The Booty

It’s a pretty nice day in Venice Beach when Drew Chadwick is skateboarding along the sidewalk, his two bandmates Wes and Keaton in tow. The sun’s rays are beating down on them, turning Drew’s creamy coloured skin into a nice golden tan and turning the tips of his hair a little blonder than usual. His pearly whites glow against his darkened skin, as he weaves his way through shirtless guys and old ladies just trying to find their way.

“C’mon bro!” Wes calls to Drew. “You’re too slow, man!”

Drew can hear Keaton’s laugh in the distance when Drew responds to Wes by giving him the finger.

He continues along his path, narrowly dodging a group of teenaged girls who squeal and point at him. He only grins that usual shit-eating grin that girls seem to adore about him and continue his path, feeling as free as someone can be at twenty-one.

Oh wait, there’s a group of girls running after him now. He’s not feeling so free anymore.

Taking a deep breath, he prays that Wes and Keaton are able to not get harassed, because he’s not really in the mood to deal with the fan girls right now. Nothing against the fans – he loves them dearly because without them he and the boys wouldn’t be anywhere, but he just wants to enjoy a beautiful day with his best friends and if he’s lucky, a gnarly surf sesh later.

Drew’s so focused on his thoughts that he almost misses a denim shorts booty clad girl that catches his eye. It’s not a big booty by any means, but it’s small and tight and Drew doesn’t want to sound weird here, but he thinks that booty would feel good against him. Great, even.

“What are you looking at?” Hearing the denim booty gal speak, Drew doesn’t look where he’s going and manages to trip over his board in an attempt to stop smoothly in front of the girl. Good one, Drew!

“Sorry,” he apologises, checking wildly around him to see if there’s any fans around. There’s not, thankfully. He doesn’t need this cutie’s photo in the media. A cutie whose name he doesn’t even know. “Uh. Sorry.”

Booty clad girl smiles. Drew’s surprised that the booty of the girl is someone that looks younger than he is. She’s quite petite, with a small frame but cerulean coloured eyes that match the ocean. Drew likes the ocean. It’s vast and deep and reminds Drew that there’s an endless amount of possibilities in the world. Her soft, strawberry blonde hair hangs messily around her face, there’s a strand that Drew would like to tuck behind her hair. But, she looks kind of young. Possibly too young. Shit.

“You said that already,” she points out. She makes him nervous, and he’s not sure why. He doesn’t go for girls that look like her. Although he doesn’t really have a preference. He likes girls that are sweet and earthy and really, if he has that natural connection with them and they totally vibe, he’ll like her. Drew doesn’t know if he has a natural connection with booty girl, though. He just likes her butt. He can’t help it. Drew loves the booty. “You gonna tell me why you were staring at me?”

She’s very assertive. Drew wouldn’t have guessed that judging by her size. As though she knows what’s going through his mind, she speaks again. “I may be small, but I mean big business.”

Drew chuckles, and he’s surprised to see that the girl is blushing too. She’s feisty. He likes that. Wait. How old is she again?

He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. Drew’s not an awkward person. He lets things roll, takes them in his stride – he’s that kind of guy. What is wrong with him? Drew Chadwick is a man of many things, and having a strong game is one of them. “You have a very nice behind. It caught my eye.” He smiles bashfully at her, hoping that he doesn’t look or sound like a creep.

She narrows his eyes. Shit.

“I’m not sure whether to be flattered or creeped out,” she points out. “Especially since I look younger than I am and for all you know, I could be sixteen.”

Sixteen? Drew’s eyes feel like they’re about to pop out of his head. Shit. Shit. Shit. He’s twenty-one, and she could be…sixteen?

“I’m twenty,” she reassures him, and he breathes out a long breath he hadn’t realised he was holding in. “And uh, thanks for appreciating my booty. You can skate along now.”

Drew can’t help but smile at her again. She’s the exact opposite of what he thought and he likes it. He likes her. He’s not too sure why, exactly, but he likes her and he’s determined to get her number.

Or at least, a name.

“I’m Drew,” he introduces himself, sticking his hand out politely to her. Is hand shaking even a thing anymore? Perhaps not to potential suitors.

“Is this the part where you ask for my number?” She asks coyly, but takes his hand regardless. She’s got small, soft hands.

Assertive and forward. Drew may be in love.

“Only if you’ll give it to me,” he answers. “And if not, that’s totally cool. I’ll be back here tomorrow, though.”

“You’ll turn up to Venice Beach in the hopes of seeing me again?” she asks. Finally, Drew notices with some satisfaction. She’s as flustered as I am. “Some could call that too keen.”

“Or interested in seeing the booty again,” Drew shrugs. “You, I mean. The booty is just part of the very delightful package.”

She laughs. “You’re something, Drew.” He hands her his phone and they exchange numbers. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, booty girl.” Drew places his skateboard on the ground, and just as he is about to leave, he hears Wes yelling at him from a mile away.

“Dude! Hurry your ass down to the beach, yo!”

“Duty calls,” he tells her. “I’ll see you tomorrow, same time, same place. Maybe then I’ll get your name?”

She smiles widely, similar to one he gave her earlier. “Maybe you will.”

“Looking forward to it.”

“I’m sure you are.”

“I am.”

“Can’t wait, then.”

“I’m Daria.”

Drew chuckles. “Can’t wait ‘til tomorrow, Daria.”