."

"I love you," I say simply, using those words to express my appreciation for my true-hearted friend.

"I love you, too, chicka. Now let's get the hell out of here."

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My mattress shakes me awake, forcing my eyelids open and focusing my vision on the ratty-haired six-year-old jumping enthusiastically on my bed. "Aiden," I grunt out through my groggy morning voice.

His short legs and stubby feet continue pushing off of the mattress as he breathily gets out, "Momma told me to come wake you two up!"

"It's a Saturday, Aiden," I protest, "Tell Momma that girls need their beauty sleep."

Now my brother is bouncing harder on top of the bedsprings, jolting Alana's and my head up from our pillows. "Momma!" His voice echoes through the house, shouting, "Lela said she needs to sleep away more of her ugly!"

"You little-" In swift movements, I pull my body up, gripping a hand around Aiden's ankle and yanking him down into the heap of blankets strewn on top of us. My fingers start to tickle his sides, breaking him into a winded fit of giggles. "Come on, Alana," I laugh over to my friend, "Help me out here!"

"Sorry," she says, twisting her body away from the commotion and diving her head beneath the darkness of the comforter. The covers silence her voice as she continues, "He said you were ugly, not me. This is your fight, not mine."

Aiden's feet kick back in defense, shoving my hands away. "Gross," he gasps, throwing one final foot in my direction, "Your breath smells like rubbing alcohol!"

"Hush," I scold him, bringing a hand over his mouth. "Don't let Momma hear you say that."

"Don't let Momma hear him say what?" Her voice suddenly sounds up from the hall, sending me into full panic mode. If she found out that my underage ass spent the night downing shots of vodka at a club, I'd be a dead man. On top of that, it would only make her question who I went out with, to begin with. She appears in the doorway, and already I can feel my cheeks starting to heat up. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that. Now get your butt out of that bed and come help me assemble some kebabs. Uncle Robbie will be here in an hour."

I rub my hungover eyes, hoping they'll adjust to the bright afternoon sun streaming into my bedroom. "I thought he was coming over tomorrow? We always get together on Sundays."

"Not this week," she says, brushing her dark wavy bangs away from her sweaty face. She looks tired, surely from being up all morning getting everything together for our weekly cookout with Dad's friend from work. "His littles have a volleyball match tomorrow. So, kebabs," she repeats again, walking back down the hallway, "Now."

Robbie wasn't actually my Uncle, but he might as well be considering his long-term friendship with my Dad. He's seen me in diapers, and now he's seen me, graduate. He's a right-hand man to my Dad's command and one hell of a second father figure to me. I guess waking up wouldn't be so terrible, after all, if it meant seeing him.

"Okay, scram, little rascal," I order my brother, leading him out of my bedroom, "We've gotta get dressed."

"Make sure and brush your teeth, too," He antagonizes. "Wouldn't want Dad to catch a whiff of that awful smell!"

"You say anything to him, and I'll make sure he knows about how you were the one who broke that favorite coffee mug of his that he can't seem to find!

"You wouldn't," he gasps, stomping a foot against the hardwood floor in detest.

"Oh, but I would," I fire back with a sinister smile. Aiden glares up to me through the black curls hanging across his dark, brown eyes- bringing the two of us into a stare-down. "Now, out," I finally say, shutting the door in his face and listening to his footsteps drown out as they carry down the hall.

"You are so tough on him," Alana laughs, scratching the top of her bed head. "Have you heard from Hammond yet?"

Just as she speaks, my phone buzzes to life on my bedside table, calling both of our attention. I dart over expectantly, but I am immediately bummed when the name I'm not hoping for pops up across the screen.

Alana reads the message over my shoulder, inspecting my reaction carefully and immediately gauging my lack of interest. "You know you need to message him."

I shoo her off with my hand, "I'll text Hammond back later."

"You know that's not who I'm talking about, Lelani. You need to message Brodie. Did you forget our conversation last night?"

"Alana, I was drunk last night. Alcohol makes me prone to feeling more emotions."

"Yeah, well, maybe you could do with a bit more of those. You make it sound like emotions are a bad thing. Geez, I give up trying with you," she groans, yanking the covers off of her body and beginning to get dressed.

I cross to my closet, pushing through its beaded curtain as I fire back, "Good. The less we talk about Brodie, the easier it is for me to not think about him, and the less I think about him, the sooner I can get over him. Men are trash, anyways. Down with all men!"

I don't really mean that, but it helps me feel a little better about the situation.

"Then call me a dumpster diver because you won't see me giving up on them anytime soon," Alana quips, making us both laugh.

We end the conversation there, knowing well enough that it can't be continued beyond the four walls of my bedroom. Momma is waiting for us in the kitchen, already prepping the wooden kebab sticks with green and red peppers, pineapples, onions, and chicken. Alana and I waste no time assisting her in preparing the colorful food arrangement. The three of us stay together like this for the next hour, humming to the radio station while our fingers work tediously to stick the marinated food.

When we're finally done, Momma carries two platefuls of uncooked kebabs over to me, asking, "Can you go ahead and take these out to your Dad? He and Robbie should have the grill ready."

"Sure," I say, making my way to the backyard.

As I walk through the backdoor, Aiden is playing with Robbie's two kids, the three of them running energetically across the lush green grass and zooming through the wooden playground Dad built a few years back. Dad and Robbie are chatting by the smokey grill, cold bottles of beer in their hands as they relax under the shade of palm trees. Robbie's green eyes catch mine, a warm smile spreading across his face as he notices me. He quickly rises from his chair, happily taking the plates from my hand as he greets, "Well, if it isn't my Lelani Giovanni!"

"God, that's such an awful nickname," I giggle, scrunching my nose with distaste, "Seriously, Uncle Robbie, you couldn't have come up with anything better?"

"Oh, come on now... I think it suits you. Anyways, you might as well get used to it. I've called you that since you were in diapers, and I don't plan on changing it anytime soon."

"Awesome," I moan, gaining an amused chuckle from my Dad. He keeps an ear on our conversation while his eyes remain on the grill in front of him, which is now sizzling with food.

"So tell me," Robbie begins, "How is that college application going? Your Dad, here, tells me that you're enrolling in the Fall."

I send a glare my Dad's way, "Oh, did he? I don't really remember fully committing to that decision just yet. Dad, enlighten me. When did the two of us have that conversation?"

"Lelani, not now," he warns me, not letting his eyes leave the grill.

"I told you and Momma that I didn't want to start in the fall." I turn to Robbie, directing my words back to him, "I'm actually preparing for a surfing competition in December."

"Is that so?" He grins before tipping back his beer. "Matt, you didn't inform me that there was a competition coming up."

I watch him wince before he bites out, "It's still up in the air."

What does he mean up in the air? I've been planning on participating since I was fifteen, and now that I'm eighteen, the only thing stopping me is my damn parents. Why can't they accept and respect my passions and quit trying to shove their own down my throat? Alana's words come to mind, and suddenly I realize she's right; I do let my parents control me.

"I'm eighteen now, Dad. I don't need your approval on the matter."

He cuts his eyes over to me, narrowing them as he says, "I'm sorry, you must be confused. You're still living under my roof, and under my roof, your education comes first." This wasn't like Matt Campbell- to come off so harshly- and I know he's only doing it the save face in front of Robbie. My head is aching with frustration, and the effects of the alcohol are still lingering in my system. Dad continues his charade, only making my headache worse. "So maybe once you take care of college, we can talk about letting you participate in the surfing competition."

Robbie leans back into his chair awkwardly, trying his best to pretend he's not actively listening to our argument. I cross my arms in detest, spitting back, "You didn't go to college! Why the hell are you trying to force me to?"

"I joined the military, Lelani. I dedicated my life to this country to make sure I had a job that would provide for our family. I don't want you to have to struggle. I want you to be successful. That's not guaranteed with surfing."

"Say's who? Admit it; you just don't think I'm good enough to make it into professional surfing." The words sting as they leave my mouth because deep down, I know that they're true.

"I never said that."

"Oh, give me a break! That's exactly what you think. Mom and you both. I just wish you two could believe in me."

He sighs, "Lelani, I hate to break it to you, but you've got some real learning to do. In the real world, dreams don't always come true. I'm not saying that yours won't, but I'm telling you that you need to have a practical plan to fall back on. Your mom and I aren't always going to be here to clean after your mistakes. You're going to have to start learning to be responsible, and that starts with applying to college."

I'm seething with his implementation, knowing that the core of this disagreement is way deeper than just me attending college. "What the hell do you mean clean after my mistakes? What mistakes are you referring to? The incident with Jason?" Robbie and he both grimace, knowing all too well about the details of that affair. "I made a mistake one time with a stupid fucking man, and you'll never be able to let it go, will you?"

"It was a mistake that affected me, Lelani! I almost lost my job!"

"I was manipulated! I didn't fully understand what was happening! I was a kid!"

"You're still a goddamn kid!" He shouts back, immediately making my chest sore, and my eyes begin to water.

Robbie grips onto my Dad's arm, pulling him back down into a calm state, "Matt, I think that's enough for now."

My teeth grit hard into my bottom lip, putting an abrupt stop to the tears that almost left my eyes. I take a deep breath, standing my back up tall before I start to stomp away.

"Lela, where are you going?" My Dad asks with a solemn tone.

"As far the hell away from you that I can!" I yank the backdoor open, not pausing for a second as I intentionally tread my way through the house and out the front door. I'm sure everyone is calling after me, but my hazy mind won't let me hear them as I crank the engine of my car to life and speed down the driveway.

There is only one thing that can distract me from my chaotic thoughts right now...and that's the waves.

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