So here I lie, feeling sorry for myself even though I dragged myself into this mess in the first place.

I should probably start packing up and heading back home, but my body feels too empty to be able to move. My heart is empty, the sort of empty that remains after you're been crying your eyes out for hours, and now you're finally out of tears, there's nothing but that emptiness.

Coming to California, travelling across the States, it was all pointless. What the hell was I trying to do anyway? Find myself?

What a load of bullshit.

Instead of finding myself, I just found a few friends and decent waves. Not to mention a boyfriend who I'm pretty sure wouldn't care if I fell off the face of the earth right now.

Groaning loudly, I sit up in bed, casting a dirty look around at my van.

This van was merely a shell of what it is now when I got it—its insides were totally wrecked, so I renovated it, making it into the retro-chic van it is now.

"What the hell am I doing here, Bessie?" I stand up, kicking over a pile of classic novels.

I throw on a new set of clothes and brush my teeth at lightning speed, trying to avoid all thoughts.

Stepping out of my van into the bright sunshine, I see that the waves are crashing in.

It would be a shame to leave on such a perfect day...

It would, I admit to myself, but I know that Ed and all of his friends will be out there today—so if I'm going to leave, I should leave now.

Turning away from the fantastic surf, I strap my surfboard to the roof of my van, and pack away my generator, carefully winding up the cable.

"Hey, Skye!"

I freeze, oh shit.

Not even looking who called my name, I scramble into my van, slide into the driver's seat and start up Bessie's engine, backing out of the car park and hit the gas.

A quick glance informs me that I haven't left anything behind, and that it was Cole. Who's now standing, staring after me, looking confused as hell.

Guess he didn't see the article then.

I drive to the library, parking up nearby.

Before doing anything else, I need to see if anyone has emailed me.

The librarian looks like she's about to offer me a library card or something for coming so often, so I pass by her as quickly as I can.

Logging onto my email, I'm surprised that my inbox hasn't imploded with the sheer number of unread emails that are now congregated there. The vast majority were spam, from more paparazzi and tabloid magazines, and therefore irrelevant. There were a few important ones that I found after sifting through the mass of emails.

One from a Victoria's Secret spokesperson—only semi-relevant.

One from the admissions lady at UPenn (University of Pennsylvania).

One from my mom.

Five from Savannah.

A couple from cousins and aunties and uncles that I haven't spoken to in years.

I open the ones from Savannah; a couple are apologies for not responding to me yesterday, another is questioning when I'm coming home, and the other two are spam: her asking me for my relationship advice—pfft, as if I know anything about relationships!

The one from my mom is her hoping that I'm well, and saying that I should come home.

Don't worry, Mom, I think, there's not much left for me in Cali.

I cover my face with my hands, cursing quietly.

I need to go home.

That's where I belong, that's where I should've stayed, instead of travelling across the States, wasting time.

I log out of my email account, and leave the library, heading to the nearest phone store.

Using my bank card that my mom wired money to the other day, I buy a brand-new iPhone SE—it's about time I start getting back to who I used to be, the way I used to act.

After thanking the shop assistant, I head back out into the sunshine, sitting down on a bench as I insert my old SIM card into the back of the phone.

I don't dare log into any of my social media accounts, because I know that I'll get so sucked in that I'll lose track of time.

Lifting my phone to my ear, I dial my mom.

"Hello, Mrs Jameson speaking."

"Hi Mom." Tears threaten on hearing her voice.

"Skye!" My mom squeals, "I'm so happy you've finally got a phone again! How are you? I feel like we can have a proper conversation now!"

I swallow, "Been better. That article really got to me."

"I know, honey, I know." Her voice is anything but sympathetic, and she really doesn't 'know', "But I think it's the wakeup call you need, sweetie. It's time for you to come home."

Standing from the bench, I nod, "I know. It's a 40-hour drive, and I can't drive all that time...I'll have to stop at least twice and stay over in a motel."

"Or," My mom counters, "You could by a one-way flight to Miami, and be back home in a tenth of that time!"

I blink—a tenth of 40 is...four! Maths never was my strong point...

"But...but that would mean leaving Bessie, leaving my van here..." The realisation hit me, and it was a miracle I remained on my feet.

"Pfft, get real, Skye." My mom mocks, scoffing and sounding a lot like Savannah, "You don't need that piece of crap campervan any more than you needed to take a break from your life."

My heart pangs at the thought of leaving Bessie behind.

But it's not just that which makes my heart pangs; my mom is making me question whether I should be leaving California at all—what is it exactly that I've got to go back to again?

"Skye, Skye, earth to Skye!" My mom pulls me out of my thoughts, even though she's thousands of miles away.

"Yeah, I'm still here." I respond, but my voice sounds disconnected, empty.

It's all I can do to continue listening to my mom rambling on...

"Victoria's Secret is threatening to cancel your contract with them if you don't return soon...UPenn is saying they want you to reapply for next year...your friends miss you so much...there's so much of your life here that you can come back to..."

"I'll call you just before I leave." I inform her, not commenting on any of her ramblings.

"Okay, sweetheart—love you!" She seems so happy to be getting her daughter back...

Somehow, I manage to mutter out that I love her back, before ending the call.

I glance up at the sky, as the colours shift from mid-afternoon to late-afternoon.

Tucking my phone into a pocket, I wearily walk towards my van, and before I know it, I'm on autopilot, driving back to where I've been parked up and sleeping for the past week or so.

A couple of surfers are out, catching the last of the waves; a couple of sunbathers are out, catching the last of the rays.

I don't think that my heart has been this heavy since I decided that I had to leave Miami.

Which is weird, because why am I so torn up about leaving a place that I barely know, let alone can call my home.

Pulling out my phone, I text the only friend that agreed with me leaving Miami, Emily.

ME:

Hey Em, I finally got a phone again! I'm in California, and I'm guessing that by now you've seen the article in People... I need to talk to somebody, are you free?

Ping! Emily responds instantly.

EMILY:

Hey Skye!!! I'm so happy to hear from you, and it's so great that you made it all the way to California. Tell me, are there any fit guys there? And yeah, I saw the article ☹ I hate paparazzi.

ME:

I hate the paparazzi too ☹ I feel like they've ruined everything, because now everybody wants me to go home... Yeah, there are some fit guys here...one in particular that I've gotten really close to... And I've made friends with his friends, they're lovely. Or, they were before the article...

EMILY:

Girl, you don't have to come home at all! Screw VS, screw UPenn, screw your family – do what you wanna do! Cos you ain't gonna get another chance to live like you're living right now if you come home. Besides, wasn't the whole point of you leaving so that you could find your place in the world? And if you've found all these people you get along with, surely, they'll just accept that that part of your life is gone?

ME:

Idk, my mom really wants me to come home.

EMILY:

Do you love California?

ME:

Yeah...

EMILY:

Then maybe you already have found your place in the world!

ME:

Idk about that...

EMILY:

Look, Skye. Don't come home just yet. Go find your guy, and explain everything to him.

ME:

...

EMILY:

I'm serious! Get your cute butt out of your van and go find him!!!

Rolling my eyes at her, I get my butt out of my van, locking it up behind me.

Emily's right; if I really love it so much here, and love the friends I've made here, then maybe I have found my place in the world.

Maybe California is where I'm meant to be...and Ed's who I'm meant to be with...

Thanks to Emily, I now have a new outlook on everything; I'm a 22-year-old woman that doesn't have to go home when her mother tells her to, or follow everybody else's expectations—what if I set my own expectations?

Grinning, I run down the sand dunes to the beach, nearly crashing into where Cole and Jessica are—hold on—where Cole and Jessica are MAKING OUT?!?!?!?!

"Oh sorry!" I squeak out, already walking away.

"Skye!" Both of them blurt out immediately.

"Yes...?" I turn back to them.

Jessica stands up and comes over to me, throwing her arms around me in an unexpected hug, "You need to find Ed."

"I know." I hug her back, pulling a tired face at Cole, "But I'm pretty sure he'll hate me after that article."

"After you left the sandwich bar," Jessica pulled away, explaining, "We read the article."

I suck in a deep breath.

"And it didn't change anything about what we think and feel about you." She smiles, seeing the anxiety leave my body, "Skye Jameson, whether you like it or not, we still wanna be friends with you, for as long as we can."

"Thank you!" Not for the first time today, my eyes tear up, "I thought that you would hate me."

"Skye," Cole tells me, standing up, and coming over to us, looping his arm around Jessica's waist, "We get it. We totally get it—did you think that none of us have ever been forced into things by our parents?"

"How do you...how do you know?" I frown.

"You didn't read all of the article?" Jessica mirrors my frown.

"There was an interview from your parents," Cole butts in, "Your dad said how much he wants you to go to UPenn and your mom said how desperate she is for you to become a model..."

"Holy shit," I swear, shaking my head, "Just when I thought my parents actually cared about me..."

"You need to find Ed." Jessica repeats.

"I know." I nod furiously, beginning to jog away from them, "Thank you so much! And have fun making out!"

"Skye!" I hear Jessica shriek after me, but I'm already picking up my pace, running towards the Oasis Moon café—laughing, wind tangling my hair.

"Do-you-know-if-Ed-is-here?" I pant out all in one breath.

"He just left," The brunette from the other day pouts at me, "Sorry, but he was looking for a girl a lot like yourself, if that helps?"

"That helps." I nod, already backing out of the café, "Thanks."

And then I'm running along the beach again, eyes frantically scanning for Ed.

There's so much I want to say—so much I need to say...

The thought of me leaving California is now so far away; all I can think about is Ed.

I think I love him.

I nearly stopped running at that thought—the thought that I think I love him.

But it's true.

Love is defined as an intense feeling of deep affection.

And I sure as hell have intense feelings of deep affection to Ed. Despite only knowing him for such a short amount of time, I know that I feel this deeply about him.

I reach a harbour, with a long line of rocks going out into the sea.

And there's a single person sat at the very end.

And it had to be Ed.

It just has to be.

Carefully, I begin picking my way along the rocks, trying not to break my ankle along the way. The fact that the wind picks up whilst I'm scaling across doesn't help either, and I'm nearly knocked off of balance more than once.

I swear to God, if this isn't Ed, I don't know what I'll do.

I draw closer, and slow down a little.

It's him. Thank God; it's him.

He's sat facing away from me, watching as the sun begins its descent towards the horizon.

"I know you're there, Skye." He announces.

I bit my lip, stepping my way over to him, and seating myself close but not too close to him.

"Hi." I glance across at him, and then away again—his facial expression unreadable.

"Hey." He responds, but his tone of voice isn't nearly as cold as I was expecting, "When were you planning on telling me?"

"I was trying to find the right moment." I say, but even I don't believe myself.

"Yeah, right." He scoffs.

"You're right," I begin admitting the truth, "I wasn't planning on telling you. I didn't want your view of me to change."

"And now you think it has?" He looks across at me, sea-green eyes locking onto my own eyes—undoubtedly staring deep into my soul.

"Yes..." I respond, unsure. "I'm so sorry I didn't tell you before...I understand if you don't want to see me anymore."

"Skye." He shakes his head, standing up, and for a second I think he's about to walk off, but he simply sits closer to me, "That article couldn't change my mind about you even if it was postered on every streetlight in every street in every state.

I supress a smile, pressing my lips firmly together, "Does this mean you don't hate me?"

"Skye." Ed moves a little closer to me, "The way I feel about you is the opposite of hate."

The mood between us softens, and I feel comfortable, at ease, and I'm not worrying about anyone or anything.

I loop my arms around his neck, planting a kiss on his cheek, "Thank you."

"I mean what I said about the way I feel about you being the opposite of hate." He tells me, resting his forehead against mine, hands resting on my back.

"I know." I grin, kissing his lips briefly.

"Skye, I—" He begins.

"I love you." I interrupt, throwing the three little words out into the open.

"Damn you, Skye Jameson." He laughs, "I wanted to say it first!"

I roll my eyes, kissing his lips more passionately.

"I love you too." He reciprocates my feelings, "I know we've only known each other for a week, but I know that I need you in my life for as long you want to be in my life."

Beaming from ear to ear, I kiss him, my tongue quickly slipping inside his mouth, inhaling him. He kisses me back with just as much passion, hands moving to my butt to lift me round to his lap.

My body instinctively grinds against his crotch as he brings our bodies close together, tongues tangling together in each other's mouths, my hands running through his tousled hair, whilst his hands trace up and down my back – making my body hot.

"I want to watch the sunset." I tell him, pressing a hand against his strong chest before this can go too far.

"Okay, babe." He kisses me once more, before lifting me back onto my own rock.

"I didn't mean I didn't want to sit with you." I pout, moving closer to him again, resting my head against his shoulder.

"I know, but I was gonna have a problem if we stayed sat like that." He raises an eyebrow at me, and planting a kiss on the top of my head.

I laugh at him, shaking my head ever so slightly.

The sunset is so beautiful, probably more beautiful now that my heart and mind are at ease; the emotional turmoil between Ed and I is resolved, and right now, I feel like the happiest girl in the world.

Softly I start singing a song to myself, as the sun draws nearer and nearer to the edge of the horizon, the sky darkening above us, whilst along the horizon it looks as if it's catching fire.

"Nothing's ever what we expect
But they keep asking where we're going next
All we're chasing is the sunset
Got my mind on you

"Doesn't matter where we are, are, are, are,
Doesn't matter where we are, are, are, ar-are,
Doesn't matter no,
If there's a moment when it's perfect
We'll carve our names
As the sun goes down..."

The song is called 'Sun Goes Down', and is by Robin Schulz and Jasmine Thompson—and it's so appropriate for this moment.

"I love you, Skye." Ed repeats, warming my soul.

"I love you too, Ed." I smile back, the last of the sunshine disappearing.

*~*~*~*

Ed drives me back to my van not long after that, and I'm so grateful that I have him in my life.

"Thank you." I stand on my tiptoes to kiss him goodnight, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." He smiles down at me, kissing my forehead. "Don't leave in the middle of the night, got it?"

"Got it." I nod, climbing into my van, "I love you, Thaddeus Reiley Junior."

"And I love you, Skye Jameson." He replies, and I could tell that he wanted me to invite him inside.

Not tonight, I think.

"Night, Ed." I smile, taking one last look at the Greek god of a boyfriend that I love.

"Night, Skye." He smiles as well, before climbing into his truck and slowly driving off.

I text Emily before going to sleep.

ME:

I sorted it out, and we told each other we love each other. Thank you so much for your help. I don't think I'll be coming back to Miami for a while 😊

EMILY:

I'M SO HAPPY FOR YOU!!! Stay in Cali for as long as you want, just stay in touch with me at least 😊. Sleep well.

And with that, I power my phone off, leaving it in the glovebox, before getting comfortable in bed.

My last thought before I go to sleep is about Ed.

I guess this is what being in love feels like...