The Bad Bae Stole My Bra - Season 1 - Episode 95

6 years ago

The Bad Bae Stole My Bra - Season 1 - Episode 95

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“Now get your balance, and let go of the board,” I order, holding the board steady so that it doesn’t bob away. Her
eyes widen as she hears this instruction, but nevertheless she takes a deep breath and steadies herself- her hands flying out either side for balance.

“Now, slide one leg up.
Slowly…slowly Riley, slowly-“
She slides off the board with a splash and I roll my eyes.

Did she not listen to a word I said? How difficult is it to understand the word slowly? She emerges again with a sheepish expression on her face, her dark hair slick
against her back. Her cheeks are puffed red with effort.

Well, at least she’s trying, I guess. “Slowly,” She repeats,
clambering back onto the surfboard.

I watch as she steadies herself into a paddling position, sliding her legs
up into a kneel.

She wobbles a little bit here, but manages
to steady herself, luckily for me.

I hate being splashed with salt water.

Now the hard bit. Ever so slowly, she
brings up a foot and steadies herself on the board, and I raise my eyebrows.

She must have a pretty good
balance to be able to do that- usually it takes at least a week of practice before you can stand up on the board…

will she make it? She takes a deep breath and hesitantly moves the other foot, rolling onto her tiptoe before standing up.

For one glorious second, I see the delight on
her face, before she tumbles down into the water again.

When she emerges, she’s smiling like a lunatic. “I did it!”

“You did,” I grin, “Well done. It usually takes days for someone to stand up like you did then.”

“A few weeks and I’ll be as good as Chase,” She winks,

“He’d better watch his back.”

And I should probably watch mine.

*~*~*

“I can’t believe you guys forgot to bring sun cream,”

Riley rolls her eyes, scanning through the shelves of the shop.

“What kind of idiots don’t bring sun screen to the beach? Now Dylan is burnt to a crisp, and whose fault is it hmm?” She raises her eyebrows, sending me a pointed
look. I shrug helplessly. It’s not like I was told to bring the sun cream. I don’t burn: Dylan should have brought his
own freaking sun cream. She rolls her eyes at my expression, her lips quirking into the smallest of smiles.

“Hey Ryder. Should I get these?” She slides on a pair of kids Hello K---y sunglasses, stretching their frame to the breaking point. She’s going to break those if she’s not
careful, and I’m sure as hell not paying for them.

“Definitely,” I remark sarcastically, “You look like such a
big girl, Riley.”

“Aw aren’t you a cutie?” She teases, “You should try these ones on.” She throws me a pair of pink rimmed
heart shaped sunglasses, framed with diamantes.

“They’re totes your colour,” She winks.

“I’m not so sure about those ones. These are definitely very me though,” I wink back at her, playing along by
holding up a small pair of Mickey Mouse sunglasses.

Are these for babies or something? They’re tiny. “Oh wait;
you’re the one with the Mickey Mouse bra!”

“Don’t ya know it,” She pouts, her eyes hiding behind a giant pair of aviators. How on earth she makes those look
good, I’ll never know. I chuckle, glancing around the interior of the small shop.

It’s a typical surf shack- sand
scarring the floor and surfboards stacked up against the back walls. We’re looking for sun cream, because Dylan
got his pale-a-s self sunburnt, and somehow it’s my fault.

Don’t really see the logic there.

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“Here you go, this one’s the cheapest,” Riley shoves a bottle in my hand, “Go get it!”

“Why am I buying it?” I protest, stepping backwards from the direction of the counter.

“Because you’re a good friend and I don’t have any money with me blah blah blah,” Riley laughs, shoving
me, “Go!”

The things I do for friendship. I roll my eyes and place the bottle on the counter, pressing the little bell to get the attention of a worker. My eyes run around the shop
interior as I wait. It’s dimly lit and quite big, but cramped all the same.

Swimsuits line one wall, and surfboards line
another, with small aisles of wetsuits and sun cream and jewellery in-between.

A jewellery rack stands on the
corner of the counter, and my eyes run over it, lingering on one small bracelet in particular. It’s a hand painted
wooden bead bracelet, with a small shark tooth, an anchor and a surfboard charm hanging from it. Riley.

I glance to the side to check she’s not there, before grabbing one and sliding it onto the counter beside the sun cream bottle.

Don’t ask me why I’m buying it,
because frankly I don’t even know.

The worker turns up,
a shaggy haired blonde guy with a nose piercing.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” He smiles lazily, glancing down at the items on the counter, “That’ll be $8.35 please.” I hand him a ten dollar bill, watching as he packs away the
bracelet into a small paper bag.

A tiny bead of sweat runs
down the nape of my neck from the heat. What am I doing?

“Thanks. Keep the change,” I mutter, grabbing the bag and the sun cream bottle. I must be crazy: why am I
buying her a gift? It’s not like we’re dating, and it’s not her birthday or Christmas coming up soon. Alec Ryder, you
are officially turning into a sensitive p---y. What’s she going to think of me if I give her that? I step out of the shop with a sigh, turning to see Riley leaning against the wall, waiting for me. “Finally,” She grins, “Let’s go back to the guys. Dylan needs his sun cream.”

And just like that, I longed to give her the bracelet again.

What the hell is happening to me?

*~*~*

“Guys, we’re going back into the water,” Chase and Joe grin, clutching their surfboards. I sit up a little bit, squinting at them through the harsh light.

They’ve literally spent most of the day in the water, their skin is practically sun-baked and they’re going back in? Idiots. I roll my
eyes and continue to apply sun cream to my legs and arms.

Riley lies next to me with closed eyes behind her Ray Bans, and her ear buds in, Dylan lying similarly on the other side.

I’ve hardly known what to say to her since
I bought that bloody bracelet. The paper bag is still lying on the towel next to me, burning into my skin to remind me of its presence. I don’t know what I’m going to with
it: whether I’ll give it to her or not, so I’m just keeping it hidden for now.

“I’ll do your back if you like,” Riley offers, smiling a little at me.

Her top is back on now, much to our
disappointment, but her legs glow slightly bronzed in the sun.

She slides her Ray Bans up onto her forehead,
squinting in the light. I nod in reply to her offer, smirking.