When I fled my small town home to fly across the globe for a potential job on a remote island, I did it on a whim. And let’s just say my parents were not happy. According to them, the journey of self-discovery is not nearly as important as tending the family farm. I may not know a lot, but I do know that I needed space to breathe. To figure out who I am and what I want out of life. I desperately needed change. So I traded in my work boots and flannels for flip-flops, golf carts, and fit men in teeny-tiny swim trunks. I came here for adventure, but I never would have guessed that on a tropical island filled with creepy lizards, poisonous jellyfish, and one obscenely deranged monkey, it would be the surfer with the tight body and smart mouth that I really had to watch out for.