Finding Love in the Snow

“Amara let me in…” I hear the deep voice of my brother says banging on the door of my apartment.

“I’m coming; don’t get your panties in a twist big brother.” I yell to him, walking to the door and opening it.

“Are you ready, for your first surfing lesson?” He asks while grabbing an apple from my kitchen.

“Yea, we can leave in a sec.” I tell him, while slipping on my strapless white cover-up over my white and gold bikini, putting on my gold sandals, and grabbing my beach tote that was filled with a towel, my phone, my keys, and sunscreen. “Ok, I’m ready. You have the boards?” I ask him while he just nods looking at some sports magazine that came in the mail. “Reece?”

“Yea?” He asks finally looking at me, “Whoa, you’re not wearing that.” He exclaims.

“Why not? You told me to wear a bikini…”

“Yes, I did and if we were getting in the water, you would need a bikini top that gave you more support. One that wouldn’t flash everyone on the beach, but since I’m teaching you the basics today and I have to meet Brittany in 2 hours we’re saying safely on the sand. But that isn’t why you aren’t going to wear that, if you wear that.” He motions to my outfit, “I’m not gonna be able to teach you anything. I’m going to be too busy fighting guys off of you.”

“Reece, I am going to wear this and ‘bout fighting guys off of me, you shouldn’t worry.” I tell him.

“Mara, you don’t see yourself clearly. Believe me, I’m going to have to fight guys off, but I know you aren’t going change, so whatever. Let’s just go.” On our way to the beach, I look at my reflection in the overhead mirror in Reese’s car. He doesn’t know what he is talking about, I tell myself looking at myself. My dark brown hair in its natural loose waves, my olive-colored skin, and my hazel eyes all of which make me stick out like a sore thumb against all blue-eyed blondes with sun-kissed skin here in California. I’m not anything special. I may be pretty, but I’m not beautiful or stunning. I’m simply not the type guys fight over, I tell myself.

/////

We find the beach pretty empty for a sunny Saturday in Santa Barbara. Reece sets the boards down on an empty spot about 6 feet from the waters’ edge. I slip out of both my sandals and my dress before putting them in my bag, which I have put on the ground near the boards.

“Are you ready, ‘Mara?” Reece asks. I simply nod my head, “Ok, first….” He continues the next hour by showing me how to paddle and then stand up on the board. We’re in the middle of a break when my phone rings,

“Hello.” I say, answering quickly.

“Amara, its Mark Sanders.” My mentor says from the other line.

“Professor Sanders what can I do for you?”

“First of all, you can stop calling me Professor Sanders…I’m not your professor anymore. Second, I was wondering if we could meet.”

“Yea, I’m free anytime, but why do you want to meet?” I ask curiously.

“I have a proposition for you.” He says, “Are you free today by any chance?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Could we meet in about 20 minutes at the Starbucks on campus?” He asks. I quickly cover the phone and ask Reece,

“Would you mind if we cut today’s lesson short? My old professor is on the phone he wants me to meet him on campus.”

“Its fine, but you owe me one.” Reece replies.

“I don’t owe you anything, plus now you get to see Brittany an hour early.” I tell Reece before telling Professor Sanders that I’ll be there. Once I hang up, Reece is already picking the boards up and heading to the car.

“Come on, ‘Mara. I have to drop you off before I can go see Brittany.” Reece yells back at me.

“Chill out, big brother. Britt isn’t expecting you for another hour.” I tell him once I catch up with him. He ignores me and starts the car.

/////

“Do you want me to stick around so you have a ride?” Reece asks me outside the coffee shop. I pause in the middle of putting my gold leaf pendant on and look at him,

“What happened to ‘I need to go see Brittany’?” I ask.

“I just realized that you have no one to take you home.”

“Reece, my apartment is 3 blocks away. I can walk; I’ll be fine.” I tell him.

“Are you sure? Because I can wait…like you said I Brittany isn’t expecting me for a little while.”

“I’ll be fine.” Turning to face him more fully I say, “Look, I know you and dad really don’t like me walking home alone, but I’m not a kid anymore. I’m 21, Reece. You can’t baby anymore… I promise I’ll call you when I get back to my apartment.” I say opening the car door.

“Alright, be careful Amara.” Reece tells me.

“I always am….Oh, and Reece tell your girlfriend that you need to stop hogging her. I miss her.”

Reece chuckles and says, “Will do.” I slam the door and watch Reece speed off before walking into Starbucks. I easily spot my grey-haired former professor sitting in the corner. I slowly walk up to Professor Sanders anxious about what he wants to tell me. He stands up as soon as I near the table.

“Miss Foster.” He says.

“Professor.” I reply and he just sighs and says,

“I’m never gonna get you to stop calling me that, am I?”

“Nope.” Professor Sanders just laughs and pulls me into a hug.

“Now, I remember why you’re my favorite student.”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to have favorites.” I say with a smile and return the hug, “Now, what did you want to talk about?”

“Please, sit down.” He says pulling out a chair; I quickly sit down, curious as to what the proposition is. Professor Sanders sits downs and continues, “Amara, you have a very rare gift. Basically, any photograph you take is beautiful and interesting in one way or another. One thing you can capture that not many can is motion, which is why I think you would be an amazing sports photographer.” I look up shocked because I’ve never thought that I would be a sports photographer before I can say anything Professor Sanders holds up his hand and says, “I know what you’re going to say, but I really think you would be incredible.”

“Okkkkkkkaaaayyy.” I say wondering where he’s going with this.

“My god-son is a well known athlete who’s training at the moment…Anyway I told him about you and he’s willing to let you come and practice shooting sport photos, using him as the subject while he himself is training. If you shoot something they like, they might even use the photo.” He pauses, “Look Amara, you have incredible potential. But if once you finish practicing sports photography, you still can’t see yourself in sports you can try another form of photography until you find the one you love. It will still have been an experience that will help you further your skill, not to mention add to your portfolio. So what do you say?”

“Who’s your god-son?” Is all I can ask.

“Shaun White.” Professor Sanders states.

“Wait, Shaun White as in the Olympic gold-medalist Shaun White?”

“Yes.” He replies simply.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…” I keep muttering to myself before standing up.

“Amara, please just wait.”

“Look, Professor Sanders can I get back to you about this? I really need to think about it.” I tell him.

“Of course, give me call for more information.” He says.

“I will.” I pause, “Give me a week to think about this. I can’t promise you a yes, but I can promise that you’ll have an answer by the end of the week.” I say before I turn and walk away.