Angry guitar riffs wailed from my speakers as I sped through town. There was nothing I hated more than to be left looking like a slack-jawed idiot without a snappy comeback. In the few minutes it had taken me to cross town, I'd thought of no less than five perfectly witty responses that my brain had neglected to provide before Ethan had disappeared through the tinted sliding doors of the condo building. To attempt to alleviate my frustration I'd switched to angriest of rock stations and subconsciously started gnashing my teeth together. By the time I'd pulled in at home, I'd worked my temper down to a simmer, but I knew I needed some sort of outlet or the rest of my night would be ruined.

"I'm home!" I called to the huge house, dumping my keys in the dish by the door. There were no other cars around so my dad was probably still at work and my mom was probably still at some charity meeting or ladies lunch.

My phone buzzed while I was jogging up the stairs to my room. Deciding that whatever gossip Katie or whoever had to share could wait until I'd worked off my frustrations, I dug out some jogging clothes and laced up my shoes. Scraping my blowdried hair into a haphazard ponytail, I grabbed my iPod and headed out the door.

Driving, it's like 3 minutes to the beach. Jogging takes about 10, so it's the perfect warmup route. Inhaling the salty air, I propped my leg up on a bench, savoring the pull of my muscles as I stretched them out. Without really meaning so, my eyes scanned the wavy water and sure enough they settled upon a lone surfer among the myriads of kids that splashed in the shallows. Frowning a bit as I stretched my other hamstring, I wondered why he'd come so early. Normally he waited until about an hour before sunset, when all the kiddies and their platinum blonde, rail thin, half-silicone mothers were at home, handing them off to various nannies and au pairs.

Deciding I still hadn't burned off enough of my frustration, I set off in the opposite direction despite my mind's desire to strip off the Nikes and camp out on the sand until Tyler was done surfing for the day. I turned my iPod up and forced myself to concentrate on my pacing until my mind finally let go of the last few traces of anger. The salty air felt wonderful in my lungs and my muscles burned in a perfectly satisfying kind of way as I reached the end of the municipal beach and continued on past the yacht club. I studiously ignored the two highrises just beyond the cabana-style clubhouse, choosing instead to turn around and make my way through the center of town.

About half an hour later, after I'd pounded my way though most of downtown and its nearest residential streets, my feet carried back towards the beach instead of past the high school on the most direct route home. I lied to myself, saying it was all for the sake of an extra half mile of exercise, when I knew it was really just to check if Tyler was still there. Slowing to a quick walk, I scanned the now nearly vacant beach, swinging my arms to restore the circulation to my fingers as my heart rate came back down to normal. Amidst the throngs of tired, crabby kids being packed into luxury SUVs, there was not a surfer to be seen.

"Looking for me, princess?"

The voice carried over from behind a huge silver SUV that backed out to reveal a black Jetta with a surfboard rack on the roof. My heartbeat spiked as Tyler's grin lit up his tanned face, his wetsuit rolled halfway down his torso as he strapped the surfboard to his roof. He was still glistening with salt water and I had to keep from running my eyes over him as I approached.

"Were you hoping I was?" I teased, leaning against his car as he tied the last strap.

"Oh you know it," Tyler replied with a smile, hopping down and opening the back door, "You look really cute when you run, did you know that?" he said. I blushed, well aware that whenever I run, I look nowhere near as good as the attractively sweaty girls in Gatorade commercials.

"You don't look too shabby yourself, Surfer King," I replied as Tyler pulled out a towel to dry his hair, "Ready for Friday?"

"How about you ask me again on Thursday, hopefully by then I'll be worthy of such a regal title," he chuckled, stowing his towel and fixing me with his expressive hazel eyes, "You want a lift home?"

Suddenly I was acutely aware of my legs filled with lactic acid. Or maybe that was just my brain looking for excuses again.

"Nah, I should probably jog back," I said, staring down at my shoes in an attempt to resist whatever spell his salty surfer look was weaving over me.

"Sit your sweaty butt in that seat Madison Carlisle," Tyler commanded, wrapping a towel around his waist as he peeled off his wetsuit and pulled on a pair of swim trunks.

"No, I really sh-" I began, my eyes inexcusably drawn back by his fully exposed torso.

"Get in or you go swimming!" he said, cocking an eyebrow as he hesitated in pulling his shirt on.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow," I said with a grin as I made to jog away. With a shout, Tyler started to run after me and I took off across the sand laughing. He caught up before long and swung me around until we both ended up on our butts in the sand.

"Ditch the shoes and the iPod," Tyler said, tugging on my headphones to fish it out of my hidden pants pocket.

"Yeah right, so you can have free license to toss me in the ocean? I don't think so!" I laughed, trying to fight him off.

"Fine, have it your way," he said, reaching down and tugging off my left shoe before I could stop him. I squealed, trying to jump to my feet, but he caught my right one and peeled that shoe off too. Still holding my foot so I was forced to balance on just one, he held his hand out.

"iPod, now," he said, a devilish grin on his face, "Because I won't be buying you a new one,"

I fished it from my pocket and before I could even hand it over, he'd snatched it up, dumped it in a shoe, and thrown me over his shoulder. I screamed, squirming and kicking as the waves lapped against his swim trunks.

"The more you protest, the wetter you'll get!" he warned, making as if to toss me over his shoulder. I scrambled up his back, trying to hang on to his neck so he'd be forced to go down if he tried to dunk me.

"Tyler, stop!" I shrieked, as he reached up and tried to peel me off to throw me.

"You leave me no choice," he sighed, resigned. Before I could protest, he dove into the water, dragging me down with him. We both surfaced at the same time and I splashed him before lunging at him to tackle him back underwater. He laughed, catching me but still going under. When we both surfaced again, the shrill wail of a lifeguard's whistle rang out across the beach.

"NO HORSEPLAY!" the overly buff evening shift guy shouted through the cone. Tyler laughed and waved. I giggled, mortified. The entire beach was now staring at me in my wet jogging attire. Thankfully I'd gone for the black tank top today instead of the white one.

"C'mon, let's get out of here," Tyler said, motioning for me to jump on his back. Deciding there was no harm in accepting a ride out of the rather unfortunate yet amusing situation he'd gotten me into, I hopped on.

*******************

"I can't believe you did that," I muttered as he pulled out of the beach parking lot. I was wrapped in one of his towels, my blonde hair already starting to curl at the ends. It was only a matter of time before it frizzed up, saltwater or not. My shoes and iPod were sitting uselessly by my feet, my socks and shorts soaked through.

"I'll give you credit for putting up one heck of a fight," Tyler chuckled, "But next time just remember that resistance is futile!"

"That's a big old assumption that there'll be a next time!" I said, sticking my tongue out at him.

"Is that a challenge?" Tyler asked, peering sidelong at me. I forced my face into a stony stare.

"You bet it is," I replied, staring him down and trying not to grin.

"Challenge accepted, but next time don't expect me to give you my towel. No more Mr Nice Guy!" he said, shaking his head as we approached the stop sign at my turn.

"You wanna go get some coffee before I take you home?" Tyler asked. I laughed.

"Sure, I'll bet the Starbucks people will enjoy have a soaking wet girl sit on their pretty, cushy armchairs," I smiled, my voice dripping with sarcasm. Tyler laughed.

"Right. I'll get you home then," he said, turning the wheels in the opposite direction. As we drove away, I threw a passing glance towards the condos, wishing I could thumb my nose at them.

"You wanna come in?" I offered as he pulled up my driveway, "I'll go dry off and we can get a snack or something,"

"Sounds good," he said, reaching for a sports bag in the back seat, "I'll change too,"

Walking into the house, Tyler made his way to the nearest of the ground floor bathrooms while I went to investigate the noise coming from the living room. Sure enough, Brandon and Brett were watching a movie.

"Hey Maddie...whoa, what happened?" Brandon asked as they noticed me walk into the kitchen.

"Tyler threw me in the ocean," I replied as if that kind of thing happened every day, "Whatcha watching?"

"This Is The End!" they chimed in unison. I rolled my eyes and made a disgusted noise.

"Again?" I snorted.

"HELL YEAH!" they both replied. Something blew up on screen and caught their attention again. Rolling my eyes, I bounced up the back staircase and headed for my room.

Tossing the soaked clothes into a heap in the en-suite bathroom, I pulled on a t-shirt and pair of shorts. Tying my unmanageable hair back into a messy bun, I splashed some water on my face to get rid of the salty dryness. Because one can never be without makeup in front of their crush, I swept on some mascara and lip gloss before making my way downstairs again.

Much to my dismay, Tyler had taken a seat next to the boys and was watching the movie as avidly as my idiot brother and his equally dumb friend.

"Well I'm going downstairs," I announced, walking to the fridge and pulling out an orange.

No reply.

Lifting an eyebrow, I reached into the fridge again and tossed a clementine at the back of Tyler's head. To my surprise I actually hit him square in the shoulder. He barely registered the citrus aggression, instead snatching up the orange and starting to peel it to eat it.

"I'm going downstairs," I repeated, "You can stay and watch the stupid movie if you want, but there's no way I'm watching it again,"

"Fine, fine," Tyler said, turning around to look at me, "Just let me watch the part when-" and he broke off as Brett and Brandon erupted in a fit of laughter. I shook my head and headed for the basement.

Flicking on the lights, I vaulted onto the cushy leather couch and flicked on the massive TV. When I turned on the DVD player, the Pretty Little Liars disc I'd been watching came on. Leaning back into the couch and starting to peel my orange, I didn't hear as Tyler came down. Instead, I let out a little scream as he vaulted the couch and landed beside me.

"Oh no way!" he shouted, seizing the remote and switching discs. Something James Bond. Okay, I've got nothing against the debonairely hot Daniel Craig, but I really wish my brother could buy just one movie, any movie, that didn't involve a half naked girl fawning over a guy with a gun.

"Nice," Tyler said, "You wanna watch this?"

"No ogling Bond girls!" I said, tossing a bit of orange peel at him.

"Dammit," he said, and hit the "Switch Disc" button again. Jurassic Park, the original. For some reason, that movie still scared the bejesus out of me. I don't know why, but every time that goat's leg hits the car with the two kids in it, my whole body seizes up in fear.

"Hmm, I think we've found it," he said, putting the remote on the table and jumping up to switch off the lights.

"Come on, you know I hate scary movies!" I whined, as he flopped back down next to me.

"Oh shut up," he said, muffling my protests by wrapping an arm around me so I could lie on his shoulder. The smell of the beach still clung to his skin and I desperately hoped he couldn't hear my heart hammering in my ears as loudly as I could. Suddenly watching an old movie about dinosaurs didn't seem like all that terrible a way to spend an evening.