It's gone 11 o'clock by the time I'm fully awake.

Washing off the sand and salt from last night's swim was especially hard, as it had become stubbornly glued onto my skin.

I also forgot to have dinner last night—I forgot all about my couscous after things with Reiley—so I make myself an omelette on the cooker, as soon as I'm washed and dressed into some new clothes.

I choose denim shorts and a plain white cropped vest—comfy and pretty, but practical as well, with my bikini underneath.

Being next to the sea is so calming, the constant crashing of the waves is reassuring because you know that they'll always continue, always be there.

The rising sun starts heating up the air quite quickly, and I grab my hat, sunglasses and sunscreen from inside my van. Wearing sunscreen is important, even if you want to tan; especially if, like me, you burn really easily.

Once I'm finished up at my van, I survey the sea and, seeing that there are literally no waves, I get my beach towel and book.

I'm about halfway through Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë now, one of the many classic novels I either brought with me from home or bought on my journey.

Laying my towel down on the beach, I sit down and continue reading my book, instantly submerged into the story. I pause to take off my vest so I'm in my bikini top and shorts, and apply some more sunscreen.

A few hours pass in which I just read, nothing else happening; I seem to have found myself a quiet bit of the beach, minus the beach hut café half a mile away from me.

The beach hut café...Reiley.

Oh great. Now I'm thinking about him again.

I roll over onto my front, and groan, face down on my towel.

I wish the surf was good already; at least then I'd have something to do other than lying here reading.

Huffing impatiently, I sit up and roll my things into my towel, tucking the bundle under my arm and pushing my sunglasses up onto my head.

I'm heading to the beach hut café, Oasis Moon, if you hadn't figured that part out yet.

Reiley's nowhere in sight when I step into the café, there's a brown-haired woman barista behind the counter.

"Excuse me, do you know if Reiley here?" I ask her, biting my lip slightly.

"Reiley...? Oh, Reiley!" She realises who I'm talking about—how many people called Reiley are there round here? Surely, not that many people work in this café...? "Reiley had the night shift last night." She tells me, eyes narrowed, "So, he's not here until 5 tonight, and probably won't be on the beach 'til then."

Damn, the time's only 1 o'clock now. It'll be hours before I see him again.

"Right, thanks." I force a smile as she frowns at me.

Shaking my head at myself, I leave the café—why am I so desperate to see him again?

To be fair, it's probably (definitely) got something to do with the fact that I know literally no one else here in California.

I need to get my shit together; I'm 22 years old, a fully-grown woman, and I'm acting like a teenager over a guy I met last night.

Some part of me needs to wake up and smell the coffee—c'mon Skye Jameson, you aren't 16 anymore.

I had the first love of my life when I was 16... I realise numbly, or so I thought I did anyway.

Sighing heavily, I plop down onto the sand, not even bothering to unroll my towel, and just sit on the bundle.

I stare out at the ocean, something that I'm finding myself doing a lot since getting here. I've not seen the ocean since I left Miami, and so I guess part of it feels like being back at home.

Not that I want to go home. Not yet, anyway.

When I left, I left pretty darn quickly, and not looked back.

Okay, so maybe I looked back via one of my wing mirrors as my family waved me off from our front porch.

My sister, Savannah, who's younger than me by just over a year, sobbed when I left. She didn't understand why I had to go.

"I don't get it, Skye!" She wailed as I threw all my stuff into a bag. "You have everything you want here, why d'you have to go and leave? Especially in that crappy old van that will probably break down as soon as you get onto the interstate!"

"Hey," I'd snapped at her, "Not a word against Bessie."

That's right: I'd had my campervan not two weeks and I'd already named her. It's an appropriate name, because my one of my aunties is called Bessie, and she loves to travel so it fits nicely.

Despite the sea being as flat as a pancake, I think I can see some figures out on boards.

What the hell? I sit up, and shade my eyes against the sun.

I'm right; there's a group of three or four people out on boards, with paddles.

The name for those boards evades my mind, and no matter how hard I try, I still can't think of what they're called.

I think it's Something Paddleboards—great detective work, I know.

The guys out on the boards paddle around for a little longer, alternating between resting on their knees and standing up, before they make their way into shore.

I let my sunglasses slide to the end on my nose as I watch them come in.

There's three guys and a girl – the guys are wearing boardshorts and rash vests, and the girls in a rash vest and bikini bottoms.

The boards that they were on are huge and awkward, much bigger and thicker than surfboards are. The girl's struggling to carry her board and her paddle, and I'm about to spring to my feet, before one of the guys notices that she's struggling, doubles back and takes her paddle from her. He's now carrying his own board and two paddles under his strong-looking arms.

Who says chivalry is dead? I grin as I see the evidence that there are still some kind-hearted men left in this modern world. Maybe he's her boyfriend, but still, a chivalrous boyfriend is better than a non-chivalrous boyfriend...if that makes sense.

The grin freezes when I see who the 'chivalrous' guy is—yep, you guessed it; Reiley.

So much for him not being on the beach until 5 o'clock.

I don't even deliberate just letting him walk by before I scramble to my feet.

"Hey, Reiley!" I call to him, sounding desperate—I almost shudder at how whiny and pathetic I sound.

"Skye?" He frowns at me.

I jog towards him, aware that my bikini doesn't offer much support.

"Hey!" I smile, and gesture to the board tucked under his arm, "What is that again?"

"It's a stand-up paddleboard—or a SUP." He explains, "They're great if you want to get out on the water even though there's no waves." He hesitates, and I speak.

"I knew they were something paddleboards." I rush, my words sounding stupid even to me.

"I'd be more than happy to take you out one time." He offers, a grin on his face.

"Oh, yeah." I nod, "I'd like that."

"C'mon, Teddy! We're gonna be late!" One of the guys yells towards us.

Who the hell is Teddy? I think, brow furrowed.

"I'll be right there, Cole!" Reiley yells back.

"Who the hell is Teddy?" I exclaim incredulously. "I thought your name was Reiley?"

"It is." He assures me, already walking away, "Teddy's just a nickname."

I narrow my eyes at him, "But you'd prefer me to call you Reiley."

"Yep, I'd like that." Greek god 'Reiley' grins at me, then jogs to catch up with his friends.

Cool, I purse my lips and nod my head acceptingly, I'm desperate to see him, and when I finally do see him, we exchange less than 100 words. Not that I counted or anything.

Annoyed at myself, I angrily snatch my things off the sand and storm up to my campervan.

"What the hell am I doing, Bessie?" I lean against her.

Yes, I'm talking to my campervan, suck it up and deal with it.

I change back into my vest and grab my flipflops, prior to heading into the nearest town.

Every time I set up somewhere for a little while, I go to either a library or an internet coffee shop and email my mom, just as she made me promise that I would do.

I struggle to keep the smile on my face as I start composing the email.

Hi Mom,

I arrived in California last night. The weather's good, but no surf yet.

I met a guy and his name is Reiley. He's kind –

My words sound detached and I'm bringing up a guy I've known for less than 24 hours, so I hit the backspace key, and start again.

Hi Mom!

California's great, I arrived here last night. It's super sunny, but there's not been any surf yet. I'm hoping to get out in the next couple of days.

I've only spoken to a couple of people around here, but they all seem lovely.

Bessie's still holding up well (like I told you she would!), and I'm still washing my clothes every Sunday, at a laundrette, and I'm still eating and washing well.

Hope you, dad and Savannah are all well. Send Granny my love.

Love from,

Skye xxx

I hit send and release a breath that I didn't realise I'd been holding.

Part of the promise that I made with my mom was that after I'd emailed her, I'd wait half an hour for her to respond.

Even with three hours' time difference between Florida and California, she still responds within about ten minutes.

Hi Skye Blue!

I'm glad you made it to California without any more issues—but I still don't trust your campervan one bit—so continue being vigilant on the roads.

Excited for you to get surfing again, hopefully the surf picks up soon! But try not to trust too many strangers.

I'll wire some more money into your bank account, so you can buy a phone or a laptop or anything else you want.

Your Granny's doing okay, but there are definitely days when she doesn't remember me, or your dad, or your sister. I'm not sure she remembers you at all, Skye Blue :(

All my love,

Your Mamma xxx

My heart pangs a little at my mom's words about Granny. She's had dementia for the past few years, but my mom didn't need to say that she doesn't remember me at all.

I log out of my email account and shut down the computer.

Needing some music to cheer me up, I pull out my iPod Shuffle and earphones, and hit play.

The first song that comes on is 'What Would I Change It To' by Avicii comes on—great song, great artist...it's so sad what happened to him.

Rest in peace, Tim Bergling; your music lives on even though you do not.

But I push that out of my head, aware of my circle of influence, and focus on happy vibes instead.

Dramatically pushing the library doors open with both hands, I step out into the sunshine, just as the lyrics start to the song. I slide my sunglasses back onto my nose, and try to resist singing the lyrics aloud, instead just humming them.

Steady yourself even though you know that you're falling
Maybe you're falling but you're still alive
Ready yourself, that's quite enough of your bawling
'Cause baby you're bawling but you'll survive
Ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh—

"Oof!" I bump into someone's back, obviously not noticing where I was going.

"Watch where you're going!" They exclaim unnecessarily.

"Okay, okay!" I raise my hands up and go to move around them, placing my fallen-out earphone back into my ear.

"Hey, wait a sec...you were at the beach earlier." He (yup, I know, another guy) places a hand on my shoulder.

"Don't touch me," I shove his wrist, but to no avail.

He laughs, but takes his hand off me, "You were speaking with...Reiley, right?"

What is it with people round here and Reiley's name?

"Yep, I met him last night." I proclaim.

"I'm Cole," He holds his hand out to me—he's the one that called Reiley 'Teddy'.

I shake it cautiously, "Skye."

"What do you think of Reiley then?" He smirks, letting go of my hand and pushing some brown hair behind his ear.

"He's pretty cool, I guess." I shrug and pause my iPod, figuring that this conversation isn't just a passing one.

"He must like you quite a bit." Cole muses, wrinkling his freckled nose at me.

"How come?" I frow at him.

"Because Reiley isn't one of those people that makes new friends easily." He explains, crossing his arms.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I inquire, instantly prepping myself to defend Reiley.

"Ah, shit. I gotta go." Cole glances at his phone, "I'll catch you later, Skye."

"Wait, what did you mean about him not making new friends easily?" I yell after him, as he starts off.

Cole turned around and shrugged, arms wide, "He's just a bit of a lonely soul, our Reiley."

"Bye..." I say, but Cole's already gone.

A lonely soul, huh? Greek god Reiley's lonely?

That I can relate to.