Free A Sea of Stars by Kate Maryon

dark, she drops her glitter wax on the sand and just sits there, staring and trembling, nibble-nibble-nibbling on her nails.
    â€œI can’t…” she whispers. “I…”
    â€œOh, come on!” I say, “Please?”
    â€œNever mind if you can’t swim, Cat,” says Mum. “You could paddle until you’re used to it. Or you could come for a wander and collect seashells and driftwood with me. It’s just as much fun as surfing. We can make something out of them when we get back home.”
    But Cat shakes her head again, as if she were shaking bad, bad pennies from her mind.
    â€œI’m happy here,” she says, drawing a perfect heart in the sand with her finger. “I prefer just watching.”
    Then Luca runs up with his surfboard under his arm.
    â€œHi,” he smiles. “Coming in?”
    I’m not sure what to do, if I should stay with Cat or go with Luca.
    â€œGo on in,” says Mum. “Get some practise for the competition.”
    She slides really close to Cat.
    â€œWe’ll watch you both from here.”
    I sprint to the water’s edge with Luca; away from Mum and Dad and Cat; unravelling myself like sticky wool from the weirdness of everything; loving the pounding sound of my feet on the sand.
    â€œBe careful,” shouts Mum. “Don’t go too far out!”
    I throw myself into the waves and paddle out as far as I can go. Cat’s words are sparkling on my lips. I do what I want. No one tells me. The surf breaks over my head and the waves drag under me, pulling me further and further out. And then I see my wave, swelling in the distance, coming closer and closer. When I catch it, I pop up on my board with my arms stretched wide like a bird.
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    On my tenth birthday, I thought that God or Buddha or Krishna or the Virgin Mary or someone truly holy must really exist. Because Nana and Popsarrived with a bright red wetsuit and a real, real surfboard and some glitter wax for me.
    I couldn’t believe my eyes! My lips were lost for words.
    I’d wanted a surfboard for ages, but Mum said there was no chance. Not ever. A bodyboard was one thing, but a real surfboard was stretching her patience just a little too far.
    â€œI don’t understand this obsession, Maya,” she snapped, picking up the wetsuit. She glared at Nana and Pops. “And I’m really not happy about this! Surfing is a dangerous sport – really dangerous! You should have called me before spending a fortune on all this stuff; you should have asked me first.”
    Pops’ eyes flamed.
    â€œIt’s her passion!” he said. “Maya comes alive out there in the sea, anyone can see that, and I’m not going to stand back and watch you squash it. We supported you in everything you wanted when you were a child, Jane, and we’ll support Maya too.”
    Dad said if I learned to do it properly then surely I’d be safe. He told Mum we couldn’t moveto Cornwall and then ban me from the sea – that really wouldn’t be fair. But Mum’s worry spread over her like a rash, making her palms sweat and her voice go all shaky and her nerves jangle with fear. Dad won in the end, though. Mum didn’t really have a choice, not with Nana and Pops and Dad on my side.
    Surf school was amazing, completely zabaloosh, and the first time I stood up and surfed right to the beach without wiping out was totally the best day of my life. The glassy waves sparkled like magic and my heart swelled huge with pride. My surf coach smiled and clapped like mad.
    â€œI’m totally stoked, Maya!” he said. “Girl, you rip!”
    Dad was watching from the beach. He clapped and cheered and smiled and waved so much it got kind of embarrassing. He stuck his hand up in the air and stomped up and down on the sand, whistling like he was doing some kind of mad ritual tribal dance. Everyone stared at him as if he was totally bonkers. But,