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S a t u r d a y, 23/3/19

Dear Diary,

For the rest of that afternoon, I dozed on and off, completely oblivious to anything else that was happening around me.

When, at around four o'clock, I did wake up with a startled jolt, it was to find Luna unpacking my clothes and arranging them in my cupboards. As I sat up and jerked my fingers through my tangled hair, I found it weird, very weird, that I wasn't the one unpacking, cleaning or cooking.

No wonder that other maid thought I was apart of the house's staff!

"Soo, Luna?" I questioned as I stuck my feet into my sneakers and whipped my hair up into a high ponytail. "Do you know of any surf shops around here?"

Luna turned around to eye me dubiously. "You surf?"

I nodded. "Back in Sydney."

Luna shrugged. "I-I guess. There's one along the northern beach a mile or so from here. I can get Tom to drop you off..."

"No!" I quickly cut in. "I'll walk. I need some fresh air."

Luna hesitated before responding, "Make sure you're back in time for dinner, though, okay? Your father has a surprise to show you."

I paused. "A surprise? What could be bigger than this?" I motioned to my room.

Luna chuckled. "Trust me. It's bigger than this."

"Alright ... I gotta go, byeee!" I called out over my shoulder as I flounced out of the room and trundled down the stairs.

Slipping out of the front door, I started down the drive, admiring the colourful arrays of flowers and the rainbow sprinkles of the water fountains on the way.

In a matter of moments, I had reached the shore-line that was literally right at my father's back door-step. As I removed my shoes and dug my toes into the soft, white sand I heaved a deep sigh of contentment.

This felt more like home.

Following the directions Luna had given me, I splashed through the deep blue waves until I had caught sight of a large billboard reading, S w e e t S u r f e r' s P a r a d i s e.

Walking up to the front door that was plastered with a variety of posters and papers, I brushed the sand from my legs before entering.

Gazing around in awe, I ran my fingers along the rows of surfboards, each it's own individual colour, shape and size. A rack of wet-suits lined one of the far walls and a few shelves of differing bits and pieces lined another.

As I circled my way around the shop, my eyes eagerly drinking up everything in my path, I heard a slight shuffling sound from behind me.

Surprised, I whirled around to look right into the deep, hazel eyes of a tall, black-haired boy!

"Hello," he raised his eyebrows at me. "What are you doing here?"

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