It's an odd feeling being underwater; it's not uncomfortable if you're expecting it. I look forward to it most mornings as I take my surfboard out and ride a few waves, the stress of the upcoming day and the world kind of melts away with every ripple and every wave that either pushes me to shore or below the water's surface.

Today was a little different to the rest, this morning's surf had been my last for the foreseeable future.

See, my parents were divorced when I was three or four years old, one of the last times I saw my dad was at six. By then he had found himself a new wife and half a new family, the woman came with one kid and another on the way. Neither belonged to my dad, but they were both apparently better than me, my dad didn't even call to say happy birthday, and I guess that was what ate me up a lot.

The very last time I saw my dad I was fourteen, by then I had been surfing for nearly eight years. I distinctly remember the surprise written across his face as my mom told him that I had been skipping school to hang out at the beach. Surfing was what made me happy and being near the water was always comforting, it distracted me from the taunts of kids at school.

My home was one of the few that wasn't 'complete' and it was just more fuel for my peers to drag me down. What was the point of going to school if I was being pushed around, insulted and made to feel anything other than happiness?

At the age of fourteen, my parents had come together for the first time that I could remember and agreed on something. I hated them both for that; my mom was more interested in running her business so was away more than she was at home. And my dad? Well, he was more interested in his kids and his ranch more than he was in knowing what I was doing.

It irked me, but they had what I needed to get my name and face out into the surfing world, and that was money.

In exchange for the monetary support I would need to keep my grades up at school, once the kids in my classes realised that I was something other then a 'loser' their attitudes changed. Suddenly I was it; girls wanted to be my friend, and guys wanted to date me. It was ridiculous; I was fourteen and guys were pretty much lining up.

Playing it cool I pretended that the guys were just not good enough for me, I didn't want to lose what little respect I had gained just by being good at what I loved. High school reputations were a fickle thing, one day you were in and the next you could be out flat on your ass in the blink of an eye.

It was just the other day that I arrived home to see my principal sitting at the dining room table with my mom, both their expressions were grim as I walked in and planted my school bag on the floor.

I knew then that I couldn't lie my way out of this one and after the principal had left my mom gave me an earful and then promptly burst into tears. It wasn't that I was a naughty child or that I was dumb, I just hated sitting in classes all day when I could instead be sitting on my surfboard practising for the upcoming surf tour that I was scheduled to be at.

Two days after the principal had called around to our house my mom had announced that I was being shipped off to my dad's for the summer. I could see right through her excuses; she wasn't sending me away for my good, she was sending me away, so she didn't have to worry about me. So I wasn't a drain on her finances anymore, whenever my mom left the country or town for business she had to hire a maid and nanny to care for me.

Paddling to shore, I rolled my eyes when I spotted my mom dressed in a bright yellow dress standing on the beach; her heels were strapped to her feet which were entirely typical of her. She'd regret it later when she got on to the firmer ground and realised she had grains of sand stuck between her foot and shoe.

"Leah! Come on, you're flying out today, and you still need to wash and eat!" The thought of my mom becoming motherly suddenly was disturbing. I mean, she had her moments where she asked if I had enough money or gas in my car, but she never worried about trivial things like breakfast and dressing appropriately.

"I bet you're just counting down the minutes," I mumbled to myself as I walked past my mom and up towards our house. Yeah, that was why I was so bad at school. Living in Newport Beach meant I had a lot more opportunity close by to surf good waves on a daily basis. The school I went to was set high on cliffs that overlooked the ocean; it was no wonder I failed as many classes as I did...the ocean was forever a distraction.

"That isn't fair Leah! I'm doing this for your good!" I heard my mother say defensively behind me as we walked up to the house. I didn't say another word as I parked my board in its usual spot before going to the outdoor shower and cleaning the salt water and sand off.

Taking my time in the shower, I hoped my mom had gone on her merry way. Chances were though she would be driving me to the airport and kissing me farewell before going off to another business meeting or something. It would be just like her to do something like that, but when I climbed out of the shower and walked inside, I was surprised to see breakfast laid out on the table.

Our house was too big for just two people; the table reflected that. There were enough chairs around it to sit ten people but most nights it only sat me and Melissa, the babysitter. Occasionally my mom would hold dinner parties; truth be told I didn't even know she had that many friends to invite over. But apparently, my mom had a busier social life than I ever did, if some people calling the house was anything to go by.

"Get changed quickly; your bags are already in the car." Ignoring my mother I went up to my room, half of the top floor was my own to do with as I pleased. I had a bedroom, a small office, a toilet and bathroom and a lounge in my half of the top floor; my mom had something similar.

The office and lounge were old bedrooms; I didn't want to feel so alone in a huge house so asked for the bedrooms to be converted into something else. My mom had rolled her eyes at the request but hadn't argued; I already had counter arguments ready just in case she needed more convincing.

I changed quickly; my mother had left me a set of clothing out on my bed. As usual, it was something I would never wear, and as per usual I picked out what I wanted, after all, there were still a few items of clothing in my drawers.

When I came down to eat breakfast, I could see my mother rolling her eyes at my choice of clothing, skinny jeans, high heels, a white off the shoulder t-shirt and sunglasses. I was sure it would be glaringly bright in Montana with all those open spaces and...grass. I shivered at the thought of a sea of green instead of blue, the idea of not being near the ocean was upsetting, and since the revelation that I was, moving to Montana, I had more or less dragged my bottom lip around with me.

The breakfast spread on the table was as expected, coffee, pancakes and fresh fruit. That was the usual fanfare when my mother and her chef were home, it was always freshly cooked meals and usually healthier than I was used to my nanny cooking.

"Did you not like what I had laid out for you?" My mother questioned me before I had even sat at the table. I stopped near my chair, looking at her before answering. The outfit was something I wouldn't wear, animal print wasn't my thing, and neither were fluorescent colours.

"I would have looked like a hooker if I had worn any of it, I'm not a hooker, and you haven't dressed me in ten years so don't start now." My mother looked genuinely surprised at my response as if she hadn't been expecting that image to pop into her head or for me to even reply to her. Often our time together was spent in complete silence; I couldn't help the fact that I gave my mom the cold shoulder more often than not. But that was what happened when I was left to my own devices three hundred days out of the year.

"You would have? But I thought it was cute. Do you have your cards and cash on hand? Your father said Trisha would be coming out to collect you as he has to work, don't trust that woman. More than likely she has trained all four children to hate you," I nodded, that I had been thinking of since the announcement was made of my move. I had never met Trisha or her children.

Like I mentioned earlier, my dad had barely been a fixture in my life since divorcing my mom. As far as I looked at it, he'd moved on with another family and considered Trisha's eldest daughter better than me. We were the same age; she rode horses better then she walked apparently I rode boards, but no one would know that as the only running water near my father's ranch was what came out of the tap.

"I've got it mom, don't mix with her kids. Not that I want to, I hate children." I heard myself saying as I served myself breakfast and poured coffee. Caffeine wasn't abundant in my diet, but it was there, and I felt a little more drained than usual, the coffee would at least keep me alert until I sat on the plane.

"Well then, eat up. You've got a big day ahead of you." Like always I didn't add what I wanted to say, I knew my mother had groomed me to hate Trish's kids from the get go. Admittedly I did have some amount of dislike for Valerie; I only learned her name the other night when my dad had called to make arrangements.

To his credit he had sounded excited that I was being shipped out to stay with him, sighing I began eating and dreading my move to Montana.