Kelly was stuffing her bikini into her sunglasses case, trying bravely not to cry. ‘But I don't think I'm ready for a new boyfriend, Mish.’

‘You know what they say about falling off a horse, Kel?’

‘What?’

‘You have to get straight back on.’

‘Will isn't a horse.’

‘He dumped you, didn't he?’

‘Yes.’

‘It hurt, didn't it?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then it was exactly like falling off a horse.’

Kelly squeezed a tear into her sunglasses case with the bikini and snapped it shut. Then she poked the case down a narrow crevice in her bag and stood contemplating her toenails (which I must say were painted a rather tacky shade of orange).

‘Are you sure you can't fit any more in that bag?’ I asked.

‘Only the sad, lonely pieces of my broken heart,’ she sniffed.

Kelly is my best friend and I love her dearly but she is a total drama queen. Kel will turn a molehill into the entire Himalayan range if you let her. And I wasn't about to let her. ‘You need to get on with your life, not sit moping over some boy.’

‘Will isn't some boy. He's the boy. It's only been a week. I think I'm entitled to wallow a little longer.’

‘A week is a long time in the almanac of love, Kel. For love of Romeo, Juliet met, married and killed herself, all in five days. Britney was married and divorced in fifty-five hours. Besides, I know you'll like AJ.’

‘Everyone likes AJ.’ My ten-year-old brother Toby popped up from behind the couch to butt into the conversation. His eyes were hidden behind Mum's sunglasses and a pair of binoculars dangled from his neck. Toby has recently decided upon a career with the paparazzi. He says the paparazzi are the big game hunters of the twenty-first century except that stalking celebrities is a lot less cruel than killing tigers. Plus, the paparazzi earn a lot of money for doing very little. The only problem is – there being very few celebrities in our neighbourhood – he spends all his spare time stalking me.

‘I told you I'd kill you if you eavesdropped again!’ I screamed, but Toby just shrugged and ducked behind the couch before I could grab him by the binocular strap and strangle him. ‘And what do you mean “everyone likes AJ”?’

‘What's not to like?’ came his muffled voice from under the couch. ‘He'll lend you his surfboard, share his last five bucks and doesn't mind playing with kid brothers. Unlike some people I know.’ With that, Toby popped up again, digital camera in hand, and snapped me in the act of maiming him for life with a flying bottle of shampoo.

‘Kids!’ shouted my father from the car. ‘Is that the last of the luggage? Because I think the Toyota is about to sink into the concrete.’

We didn't talk much during the last minutes of our winding journey to the beach house. Me, because I was concentrating on not throwing up the souvlaki I ate for lunch; Mum and Dad because they had just had their twentieth argument about which route was shortest; Toby because he was spying on every parked car we passed and Kel because she was … well, Kel. Kel didn't say a lot, which was one reason why she and AJ would be perfect for each other. I had spent four weeks of every summer with AJ for the last fifteen years and I doubt he ever said more than ten words in one utterance. AJ mostly kept his thoughts to himself. Not like me. My philosophy is, why waste a good thought when you can share it with somebody who might find it useful. Yes, Kel and AJ would be perfect for each other. She certainly needed someone to lift the cloud which had been shadowing her since Will dumped her for a girl with big hair and too much fake tan. Even shopping hadn't done the trick.

AJ's mum and mine had been coming to Kent River since they were kids; hanging out at the general store in their Harry high pants and platform shoes and baking themselves to a crisp on the wide stretch of sand between the river mouth and the point. When they had kids, they continued the tradition. AJ was like my boy next door, only in little video clips of four weeks every summer. He was fun, loyal and cute – in a Jack Russell kind of way.

‘Mum, I think the people in that car are having sex,’ Toby said as we cruised past a station wagon parked at a scenic viewing spot high above the ocean.

‘How would you know?’ I said.

‘The car's bouncing up and down.’

‘Put the binoculars away, Toby, before you get me arrested!’ Dad shouted from the driver's seat.

I was pondering the physics of generating enough force to rock a car simply by having sex when the Toyota slowed to a crawl as Dad turned off the coast road. We climbed the last hundred metres to the beach house and Kel finally looked up from her iPod. She smiled as we pulled up outside the creaking weatherboard house tottering on its wooden stilts.

‘It looks really cosy.’

‘You could call it that,’ I said. ‘Or you could call it small, run-down, and lacking in the most basic necessities, such as cable TV and broadband.’

‘I like it.’

‘You liked Will.’

‘Look! There's AJ!’ Toby said, focusing his binoculars on the beach below. I snatched the binoculars from him in a manoeuvre I had learned in basketball which involved hooking one arm through your opponent's then snatching the ball with the other and hoping the ref didn't notice.

‘I can't see him,’ I said, scanning the beach.

‘The red floral boardies, carrying the kayak.’

‘That's not AJ. That guy's too tall and buff.’

‘I thought you said AJ was hot,’ Kel muttered.

‘He is, but in a small neat package like Tobey Maguire.’

‘If he's so hot, why haven't you grabbed him yourself?’

‘He's the boy next door, Kel! Besides, I don't have enough time for boys,’ I added. ‘Between homework, sport and music I barely have time to squeeze my pimples.’

‘It's AJ all right,’ said Toby, snatching back the binoculars. ‘I can tell by the scar on his knee where you dared him to climb the waterfall last summer.’

AJ and I had an arrangement. As soon as I arrived I would hang the skull and crossbones from the veranda railing to let him know I was there. I could have sent him a text message but it wouldn't be the same as a pirate flag flapping jauntily in the breeze. The flag was faded now and the eyes gaped where moths had snacked on them but I still unfolded it from my suitcase and set it to fluttering. You could see our veranda all the way to the point and AJ usually turned up within the hour.

‘Where does AJ hang his flag?’ asked Kel.

‘What do you mean?’

‘To let you know he's here.’

‘What would be the point in that? I already know he's here because he comes when he sees my flag.’ Kelly could be remarkably dense sometimes.

But AJ didn't come and the long cool lines of surf beckoned.

The beach smelled of seaweed and summer as Kel and I waded through the shallows a short time later with obligatory yelps at the chill water and a brief stop to adjust the alignment of our bikinis. A kayak came shooting past us and one of the paddlers waved as it scooted over the fading ripples to the sand.

‘It's AJ!’ I shouted, surprised at the leap in my chest. I guess I was anticipating Kel and AJ's meeting, hoping they would like each other and confirming my good judgement. I have a flair for affairs of the heart. Apparently, my emotional IQ is very high, at least according to a magazine quiz I once took.

AJ and his friend leapt from the kayak and heaved it further up the sand. Then he turned and lifted an arm in salute. ‘Hey, Mish, long time no see!’ he called.

This couldn't be AJ. My AJ was kind of compact with short brown hair and a tentative grin. This boy looked like AJ's older, hotter brother with long, sunny brown hair brushing broad shoulders, at least six inches extra height and an easy smile.

Except AJ didn't have an older brother.

‘Hey, AJ!’ I croaked, blinking salt water from my eyes in case they were deceiving me. When I opened them again, AJ and his friend were just a few metres away. Last year, AJ would have dived through my legs or circled me like a shark before zeroing in on the ticklish spot behind my knees. This year, he just stood there – an ocean of water and a bucket-load of living between us. I suppose I must have been just standing there too because Kel elbowed me pointedly. ‘Oh, yeah, this is my friend Kelly.’

‘Hi Kelly, this is Macka. Macka, this is Mish.’

‘That's short for MacKenzie.’ Macka grinned. He had one of those big grins that showed all his teeth and you could play join-the-dots with his freckles. Macka stood almost six feet tall – just a fingernail shorter than the new AJ – and his curly blond hair was styled with salt.

Kelly smiled vaguely at both guys. ‘I've never kayaked in the surf before.’

‘You want to try it? I can take you out,’ said AJ.

‘I'll take you. He'll get you drowned,’ said Macka.

‘Thanks, mate.’

‘Maybe I could go out with both of you. But I'll probably be useless,’ said Kelly. ‘The last thing I paddled was a big rubber ring at a water park and that capsized.’

‘I can kayak,’ I said but nobody heard me. The guys were too busy arguing about who should take Kel out first and Kel was too busy watching them.

‘I thought you were still wallowing,’ I hissed in Kelly's ear a few minutes later as AJ helped her clamber into the kayak and Macka leapt in after her.

‘I'm learning to kayak, Mish,’ Kel huffed, ‘not tattooing their names on my buttocks.’

AJ pushed the kayak over the first breaker then stood shaking his head in disbelief as he watched Macka battle Kel's atrocious paddling technique all the way out beyond the breakers. ‘This could take all summer,’ he said.

‘You look different,’ I said, considering him through narrowed eyes.

‘Yeah, well, I've been eating my Weeties. You look the same.’

What did that mean? Instead of asking I gave him a shove hard enough to knock him backwards into a breaking wave. When he surfaced twenty metres in to shore, blowing water from his nose and extricating sand from his boardies he yelled, ‘You're going to pay for that!’

Our days fell into a pattern. Sleep in until Mum threatened to throw us into the street in our PJs. Hit the beach after breakfast to surf, swim or kayak with AJ, Macka (and Toby if it couldn't be avoided). Play beach cricket or walk to the point when the day grew cooler. In the fading light we'd hang out by the store with other friends or there'd be a movie or a barbecue at the surf club. AJ certainly seemed to like Kelly. His face opened in a smile as soon as we appeared each morning and he had more to say to her than he'd ever said to me.

It was pretty much like every other summer, except this time there was something not quite right. Instead of slipping into each day like wading into the surf, I woke up agitated and breathless, wondering what would happen next. Would AJ make a move on Kel? Would he slip that smooth bronzed arm around her shoulders? Would he finally zoom in for the big pash? Or had they been making out behind my back already, all tongues and teeth and writhing torsos?

‘Kel?’ I asked as we spread our towels on the sand one morning.

‘Hmm?’

‘Has he kissed you yet?’

‘Why?’

‘Well, you don't want to let things go too far too quickly. You know what happened with Will.’

‘You're the one who wanted to set me up with a new boyfriend!’

‘I know. And I do. It's just that … well, has he?’

‘If I told you, you'd have an opinion.’

‘No I wouldn't!’

‘Yes you would!’

AJ rolled up at that moment, his eyes straying accidentally to my breasts before quickly flicking away to smile at Kelly. ‘Don't believe her. She has an opinion on everything.’

‘I do not. I don't have an opinion on cricket. It's too boring.’

‘See what I mean? Even when she's not having an opinion, she has an opinion.’ He and Kelly shared a glance and a laugh like co-conspirators. Last summer I would have laughed with them but this year my laugh turned into a hiccup which threatened to become a sob.

‘I'm going in,’ I said. ‘I'll leave you two to it.’

‘What did that mean?’ AJ caught up with me as I dived beneath a wave cresting into a tumble of white water.

I came up repeating the mantra my father had taught me all those years ago. ‘Under, over, under, over …’ Jump over the smooth swells, dive under the breakers. That way you won't get hurt. All I had to do here was dive under until the breaker had passed. All I had to do was let it wash over me.

‘What's wrong with you, Mish? You're pricklier than a sea urchin,’ AJ said, surfacing beside me. He knew the under/over rule as well as I did.

‘Nothing. You two seem to be getting on so well, I didn't want to cramp your style. You know … the part where you reach over for the sunscreen and accidentally lean so close that you can't help swooping in for the pash?’

AJ watched my face for a moment as if he was looking for something, then he shook his head slightly so that little beads of water flew from his hair, catching the light. ‘You were the one who pushed me away last summer, said it was better if we stayed friends.’

‘And I meant it.’

Yes, I had meant it at the time. But AJ was different this year, older, more sure of himself. He'd caught up with me somehow. I even had to look up slightly to meet his eyes. Last summer it was the other way around. ‘Be good to Kel, AJ. She's fragile.’

I dived under the next wave and swam for as long as my breath held, my breasts scraping the sandy bottom. When I surfaced, AJ was riding the wave back to the beach where Kelly waited, his body a human bullet gliding through the frothing water. Well, that was an alternative. Instead of going under or over, you could always ride the wave to its conclusion. But AJ was my friend and Kelly was my best friend. I wanted it to stay that way.

‘Hey, Mish!’ Toby called from the veranda. ‘Is that Kelly down by the barbecues kissing some boy?’

‘What?’ I raced out onto the deck and snatched the binoculars.

‘I thought we weren't supposed to be spying!’ said Toby.

‘I'm not spying, I'm just checking,’ I said, zooming in on the picnic area. There was Kelly, her arms around somebody's neck, but that somebody was hidden by a tree. ‘I can't see who it is.’

‘Who else could it be?’ said Toby, just as I caught a glimpse of red floral board shorts.

‘Who else, indeed?’ Casting the binoculars in Toby's direction I rushed into my room, grabbed a pen and paper and flung myself onto the bed. I would get this stupid idea out of my head if it was the last thing I did.

It was a long shallow walk out past the breakers that night. The surf was flat and the waves hissed onto the sand as I waded out up to my chin, bobbing over each small crest. The sea was so calm there was no need to dive under, just walk right on through. My hand was still cramping as I swung my arm in a smooth arc and hurled the bottle as far out to sea as I could. Then I turned and swam back towards the beach. That should do the trick.

Kelly was still in bed when I left for the beach the next morning. She'd been sending text messages late into the night while she thought I was asleep. Down by the sea, rows of surfers floated like seals out where the first line of breakers swelled. A lace of seaweed trimmed the beach at the high tide mark as I set off towards the point at a fast stride. There was a man out walking his dog and two old ladies paddling through the shallows with their trousers rolled up to their knees but no one else was about until I heard the soft squeak of someone running behind me.

‘Mish! Wait!’

AJ fell into step beside me without saying another word. For once I didn't have an opinion to offer, either.

‘I was down on the beach early this morning,’ he said finally. ‘I found something.’

‘A shell?’

‘No. A bottle.’

‘What kind of bottle?’

‘The full kind.’ He pulled a crumple of paper from his pocket and smoothed it out on his palm. I suddenly knew that if I looked over his shoulder I would see lines and lines of straggly writing all saying the same thing. He paused to look at me but I was deliberately staring out to sea. ‘Mish, the tide was turning last night. The bottle came back.’

‘I don't know what you're talking about.’

‘How about “I will not love AJ” written a thousand times?’

‘So? The operative word is not.’

‘Will not, not do not.’

‘I was getting rid of ghosts.’

‘What ghosts?’

‘The ghosts of what-might-have-been.’

AJ stepped in front of me so that I had to stop or walk straight into his chest. He grasped me by the upper arms to hold me still. ‘Last year you said we were just friends.’

‘We weren't ready to be more than friends last year. And now it's too late. Now you have Kelly. And Kelly is my friend.’

‘What makes you think I want Kelly?’

‘You were kissing her for a start.’

‘I never did!’

‘I saw you. Well, actually, I saw your board shorts kissing her.’

‘I lent my boardies to Macka because he ripped his on the rocks.’

‘Then it wasn't you kissing Kel?’

‘No! The only person I want to kiss is you.’

When we finally came up for air, AJ had a few more than ten words to say. After he told me how sexy he thought I was and how he'd wanted to kiss me since we were twelve, he gave me a lecture. I hate lectures.

‘Being loyal is cool, Mish, but you can't always be in control. Sometimes you've just got to go with the flow. Let the wave take you where it will.’

That's okay, I suppose, so long as the wave is going where I want it to go.