I wake up on the morning of New Year's Eve, in the double bed, and immediately wish that I could go back to sleep. I can hear Charlie brewing coffee. Which smells incredible. She came back to the room with it last night after finding it at a small local store in the township. It had great reviews apparently.

The coffee, the sun and the smell of nature outside of my window which is cracked a smidge, are just a few of the reasons that I'm throwing back the sheet and climbing out of bed. Charlie's voice is the reason that I'm considering jumping out of the window and never coming back.

"It's great coffee babe," she chirps. It's her voice reserved just for Dyl. The one that she uses to let him believe that she's a human being and not a demon in disguise. "You should inquire about sourcing it for The Hot Plate. I've never tasted coffee like this before."

I drag my feet on the carpet and stand in front of a circular mirror. There's black goop in the corner of my eyes and my hair has moulded into something that resembles electrocution. My tank top has twisted half way around my body and left a rogue boob hanging out. I spend a minute adjusting myself while Charlie carries on squawking as if no one else might be sleeping.

"I'd quite like to buy a few tins of this to take home. Do you think we can do that? Or does it count as food?"

"Uh," I can imagine the shrug in Dylan's shoulders. "I think coffee is fine. I'm not sure. We'll have to ask."

"You should call the airport for me later. So how about lunch at eleven and then we'll spend time at the beach from twelve thirty until two. And then we'll come back here and get perhaps an hour of sleep in? I think an hour should be fine. After that we'll get dressed and organised to leave at half past four. Dinner at five. We'll head to Hot Water Beach at sev—"

"Woah babe, hang on," Dyl puts a halt to Charlie's militant rambling. Thank God. "That sounds like a good schedule and all but we should go over it with Bea. She might have some ideas about what to do today. We should at least include her."

"No babe," she chuckles. "You misunderstood. I want the two of us to spend the day together. We can meet up with her at Hot Water Beach later."

"Suits me," I slip out of the bedroom and smile, now more presentable than I'd been a minute ago. Dylan stands beside the small kitchen table with his lips parted, as if he'd been about to object. But for once Charlie and I are on the same page. "I'd prefer more than two allocated hours at the beach today. So go ahead and do whatever. I'll find you at Hot Water Beach later."

Charlie's stare narrows for a moment but it soon turns into a triumphant smile. "See," she tells Dyl, who I don't want to look at because he's shirtless and his flannel PJ pants are low on his hips. Instead, I focus on pouring a coffee, taking advantage of the short but sweet moment that Charlie isn't shooting me daggers and radiating threatening vibes towards me.

"Bea, are you sure?" He presses.

"Yeah. I think I might take my camera with me."

It works, of course. I knew it would. Dylan has always put his all into supporting my interests. He saw how much I loved photography. He was the subject of so many of my pictures. Ones that I've got buried in boxes at home. He's spent hours with me, editing and developing photos. He was the one who printed and hand delivered applications to different photography work shops and classes that were held by award winning artists.

He knows what it means, so I'm not surprised when he drops the subject of our day schedule and claps his hands together. "That sounds great. This is the perfect place to get some beautiful shots."

"Is she any good?" Charlie fixes the strap on her sheer maxi dress. All I can see underneath it is a powder pink bikini and a flawless figure.

"Yeah she's incredible with photography," Dyl answers.

"We should ask if she'll take some photos of us. One's that we can display at the wedding. Some sunset at the beach photos. Ya know? Does she charge much?"

"She is affordable considering she isn't even a qualified photographer," I tell her and wonder if she had genuinely forgotten that I'm in the room. Of course she hadn't.

"Well then," Charlie puts her full red lips on the rim of her coffee cup and raises a brow. "Since you were eavesdropping, you know what time we'll be at the beach. Meet us there?"

Caffeine sliding down my throat, sated me for a moment. Just a moment. She couldn't even use a please. "I thought I was the best man," I lean a hip on the counter and shrug. "Not the photographer."

"Bea," Dylan looks as though he's about to step in and throw his arm around me. Like he does when he can tell that I'm on edge. But he doesn't and I wonder if he can sense that something has shifted and I don't want that right now. "You don't have to take photos."

"Well hang on," Charlie pipes up. "We haven't found an official wedding photographer. That's perfect. Bea why don't you shoot the wedding?"

I'd rather shoot the bride. "What?"

"Yeah," Dylan looks at Charlie like he wishes she'd shut up. "Bea is the best man. She can't do both."

"She might enjoy taking the photos instead. And babe, if she's as good as you say, she'd be perfect. We have to have the best."

He's missing what I've clicked on to. Charlie doesn't want me to be the best man. Instead of resorting to her usual foot stomping and demands, she's finding a more subtle way to push me out of the wedding party. Honestly. The nerve. Setting me up to be hired help is low even for her. Clever though, I have to admit.

"I have to go," I turn on my heel and head back to the bedroom so that I can get into a bikini and some flip flops. The beach is calling me and I can literally feel my mental state draining the longer that I stand here and waste breath on this conversation. I drop my coffee cup into the sink and watch Charlie frown at the waste. "That coffee tastes like shit."

The beach is even busier than it was yesterday. I manage to find a spot that gives me a decent personal bubble, lay my towel and strip off down to my bikini. Despite the fact that there are people everywhere, it's peaceful. The sound isn't invasive but the sun is. It's hot and piercing so I lather up with sunscreen and sigh when I realise that I have no one to do my back.

Dylan would have if he was here. But he won't be until twelve or whatever time slot Charlie had allocated to tanning. I have no issue with a plan. Plans are great. But she makes it sound so strict and boring that it sucks the fun out of vacationing.

When it was just Dyl and I, he was the one that made plans. He told me where to be and when to be there and I would show up, sometimes late, but I'd be there because that was our dynamic. He made the plans. He did the organising. It worked best for us because I had trouble remembering or keeping track of plans and schedules. Perhaps it was laziness. An inability to care. My lack of commitment. Who knows?

Now Charlie made all of Dylan's plans. He still called me and told me to come and see him or told me that he was coming to see me. Our lunch dates went without question. But things were still different and I had a feeling that once he was married, she'd dig her heel in even further and I'd see even less of him than I do now.

I lay back in the towel, shades on and stare at the blue cloudless sky. It's so vast and clear. There are tree tops rather than building peaks and the sound of waves instead of cabs. It's beautiful. I pick up my brand new camera from where it's perched on the edge of my towel, aim it at the sky and snap.

That's it. The first photo that I've taken in ten years. Not including iPhone snaps. It's the first real photo. I sit up and press the replay button so that I can see how it turned out. It's blue. Bright blue and beautiful with a beam of sunlight shooting across the corner and in the other corner is the edge of a green tree. It's simple but aesthetic and I smile, that familiar sense of satisfaction seeping in after being absent for so long.

So I keep it up. I wander the beach taking photo after photo of the water. Shells. Coves. Sand. Not people though. Not without permission. I consider asking a couple of girls bathing on their stomachs if they wouldn't mind me taking a few shots. But I don't. I stick to nature for now. I realise that I haven't felt this relaxed in a long time. So much like myself. To the point where I hadn't even realised that I'd lost her.

It helps that the surroundings are so breathtaking. Mom would love it here. She loved the beach. She used to tell me that she wanted to live in a beach house. One that had enormous clear windows so that she could watch the water, see me building sand castles and watch the sunset over the horizon.

Whenever we travelled to California in the summer, she'd spend the entire six weeks with her feet buried in the sand, turning a sun kissed tan, glowing and shimmering. That's how I remember her. Beautiful and carefree with an enormous sun hat on, me sat between her legs while I filled a bucket with sand and tipped it out again. We stopped going to the beach when I got to high school and dad forced me into summer internships.

Dad hated the beach. He'd always spend his six weeks inside on a laptop. Mom tried so hard to get him outside. Into the water. Even onto a boat. He had zero interest though and despite how well she hid it, even back then, I knew that it hurt her. Now that I'm older, I wish that she'd left him and taken us to the beach to live. I love the city. I love New York. But I love mom more.

I managed to avoid Charlie and Dylan all day. I went back to the hotel when I knew that they would be at dinner so that I could drop my camera off and have a quick shower. I wore a simple pale blue sundress that sat on my thighs and draped low around my cleavage. There might be a chance to swim later, so I wore a bikini underneath. I figured that a simple sundress and beach wave hair was enough. The vibe here was relaxed. Casual.

Thanks to a few locals or perhaps tourists that knew the area well, I discovered that there was a bus that travelled from Whitianga to Hot Water Beach at eight.

Considering Charlie was far too superior for the bus, I figured that they would take the rental car. I'm sure that I could have hitched a ride but I wasn't done avoiding both of them. The bus was five dollars and came back to Whitianga again at three in the morning to prevent drinking and driving. Which, from the looks of things when I took a window seat at eight, was a good thing. Most of these people were drunk or on their way to being drunk already.

It made for an interesting half n hour until we pulled up at Hot Water beach at ten to nine. The three teenage girls that I'd buddied up with on the bus followed me, stumbling arm in arm. Mia, a tall Maori girl who had cultural tattoos right up the length of her leg caught up and threw her arm around me.

"You don't have a drink?"

I shrug. "I didn't bring one and I didn't know where to get them from."

"We have heaps," she pointed at Ava, a redhead with a fair but red complexion who was swinging a tote bag back and forth in one hand while her other hand held Isla's. Isla was the quietest one that I'd met so far. She seemed sort of bored but smiled when I looked back at her.

"I dunno," I turn back to Mia who seems to be using me to remain upright. "I'm not here with anyone right now. So I think I should stay sober. Ya know? Keep my wits about me."

"I can not get over your accent," Mia throws her head back and almost takes us both down. The sun is just starting to set. It's casting an orange hue across the sea. The beach is crowded, there are people digging huge holes in the sand so that water fills them. Like small pools.

"What are they doing?" I ask.

"Oh they're making little hot pools. Ya know, it's Hot Water Beach."

"That's so cute," I beam, almost wishing that I'd brought my camera. "Can we do that."

"Eh," she holds her hand up in front of us and wiggles her long nude finger nails. "These are brand new. I won't be digging. But I'll hang out while you do."

I sigh and look to the other two girls who have stopped beside us. Neither of them seem eager to dig either. I look around the beach littered with people listening to a live band that are set up on an elevated stage, digging themselves little hot pools and swimming near the shore. It's the perfect evening to be at the beach. It's still warm even though the sun is almost gone.

"There's Ry and Jacob," Ava points and the rest of us follow her line of vision until we see a group of four guys sitting in a hot pool of their own. There's a chiller beside them filled with ice and alcohol.

Mia drags me along behind her and when we reach the edge of the little hot pool, the four boys look up at us with slurred grins and burnt skin. The lot of them seem too young to be drinking. I know that the legal age is eighteen here. But even that might be pushing it. Whatever though. As Allie would say, that's none of my business.

"Whatup," one of them nods his head at Mia. "Where's Sammy? She said that she'd be here like two hours ago."

Mia stumbles over to the chiller and gets out a bright red bottle. The label reads vodka cruiser and she begins giggling. "Are you seriously drinking cruisers?" She cackles. "You're a bunch of thirteen year old girls."

"Ew," a small dude with his hair tied up scoffs. "Shut up, egg. You drink those too. They taste good. So what?"

"Don't be so sensitive, Jacob," Ava bites, now sitting in the sand with Isla, heads together over a cellphone. Ava peers at me for a moment. "My brother. Ignore him. He'll be like this all night because he's fragile about his height and makes up for it with extra douchebaggery."

"Where's Sammy?!" One of them asks again.

"She's not coming," Isla answers with a soft voice and her focus on her cell. "Her mom caught her leaving the house with all of that alcohol she was meant to bring."

"Fuck," Jacob snaps.

"Who is this?" Another guy watches me from the pool, his arms spread behind him. He has a nice face I suppose. Again, he's clearly on the younger side.

"I'm Bea," I wave.

"Are you over eighteen?"

"I'm twenty five."

The lot of them share an excited look and then the one with a nice face stands up, dripping wet, swim shorts clinging to. . . everything and extends his hand. "Ry. How's it going? Where you from?"

"Manhattan," I shake his wet hand and notice Mia watching with a less than enthused expression. If she's worried that I'm going to steal her man. She need not be. He's not old enough for me. "How old are you?"

"Nineteen," he answers and then starts pointing at the rest of the group and listing off their ages. None of them are over twenty. After he's done letting me know that none of them hold any potential whatsoever, he sidles up beside me and wiggles his brows. "I love an older woman."

"I'm going to politely let you know right now," I smile and be sure that I don't come across as a bitch. "There's zero chance of anything happening between us tonight. Or ever. But I'm flattered."

He juts out his bottom lip for a minute and then grins. "Alright. Copy that. Hang out with us? Wanna jump in the pool. It's warm."

"Of course she does," Mia pipes up, looking friendlier than she had a moment ago. "She wanted to dig her own before. Go ahead and get in. Have this."

She shoves the red vodka into my hand and sits down beside the other two girls who seem checked out of the situation entirely. So I strip down, hop in the shallow little hot pool and twist the bottle cap.

It's dark and I am wasted. I'm not sure how it happened but I can't even count how many of those red drinks I've had. The group that I'm with has grown since I got here. There's a lot of teens and a few people closer to my age. We've played a revealing game of never have I ever which I think accounts for how drunk I am. I'd done a lot so it would seem.

Mia, Isla and Ava are in a similar state. Mia is all over Ry who I'd done a not so subtle job of matchmaking. Isla and Ava wandered off a while ago but Mia barked orders at Jacob every half n hour to go and check on them. Which he did and reported back without fail. Music blared and my vision blurred and I couldn't remember the last time that I'd laughed so much.

I wasn't sure where my dress was. I'd hopped out of the hot pool when it got cold and it had disappeared. So I'd been dancing, drinking and building sand castles in my bikini. I wasn't alone. A lot of us were dressed for the beach.

I'm in the middle of a funnel, down on one knee with a funnel attached to a tube while someone pours alcohol into the top of it and I have to drink it without a break, when I hear a voice that I'd know anywhere. It cuts through the music, the shouting, the haze. Suddenly I'm lifted from under my arms, alcohol drizzles down my bare front and I can't even hold myself up. But Dylan turns me around and holds my shoulders, looking furious. And gorgeous. More so than usual.

"What the fuck?!" He snaps. "Where have you been?"

"Is there a problem here?" Ry stands beside me, arms folded and glares at Dyl. "Man, we all like this little American a lot. So I'd suggest treading carefully mate."

"This is my bestie," I laugh. "My literal world! Don't stress. He's just upset because I didn't call him. Ooh. I'm sorry. I didn't call, did I?"

"No," Dylan seethes and holds his hand out for Ry to shake. "I actually appreciate you looking out for her. Thanks, man."

"Well don't leave!" Ry throws his hands up. "It's almost midnight. Hang around. Do a funnel. Oi cunt," he screams at Jacob. "Bring me the funnel."

"Uh, yeah I'd love to," Dylan keeps his arm around my shoulder. I can't seem to manage one foot in front of the other without him. "But give us one minute."

"Where's Satan?" I ask Dyl as we step over a couple rolling around in the sand.

"What?" He seems confused for a minute and then he clicks. "Charlie left an hour ago. She didn't want to be here but I wouldn't leave without you. So she's pissed, naturally. Why didn't you answer your phone?"

"I honestly don't even know where it is," I giggle and step on his foot and fall into his chest which is firm and soft at the same time. "I'm sorry. I thought we'd just find each other. This place isn't that big."

He sighs and shrugs his shoulders. "It is what it is. Should we get going?"

"You can," I scoff. "I'm counting in the New Year and catching the bus back at three."

"Three? Shit. That's a while, Bea. I don't think Ch—"

"Dyl, I'm not going to force you to hang out here. I'm having a good time for once. Go and be with Charlie. That's where you belong."

It's dark and hard to see but he looks down at me with an expression that almost sobers me. Regret? Hurt? Longing?

Now that's wishful thinking.

The world seems to continue on around us while we stand there and pull faces at each other. Sad faces turn into silly ones and eventually I stick my tongue out at him and we laugh. I slap his cheek, playful and light and he pretends to frown but there's a smile in his gaze.

"Have a drink?" I tell him, his arms wound around me.

"I've had a few tonight."

"Did Charlie drive the rental?"

"Mhmm."

"How were you planning on leaving after you found me?"

"I dunno. A cab?"

"Impossible," I dismiss, leaning my head on his chest. We stand still in the sand, the party continuing around us. "I heard a few girls discussing how cabs and Uber's are impossible to get out here after midnight. People in the township have them booked to go clubbing."

"Guess we're here until three then."

I tip my head back and grin. "Drink with me."

"You've had enough, Bea."

That's when I hear the countdown. It's at eleven. Groups have become still. There are people crouched in the sand, waiting to light fireworks. I join in. Shouting numbers as loud as I can. My coordination is off though. So much so that shouting and standing at the same time is too much and I trip over nothing, landing in the sand with Dylan who I take down with me.

He grunts and keeps his weight off me but he joins in counting down while he laughs and then it hits one and he's hovering above me and I can see the fireworks behind his head and I grab his neck, pull him down and kiss his soft lips.

I'm kissing him.  I'm kissing Dylan and he hasn't pulled back. He's still, but we both are. There's cheering and clapping and the booming echo of fireworks and all of it makes me feel exhilaration like never before. But the feel of his mouth on mine makes me feel alive. Before I can break it, he moves his mouth. His lips part, his tongue dips in, slow and careful and I follow his lead, heart pounding, stomach twisting. My entire body is tingling and if I thought that I was in love with Dylan before, I know that I am now.