Laguna Cove Read Free Page A

She had to stay focused on the important things, like maintaining her perfect 4.0 GPA, her position as Surf Club president, and taking first at the upcoming San Onofre Surf Fest competition so she could get noticed by the sponsors she’d been dreaming of for too many years to count.
    With her five-foot-nine, slim, toned frame and long blond hair pulled back into its usual braid or ponytail, exposing her perfect face, there was something so graceful and delicate about her, people often assumed she was a model or ballerina—that is, until they saw her surf. In the ocean, she was a strong and fearless competitor who could carve up the face of a wave with both elegance and aggression.
    Guys also came easy to Ellie, always drawn first by her looks, then later by her brains and talent. She had a handful of good guy friends she could always count on as a last-minute prom date or emergency flat-tire fixer. But she never allowed any of these friendships to go further than a quick peck on the cheek or, even more likely, a brief hug. That she could have pretty much any guy she wanted was merely a fact that didn’t mean much to her. Especially since she only wanted one.
    But even Chris, awesome as he was, could not get in the way of her dreams. She had a lot to live up to, and it was like her dad always said: “Go after your goals with absolute tunnel vision!” “Allow nothing to get in your way!” “You have to name it before you can claim it!”
    Okay, the last may have been Dr. Phil. But whatever. The bottom line was she couldn’t allow herself to get distracted. No matter what.
    She scanned the empty beach, looking for her friends even though she knew they wouldn’t show; then, feeling the water beginning to rise and swell beneath her, she started paddling, jumping up on her board with the strength and assurance of someone more comfortable in the ocean than anywhere else. But as always, on her first wave of the day (especially when no one was watching), there were no fancy tricks, no special maneuvers to impress the judges. It was just Ellie, her board, and the ocean all blending in harmony for that one perfect moment. She allowed herself one soul surf a day, but she refused to admit it was always her favorite.
    After several decent waves, she checked the tide watch her dad had bought her for Christmas last year and realized she barely had time for one more before she had to head back home, change, and meet her trainer for her two-hour gym workout.
    Jumping up on her board, she sensed that this last wave would be the best of the day, as she expertly cranked it around, catching the lip and slicing through the cool, green curl. If this was the Surf Fest, those sponsors would be double-checking my name right about now, she thought.
    But just as she was going for a really big finish, she spotted another surfer paddling out. Sun-streaked hair, tanned skin, perfect body, and even though she couldn’t exactly see them from this distance, she knew the eyes were clear, like blue topaz. And just as she was thinking about those eyes, she lost focus, wiped out, and swallowed salt water right in front of him.
    “You okay?” Chris called, just before duck-diving under a wave.
    But by the time he resurfaced, she’d already untangled the seaweed from around her legs and retrieved her board, as though nothing had happened. Giving him a casual over-the-shoulder wave, she headed toward the cliff stairs, glad that her back was now to him so he couldn’t see that her face was bright red with humiliation, embarrassment, and anger at her own lack of focus.
    She opened the little gate that led to the limestone terrace and leaned her board against the low fence. Reaching back to unzip her wetsuit, she looked up and saw her father sitting on a lounge chair by the Jacuzzi, drinking an orange juice.
    Oh, great. How long has he been there? she wondered.
    “Hey, Dad,” she said, casually squeezing salt water from her braid and hoping he hadn’t