The Dolphin Boy

Phillipa sat in the back seat of the car, sulking in silent frustration. Her mother had insisted that she should soend more time outside during her holidays - rather than sitting at home and chatting with friends all day and watching tv.

She had tried to explain that her life was practically the same as any other 15 year old girl's (overlooking the fact she had never had a boyfriend), but was ignored. Therefore, her mum had persuaded her into the car and driven her off to the closest, sunniest beach she could find (which isn't difficult when you live in Cornwall).

"C'mon Phil, is it really that bad?" Mum asked in desperation. Phillipa sighed loudly and turned to look away from her. She peeked outside the window.

Market stalls and ice-cream vendors flew by, throwing brave colours and fragrances in every direction. The hustle and bustle of the tourist rush was in full flow, and the meaningless chatter of the people was a hum of summer gossip.

Phil threw a quick glance at mum, who was keeping herself occupied with not trying to kill road crossers, and then down into her bag. She pulled out a chilled can of pop and opened it quietly. Sipping gently, she grimaced slightly at the fizz and metallic aftertaste. She didn't care that it tasted like that, this stuff was mass-produced anyway.


The car finally pulled to a stop on the sandy carpark, just up the hill from the beach. Filled as much enthusiasm as she could muster (which wasn't much), Phillipa jumped out the car and ambled down the road in her flip-flops, not bothering to wait for her mother.

Her auburn hair was tied back in a messy, slapdash bun at the back, with her fringe long and tucked behind her ears. Before she had come out, she'd made sure to put on plenty of suncream, since she had quite pale skin and burned easily.

This annoyed her, as she didn't look right with fake tan or dark foundation on - not that she wanted to look like all the others at her highschool.

Phil came to a stop at the end of the road, waiting for mum to catch her up, before she turned onto the sands and waves. She could smell the fresh seasalt and hear the waves softly crashing, and a small ounce of exitement crept under her skin.

The End

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