It wasn’t Keylaia’s fault. She’d just been running down the beach in her red tankini when it happened. She ran right into someone, and fell, hitting her head on a sizable rock.
That was her first mistake.
She felt like she was about to fall unconscious, but fought the blackness beginning to pour into her mind, trying hard to ignore the fierce pain that throbbed at the back of her head. (She sensed an odd, itchy coldness on her hand, but it soon dispersed…)
"Uhm, sorry.” She mumbled, “The sun’s in my eyes.” She squinted over at the person who was standing up slowly, and started. He was smiling, his dark blue eyes twinkling in the bright sun.
“Quite a’right, I wasn’t looking where I was going either.” Keylaia noticed he had a slight Australian accent. Blushing, she pulled herself up, watching as he brushed off his black-and-white trunks and shook his head, tousled brown-and-blonde streaked hair sending sand in all directions.
“I’m Keylaia. It’s, uh, nice to meet you…” Keyli (as she liked to be called) hoped her deep blush would leave soon as she offered him her hand; it was just making her more embarrassed. Okay, admittedly, she thought he was hot. Even if she was only fifteen, Keyli liked to think she had a pretty good taste in guys.
“Well, Keylaia, nice to meet you, even if the means were quite odd.”
He laughed easily, a smile filling his handsome features. “I’m Jecton, but most just call me Jec.” He took her hand, shaking it emphatically. Keyli guessed he was about nineteen or twenty, but she realized it didn’t matter. She’d never see him again.
“Well, I have to go. I’m sort of watching my little sis. ‘Bye!” She ran off down the beach, trying hard to look cool, although she doubted she looked anything but silly and obviously embarrassed.
“A’right then, g’bye, Keylaia!” he stumbled over her name, and she rolled her eyes. He had pronounced it Kee-lay-ay, as did most of the people she met. It was properly pronounced, (as far as she knew) Kah-lay-ya. Luckily, most people just called her Keyli, which was quite easy to pronounce. Shaking her head to rid herself of these random thoughts, she heard her mother call her name.
“Keyli, time to go!”
Aww, already? They’d only been there about an hour. She glanced at her hands to make sure they didn’t need to be rinsed off before they left, and jumped. On her right hand, in clear, green ink, a seven digit number lay, glittering in the sun. She realized it was the one she’d used to shake Jecton’s hand. Feeling odd, she ran up the beach, and jumped into the car, not paying attention to anything but her right hand. Was it Jec’s number, or had one of her sisters written seven random numbers on her palm when they were bored? It seemed like an odd coincidence, but for the moment she brushed away any thoughts of calling the number to check it. It was probably for the best if it washed away, especially since her mother would be very disturbed if she thought her oldest daughter was calling a guy she’d (literally) run into at the beach on their vacation. Keyli sighed. She’d liked Jec.
And I don't think this information has any bearing to the story at all. Cut it. 
