by Kat Pace
“I thought it wasn’t so bad at the bonfire,” Meg says. Trix shoots her a look.
“It wasn’t,” I blurt too quick.
“No? Why do you fucking hate him then?” Meg challenges me.
“Ugh, lest you forget the very main reason I hate him.” I shout across the water at her.
“Emmy, he cheated on you like 10 years ago,” Meg says. I almost roll off my float.
“Meg!” Trix shouts in a warning voice.
“Yea. OK. So let’s have Nate cheat on you. Call me in 10 years and tell me if it still hurts. Then ask why I hate Brooks.” My voice wavers a bit on his name.
“Em, we know why you hate him. We get it. It’s just,” Trix pauses. Her hands are playing with the unicorn. “Don’t you sort of want to let it go? You’re not trying to date him now.”
She’s not wrong. All the negative juju is affecting my vibe. I know the healthy thing to do is let it go.
“It’s too hard to go back. Can’t be friends with someone you’ve see naked,” I tease.
“No? Is that a new rule? Guess we can’t be friends,” Trix laughs.
“Us either. I’ve seen your tits like 100 times,” Meg agrees.
“Shut up!” I chuck the sunscreen cap at her.
“Come on,” Trix urges. “Let it go…. Baby steps.” Trix lets her unicorn bump into my flamingo.
“Baby steps,” I repeat, nodding. “Right. Well, tell the guys to come over then.”
“Great. They’ll be here in an hour!” Meg shouts from across the pool.
Literally spend the next hour counting down the seconds in my head. Warring the questions in my head. Do I hope he shows up? Does my bikini look OK? How about my messy bun? Why did I allow this? Will Brooks come?
I get my answer when the side fence creaks open. My eyes dart and do an immediate scan. Travis walks in first, thin and lanky almost. His eyebrow ring catches the sun and it reminds me of the nonexistent coins in the pool. Nate walks in right behind him. Alex. Some girl. The end.
Trix looks at me and grins, shrugging. I roll my head back and sigh relief. I also feel deflated. Because, after all I am just your basic girl. It’s not that I want to see Brooks’s face, hear his voice, and have to deal with him. It’s that I really want to.
“Hey babe,” Trix says, leaning up to kiss Travis at the edge of the pool.
“Hey guys,” Travis says. He hugs me and I catch a whiff of his minty breath.
“Hi Trav,” I nod.
“Hey, Em.” Nate says beside me, pulling off his T-shirt.
“Hey Nate.”
Alex jumps right in the pool. I watch everyone sort of just unfold. My eyes can’t help but dart back to the side gate every few seconds. It’s like I’m still waiting for him to show up.
“How were the waves?” Meg asks Nate.
“Eh, been better. Brooks will surf any wave though. Even flat ones,” he laughs.
“He’ll try to.” Travis adds, laughing.
“Brooks was with you earlier?” Trix asks the question for me. My eyes narrow on hers and her smile says you’re welcome.
“Yea. Still is. He’s out front. Think someone called him when we parked,” Travis says. He jumps into the pool and the rippling waves knock into my flamingo. He emerges, shaking out his shaggy hair.
I sit upright on the raft and stare at Travis. “He’s out front?” I can’t keep my voice from sounding so weird.
“Relax. He’s just playing hard to get,” Alex laughs.
“Here he comes now.” Nate nods.
I tense. My eyes shoot to the side fence gate. The familiar click open makes my heart race. I see his head over the top of the wood –dark and glossy waves of perfect hair –his sunkissed forehead and sharp eyes. Seriously.
Don’t look at him. Be cool.
My float keeps hitting the side of the pool. The waves confined to the pool are splashing water against the sides, the pavement surrounding the pool is dark with wet. I divert my eyes. Look at anything but him, Em. Look at the neon pink bikini on the girl Alex brought. Look how good Nate’s eyebrows are. Look at Alex. Look anywhere.
No luck.
My eyes look over the pool and in the direction of the gate. Brooks raises his eyes to meet mine the second I look. His lips twitch, barely, into a smile. I think it’s a smile.
“Hi.” Brooks says, standing above the side of the pool. I look up through my sunnies. His silhouette is dark in front of the sun.
“Brooks,” I say, hardly acknowledging him.
“Hey guys,” Brooks says to Trix and Meg.
“Are you finally done fighting with her now?” Travis smirks at Brooks.
“Never,” Brooks grins.
Fighting with who? Who is her? The bimbo from the bar, no doubt.
Who. Cares. Idiot.
Maybe I can make a run for inside. I slide off the float and right onto the tile next to the chaise lounges. I grab the towel and wrap it around me. Avoiding eye contact I pass right by Brooks and go to the stereo and my phone.
I feel him walking toward me, looking at me. I pretend to be fascinated by something on my digital box. It’s like I’ve never seen a phone before the way I stare at it. I shift my weight away from him and take a long sip from my colada. The sucking sound is coming out of the straw before I can stop it. Brain freeze.
Nope, I’m just freezing.
“Hi,” Brooks says again.
I sigh and turn to face him. He’s leaning against the ledge of the outdoor bar. The neckline of his white T-shirt is stretched out, draping low over his chest. It’s so thin I can see the dark shapes of his tattoos through the fabric. His arms –I’m dead. I try not to breathe in the smell of the ocean rolling off his skin.
“You left the other night.” Brooks says.
“The bar?” I ask.
“No. The bonfire,” he says, shaking his head.
WHAT?
“Yea, I left,” I say, still trying to avoid his eyes. “After you had already left.”
“No,” he says right away. Brooks steps into my line of sight so I have to look at him. “I was the last one there on that beach. Well, last one awake anyway.”
“Y-You were?” I ask. I hope my voice doesn’t sound too hopeful. Prob does. Brooks grins.
“Sure. I was trying to find you.”
Oh snap dad.
“You’re a few days late, but way to go. Mission accomplished.” I push past him to walk behind the bar. A solid marble slab separates us now. Probably for the best. For my own good. And his.
“You don’t like me very much anymore.” He tries to sound sad, but I hear the laughter behind it. Maybe this is all funny to him.
“Oh, you got smarter too. What gave it away?” I pour the leftover colada into my cup.
“Just reading you,” Brooks smirks, leaning into the bar. He’s halfway over the marble threshold. Encroachment.
“You can read now too?” I can’t help myself. I do it for the laugh. To hear it. To see the smile that creeps into his eyeballs when he laughs so hard.
“You got funny. When did that happen?” He laughs.
“I’ve had a lot of time,” I say. I duck out from behind the bar, skirt around him, and walk to the stereo again. My feet burn on the semi-wet pavement. My hands are really just looking for something to pretend-do.
He jumps back in front of me. I can’t get him out of my way.
“What do you want?” I finally just ask, folding my arms across my chest.
“I –nothing.” Brooks says. A trace of his earlier smirk is still on his lips. It’s like he’s deciding something.
“Ok then,” I nod. I move back to the pool. I catch Meg’s eyes on my way back. She’s rolling them at me.
I drop my towel on the chaise and slip back into the pool. By gift of the gods, I turn in time to see Brooks peel his T-shirt up over his head. He scrunches it into a ball and tosses it on one of the chairs. Why though?
I’m back on my flamingo; it drifts towards Alex and Katie (ma
ybe?). They push me toward Meg and Nate. Travis is hanging on the side of Trix’s unicorn. And my eyes find Brooks’s in the shallow end. I know they’re blue, but from here they’re black. He slowly swims in my direction. I can feel the water moving under the surface, driven forward by his underwater strides.
“Why won’t you leave me alone?”
“You don’t want me to,” Brooks says.
“Oh, but I do. Like, really really.” I push my hands out into the water to try and float in the opposite direction. I feel him latch onto my flamingo’s wing.
“Come on. We could be friends. We used to get along so well,” he smiles.
“We used to do a lot of things,” I say, eyes dark.
“Oh, I remember.” Brooks’s voice is low and slow.
“Funny.” I glare at him, crossing my arms. “Why do you want to be friends, anyway? Seems like you already made some new ones since you’ve been back.”
“You could say that,” he smirks. UGH. “Quite a few actually.”
“You’re disgusting.” I try to turn the float away from him.
We’ve drifted to our own little corner of the pool. Drifted or Brooks pulled us there. Either way. Sure, we are at most seven feet away from everyone else but it feels like the pool is empty. It’s just me, lounging over the center of my flamingo with Brooks standing by its side.
“Look,” Brooks says, his arm reaching for mine. “I’m trying to make this…” Brooks pauses, looking around like he may find the answer on the pool tiles. “Easy, or something.”
“But it’s not. It’s not gonna be easy, Brooks,” I say. “Ever.”
“I know it’s not. It’s just, damn,” he curses under his breath. Fingers in hair, again. Finally he looks up. “I’ll try to stay away from you.”
My mouth opens and then closes. I want to say no –that that’s not what I want, but I can’t say it. It should be what I want. But with him it’s like everything is backwards. I stare at his face –his jaw and lips and I just see myself being crushed all over again. “Try harder.”
I watch him struggle with forming words. I watch the gray-blue-green color amalgamation grow dark in his eyes. It looks like he’s fighting a smile.
“I think of what I should be doing. And Ems, I don’t know how to act around you.” Brooks’s fingers grip his hair, pushing it back until it tucks behind his ears. The use of his nickname for me physically hurts.
“So don’t act,” I say, quiet. “Don’t think. Just be.”
“Just be what?” He asks, trying to smile again.
“Whatever you want,” I tell him, playing with the glitter patch on the raft. Thinking about Valentine’s conversation hearts –you know the one: Be Mine.
“Just be sorry?” He creases his eyebrows, really emitting a deep in thought vibe.
“For starters,” I say, biting my lip. “We’ll see how long it lasts.”
Brooks almost laughs and rolls his eyes. He leans in, so close to my raft –just above my head. I can see the storm raging in the clouds of his eyes, water droplets on the tips of his lashes.
I can smell his skin so close, intoxicating. My heart starts racing. He moves his arm up and I think he might touch my face, my hair or something. But he just moves it across me and pushes me further into the deep end.
Mega Metaphorical.
The guys left at dusk. Meg left with them. It’s just Trix who remains. I stand with her in the fence doorway. Fenceway? My bathing suit is still wet against me and I cannot wait to peel it off and shower the chlorine away.
“Are you coming to the match tomorrow? Please comeeee,” Trix begs.
“The match? You all still do that?” I almost laugh.
“Is that judgment, really? After what I had to deal with listening to today?” Trix looks at me.
“Oh, Shut up. No judgment.” I smirk.
Our high school friend group played volleyball every Saturday on the beach. I was always pretty good. And always pretty drunk. Well we were all drunk.
“It’s at the Pier. Same as always.” She nods.
I nod before I can help it.
Also he’ll probably be there.
Also I hate myself.
I can’t help but lie in bed and replay everything that happened today. That’s still a thing people do, right? Like every girl ever. I can see him when I close my eyes and hear him. I can feel his presence like he’s in the bed next to me.
You wish, Em.
I do.
Volleyball Pier
“Nuts and berries, really?” My mom is standing at the counter. “Emmy, that’s hardly a breakfast.”
“It’s fine mom. Lots of protein. Don’t worry I had coffee too.” I swing my beach towel over my head.
“Lots of coffee.” My dad chimes in. He peeks at me from over the edge of the newspaper.
“Breakfast of champions,” I nod.
“Breakfast of squirrels,” my dad jokes.
“Are you going to the beach today?” My mom asks, refilling the coffee pot.
“What gave it away? My bikini? My towel?” I laugh.
“Both,” my dad says.
“I am going to the pier actually.” I try to keep the smile from creeping onto my face. Can’t betray myself now. “With Trix and Meg and everyone.”
“Mhmm,” she says, absentmindedly. But I know she knows.
I know we all know. It’s just unspoken. My parents are good with that at least –keeping their comments to themselves.
“Do they all still play volleyball games every Saturday?” Mom asks.
“Yup. Hanging with Trix and Meg after. I’ll be back later tonight.” I give her a quick kiss before leaving the kitchen.
“Have fun,” My dad calls behind me.
“Thanks!”
The pier is another thing that hasn’t changed in this town. The entire promenade is packed. Music from the arcade spills onto the beach. It’s just like I remember it:
Sand hot as fuck.
Cabanas lined along the promenade.
Striped umbrellas from 24 different hotels and B&Bs.
Coolers full of inconspicuous beers.
Kids crying because the sand is hot as fuck.
Waves lolling along the shoreline.
Shit it’s glorious.
I pay the $5 for my beach tag. I miss being a seasonal tag holder. I pin it to my tote. That’s right TOTE. I’m #trending.
I join Trix and Meg standing in the shade behind the lifeguard tower. Stand #6.
“Hi.” I announce my presence. The tote slips from my shoulder.
Alex jumps down from the stand and lands next to us.
I shrug out of my white crochet dress-beach cover-up crossover hybrid. It doesn’t know what its life is. Nor do I. I enjoy having things in common with my clothes.
“So jealous of your yoga bod.” Meg says.
“Yoga and vegan bod.” Trix corrects her, slipping out of her denim shorts.
Yoga. Veganism. Totes. I’m a walking trend addict.
“Like you two have anything to bitch about.” I roll my eyes.
I throw my identity crisis riddled cover-up at them. Trix really does look and move like a mermaid, languid and graceful, slender and beautiful with generous womanly attributes. Meg is also thin, but more in a sporty jock kind of way. Both have black bikinis on.
I’m wearing my new blue triangle bikini. It’s the only one I brought with me from Seattle. I untie the halter straps and tuck them under my arms. The spray nozzle on the sunscreen is busted, so I unscrew the cap. It smells like someone smashed open a coconut and out poured the remnants of a melted orange creamsicle.
“Match starts in fifteen.” Trix tosses me the volleyball.
“Everyone else is walking down now.” Meg follows.
I instantly perk up and look at the entrance. My eyes scan the crowd of tan beachgoers until I find him.
I quickly look away. Play it cool I remind myself. So he’s a hot boy. I’ve had plenty of hot boys. Cute dimples of m
y most recent conquest come to mind. What is my problem?
Brooks is the first to stop at the lifeguard tower. He’s looking only at me.
