Title: Hau'oli Lanui
Disclaimer: The characters of "Roswell" belong to Jason Katims, Melinda Metz, WB, and UPN. They are not mine and no infringement is intended.
Summary: Max Evans and Liz Parker were teenage sweethearts, but they haven't seen each other in 6 years… what happens when they meet unexpectedly at Christmas?
Author's Note: The title, Hau'oli Lanui is Hawaiian for Happy Holidays… you'll probably see why it's relevant in just a minute…
It was the summer of 1998…the best summer of my life.
It was the summer of sun, sea, sand… and falling in love with the boy of my dreams.
I was fifteen years old and just discovering the wonders of growing up… becoming independent, liking boys and finally escaping the watchful eyes of my parents. It started out just like any other summer: school let out on the Hawaiian island of Maui – my home – in May and the next few weeks were spent working a part-time job in the local surf shop on the beach and hanging out with my friends – gossiping about hair and make-up and boys.
But one morning in early July, everything changed.
I was working my usual shift in the surf shop, making sure that all the shelves were stocked ready for the rush of tourists and regular surfers that would inevitably come in during the day, when I saw him.
The most gorgeous boy I've ever laid eyes on in my life.
It was love at first sight.
He was walking across the golden sand, surfboard casually tucked under one arm, black wetsuit unzipped, the upper section resting around his waist and exposing a flawless expanse of tanned skin, shoulder-length, sun-streaked hair framing the most breathtakingly gorgeous face I had ever seen, and my breath caught in my throat as his penetrating dark eyes met mine briefly through the shop window. Self-conscious, I quickly turned away, but then just a few seconds later, the bell above the shop door rang out and there he was, standing right in front of me, his lips turned up into a smile that turned my knees to jelly.
I just gawped at him open-mouthed for several seconds before I caught myself, but before I could even muster up the courage to say hello, he'd stepped forward and asked if I wanted to go surfing with him later on. It took several seconds of incoherent mumbling on my part before I finally gasped out a 'yes' and he grinned in response, telling me to meet him on the beach in my lunch hour.
He was from California and his name was Max Evans; he was sixteen years old and he was my first love – you know, that one amazing holiday romance that most girls can only dream about. For two weeks we spent every possible moment together; in the mornings we ate breakfast together in one of the beachside cafés, during my lunch hours we went surfing and in the evening we did everything from going to dinner and the movies, to sunset walks along the beach. We shared our first kiss right in the middle of the ocean, the sun beating down on us as he pulled me upright in the water when I lost my footing on the surfboard. He tangled his fingers in my long, wet hair and sealed our lips together in the most breathtaking kiss I'd ever experienced and after that, I couldn't get enough.
When I was with him, I forgot everything else; all I could see was him… that beautiful face, those deep, warm eyes, the gorgeous soft waves of his long hair. I was head over heels for him and he told me he felt the same way. But all too soon, his family vacation was over and he had to fly home to California. We promised that we would keep in touch, that we would meet up again soon, but although the letters and the phone call started off frequent, soon they began to dwindle, eventually stopping just before Christmas that year.
At first I was angry with him for forgetting about me, for not meaning enough to him to keep writing to me, but eventually – as I grew up and learned the hardships of the real world – I realised that our summer romance had been too good to be true. It had just been a childhood fantasy – something out of a cheesy romance novel; real life wasn't like that at all.
No, real life was full of disappointments and missed opportunities… and chances were I would never see or hear from Max Evans again in my life.