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Landon was a close second contender for first out of the car, and he was equally nimble in untying the boards from its extended roof. When Juliana, Rutilio, and Kartlos had found him in front of the Brazilian’s Citroen DS3, he had been panting as heavily as if he had run a marathon. Indeed he had, for in his haste Landon had forgotten to ask which car they would be driving in and as a result had raced around the entire parking lot several times in succession searching for it. Eventually, the Paparazzi tipped him off in the form of a text from the greatly amused party he was searching for, and he used the hint to track down the blue French convertible. With great relief, he had finally found it nestled in a comfy and shaded niche and, sinking down beside it, had used bubble transport to summon his boarding shorts and two surfboards. Landon had smiled when he saw the star-spangled surfers float up to him and changed hastily. Gran would not be pleased to find his board missing, but the little bear had no way of knowing where his master was anyway!

When everyone had piled into the car at last, Landon instantly called the shotgun seat. No one complained; after all, he was the only one who knew how to even get to the beach in the first place. They drove for several minutes, listening to Juliana’s favorite Latin bands and turning wherever California indicated, and before long the sunny shores of Axis High’s secluded beach graced their vision. By the time they had parked, Landon was all rested up and could once again exploit his agility to beat almost everyone out of the Citroen.

When the Brazilian exclaimed at America’s beautiful beaches, California puffed out his chest in pride, immediately assuming that it was his beaches she praised. “Of course we have the best beaches!” he bragged happily. “We conquered all the land from sea to shining sea just so that we could have all this wonderful coastline! In fact, this looks a whole lot like my Newport Beach back home! You should all come visit me someday,” he added. “My beaches are world famous! Even England’s stuffy gentlemen agree!”

The state eagerly ran across the glistening sand banks toting his personal surfboard, not at all feeling the burn of the superheated and untouched white grains. “Come on, you guys; let’s surf!” he cheered shortly before diving expertly into the water with his board. He came up in a quick moment, dripping everywhere but smiling ecstatically, cresting the biggest wave to make it inland and gliding gracefully to the next.
***

||~You wish You were the Golden State~||

Florida pouted a little when both Juliana and Kartlos were surprised by how beautiful the beaches were. Just looking at him should have been an indicator! The gulf state decided to temporarily ignore the unintentional slights to his sexiness and instead peeled off his his school uniform down to everything except his boxers. Sure swimsuits were more comfortable and nice to have in the modern era, but they weren't actually necessary. Rutilio took in a deep breath of salty sea air and stretched before turning his attention to Brazil and winking at her.

"Do not feel intimidated by my underwear," he said to the tropical nation as he approached the water at a slightly more sedate pace than the other boys. "If you catch yourself staring do not be alarmed. It is a natural reaction, si~?" It had only just occurred to him he didn't actually have a surf board, but maybe he could find a "local" that would help him out. Rutilio could already tell it was a pretty densely populated "neighborhood."

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▬▬▬▬▬▬ ▬▬▬（ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ）▬▬▬ ▬▬▬▬▬▬

▬▬▬▬▬▬ ▬▬▬（ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ）▬▬▬ ▬▬▬▬▬▬

Landon flipped expertly from wave to wave, smiling as Kartlos tried and failed to ride his first wave. Obviously, the Georgian was but a landlubber, and the Californian glided near to help him if he fell. In the next moment, Kartlos did fall, and when he came up again, clinging almost possessively to his surfboard—which was actually Gran’s—Landon held out a hand, which the Georgian refused to grab for fear of falling again. “Make sure you watch the waves before they ambush you!” he advised.

“The best way to stand up when you fall like that is to put your hands under you and push yourself quickly up,” he added, coasting near. After cannonballing off his board, Landon grabbed it and laid down right in the middle so that his toes just met the tip of the board, positioning his hands palm-down next to his pectoral muscles. Then, with an explosive heave, the Californian shoved himself up using sheer arm strength, planting his feet near the center where his waist used to be. Cresting the wave he had intercepted in the process of teaching Kartlos, Landon quickly surfed back to where the Georgian was to watch him try the same.

While he surfed idly in a circle, cresting waves as they came, he watched as Juliana dived into the water in a skimpy green bikini and came up riding through a tube. For a moment, Landon envied her luck in catching a full tube so soon after entering the water, but he didn’t dwell on that. After all, it would be his turn soon.

Rutilio seemed to have forgotten not only his swim trunks—instead stripping to his boxers—but also his surfboard. The gulf state was now talking to some crabs on the shoreline, uncharacteristically dry for being so near the ocean. “Hey, bro!” he called, bobbing about on a high wave he had intercepted to watch, “Quit pulling an England and SURF!”
***

||~You wish You were the Golden State~||

"I am not pulling an England!" Florida objected right back to Landon. "England can't talk to aquatic animals; he just sees things! It is completely different!" Or at least he liked to think so, but his weird habit also generally amounted to him having conversations that no one else could hear or prove were really happening. It certainly wasn't anymore reassuring to see Rutilio chattering away with fish than watching England talk to thin air.

Before he could attempt to further educate his little brother on the finer points of talking with weird animals, Rutilio found himself with a surfboard shoved into his hands as Kartlos dragged him towards the water. The Floridian stumbled a bit in the sand but quickly regained his balance and followed afterward. He blinked for a moment before chuckling. "Oh! I probably should show you how it's done, si~?"

While surfing wasn't nearly as easy at his place as it was at California's and it required the presence of tropical storms or certain seasonal changes to bring good waves to his beaches, Florida was skilled enough in the sport. It would be nice if he could practice more, but he always took advantage of the surfing opportunities he got. Within moments of breaking through the surf he was out and prepared to hit the first waves, showing off a bit and telling Kartlos how the real surfers did it. He smirked at Landon while giving his instructions, knowing how much fun it could be to set off his competitive sibling.

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Florida had been paying more attention to showing Kartlos how to use the surf board then his brother and by the time he happened to glance up the Californian had disappeared from sight. Rutilio blinked and glanced around as he felt a small twinge of concern tug at him. Sure Alta had grown up into a very powerful state who could more than handle himself, but the Floridian remembered when he was still a baby a little too clearly for him not to feel a little paranoid. Well, not paranoid enough to actually search for Landon and decided to simply wait and see when the blonde would pop up next as he returned his attention to Georgia's lessons.

Luckily the wait wasn't too long and Rutilio smiled when he saw the Californian coming back. "Let me guess~!" he chirped playfully. "You found America's lost ability to read the atmosphere?" Actually, Florida was pretty sure Alfred had never had that to begin with...

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