by Kat Pace
“Hi.”
“Brooks,” I say. Gotta be curt. Play it cool. Pretend you forgot all about seeing him last night. Brooks who?
“Nice suit.” He says. Something about the way he casually checks me out drives me wild.
“You too.”
Tiny sea turtles are swimming on his trunks. He doesn’t bother to wear a shirt. He doesn’t need to.
All the girls thank him for it. I sure do.
“Have fun last night?” He asks.
“Sure.” I nod.
“Crazy how the same it is, right?” Brooks asks. What does he want me to admit? That part of all this feels like we never left? Like we’re still together?
I remember he hasn’t exactly been back either. Or at least, I don’t think he comes back often. Still, I want to rip his hair out to make the smile disappear from his face.
I LOATHE him.
“Like we never left,” I shrug. There. I said it.
Can’t help but see Trix smirking at me. She knows too much for her own good.
“OK, who is ready?” Travis shouts, racing onto the sand-court.
“Let’s make teams!” Nate follows him.
“I call captain!” Alex shouts.
“You are always captain,” Meg calls him out. “Let Emmy and Brooks do it. They’re guests.”
“Guests?” I laugh.
“She’s not wrong. Captain,” Trix fake salutes me.
I roll my eyes and follow her onto the sand court.
Someone connects their phone to the speaker pod next to the water *beer* cooler. Nice spot in the shade of the lifeguard stand. First serve and first song up. Matt Nathanson’s Used to Be blares from the sidelines. Universe you sly dog you. You’re fucking working overtime.
So adding this to my mental playlist.
We divide into teams and spend the next three hours battling on the court, our feet pads burning on the sand. Katie, Nate, Emmy and Alex versus Trix, Travis, Meg and Brooks. I got fucking great at volleyball. I was never terrible, but my newfound flexibility has improved my game. Nate lifts me up for killer spike after killer spike. Travis is thinner than the other boys but it’s deceiving. He’s almost the best one playing. Then there’s Brooks.
After several rounds and several beers, we migrate from the sand to the water.
“How about Chicken? For old time’s sake?” Travis asks, colliding with a breaking wave.
“I’m in.” Alex rushes into the water. “Come on, Katie.”
She runs in behind him.
“You’re on!” Meg follows.
Mostly everyone follows into the water, just above waist deep on the guys. My eyes dart first to Trix and then to Brooks. Trix, because of the oddly squealish sound she makes at the suggestion of chicken. Brooks because I’m stuck wondering if he’s thinking the same thing as me. We were always the best partners. Always crushed the competition.
“Pair up!” Meg shouts.
Oh fuck, Meg.
Slowly, we all pair off. Trix and Travis, Meg and Nate, Alex and some chick named Katie. Me and…
“You good with this?” Brooks stands between me and the water. It’s hardly at my ankles.
I shrug. “Do I have a choice?”
“We could… not play,” he smiles awkwardly. I’m not entirely used to this him. “But it’d be a shame to break our winning streak now.”
I roll my eyes and walk right past him into the water. I turn around to see him. “Keep up!”
He laughs and tucks his hair behind his ears. Brooks turns to swim out and I follow after him, tossing my hair into a wild bun beehive on my head.
I climb onto Brooks’s shoulders and I’m alert to the fact that he is so close. We are so close. He wraps his arms around my legs to lock me in place. They slide slowly up. I respond by lightly running my hand through his hair under the pretense of clearing his face. I can’t see the front of him, but I can imagine the stupid grin sprawling across his face. It probably looks a lot like mine right now.
I cling to Brooks as desperately as the drops of water searching for skin to land on. Yea, fuck me. As sure and definite as the waves crashing against the sandy beach, he tosses me from his shoulders and dunks me in the water and easily swings me over his head. One. Two. Three. Fight after fight we reclaim our old title of champs. Then it turns guys against girls. The guys have to get the girls off their shoulders.
Everyone dunking everyone.
I wrap my legs around his waist, our fronts basically glued together, and hold onto his wet shoulders. It takes every single bit of will power to resist reaching up and kissing him. There’s a look in his eyes that I can’t place. But again, I’m sure his eyes probably look a lot like mine right now. And I know what I feel.
It’s quite a marvel how we can so easily fall back into our old lives. Into old forgotten versions of ourselves. Time doesn’t need to change everything. It just wants to.
10:00 PM
Another bonfire. Evidently, it’s the only thing to do around here besides bar-hop. We’re back to the spot from the bonfire and I hate that it already has bad memories for me.
Trix was right. I am dramatic.
Travis wants to skinny-dip.
It’s a pretty split decision and only half of us stay back by the fire. Trix and Meg disappear to the car to get blankets and Alex takes out his guitar once again.
“Ems.” Brooks’s voice startles me. I jump a little.
“Jay,” I nod.
My heart races in my chest. It’s beating so fast that if he were some mythical mentally abusive vampire he’d be able to hear it. No doubt.
He takes a step toward me. I smell the salt rolling off his skin. New cologne: Summer in a Bottle. “Walk with me?”
Brooks stretches out his hand. It looks so inviting. I haven’t been this attracted to toned forearms since … well ever. And his fingers. The kind of fingers you just know are dexterous at life. A walk? It seems friendly, not ill intentioned. Am I strong enough for it? No. Am I strong enough to stop it? No.
“I’ll walk.” I stand up, careful to avoid his hand. He rolls his eyes and turns to follow me.
We walk toward the water, our backs to the rest of the world. With each step the guitar is more muffled by ocean waves. I’m cautious to walk close enough to Brooks that I can hear him, almost feel him there. Not that it’s dark, I mean I can see him. Thanks moon and stars. But still, I remain far enough away that I can trust myself. Trust half-buzzed Emmy.
Our feet meet the water. It laps at our ankles. It’s been too long since I’ve felt the east coast beneath my toes. I know, what a Jersey thing to say.
“It was kind of fun crushing you today.” Brooks grins.
“Crushing? Please. Glad you feel good about being put on the better team.” I can’t help it. I smile.
“Don’t downplay my skill.”
“Yea right.” I roll my eyes. “Your only skill is being like 6’4” on a good day.”
“You noticed I’m taller?” He sounds pleased, cocky even. Cock. Fuck you, Emmy. Focus.
“Hard to miss.” I say, turning to him. “Almost too tall if you ask me.”
“I’ve noticed quite a few things changed with you too.” Brooks inches closer on the sand.
Hands to yourself, Em.
“Years will do that.” I joke. “I’m just glad you’re still good at Chicken.”
“We’re good at Chicken. Team effort,” he says.
“Our one claim to fame.” I roll my eyes.
“You know Emmy, I’ve developed some other skills I’d like to show you.”
I turn and gasp, eyes bulging wide. He tosses his head back and laughs at my reaction.
“Please. If I remember correctly, most of those skills were beyond repair.” I regroup quickly. I’m a pro.
“Like I said, I’ve developed.” Brooks smirks.
“Well keep the developments to yourself.” I smile. Brooks laughs.
The laughter feels nice, almost normal.
�
��So can I ask you?” Brooks’s godlike voice distracts me. I steal a glance at his perfectly sculpted face rivaling marble under the moonlight. Seriously, what is going on? Hi Universe, Zeus called, he wants his demi-god back
“Ask me? What?” I answer.
“Why you came back. Why now?” He isn’t looking at me. He’s pondering all pensively and looking at the ocean. In the dark. I get it. It’s a vibe and a half right now. We’re both treading this shallow water –worried we will drown where we can stand. Does he feel it too? This raw and visceral energy?
“Trix wouldn’t stop bothering me,” I tease.
“I buy that.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “But really. Any other reason?”
“I don’t know,” I admit.
My drunken self has many things she’d like to offer, but somehow I resist her. Because I was finally unafraid? Finally felt strong enough? Other things I can never admit aloud to him?
“It just felt like time.” I confess to both of us.
“I was beginning to wonder if I’d ever see you again.” Brooks walks slowly beside me.
“You wondered about me? What a privilege.” I keep my voice steady. Don’t fangirl the demi-god, Em.
“Ha-ha, don’t flatter yourself. I may have thought about you once or twice,” he admits.
“Only once or twice?” I ask, feigning disappointment. “Had to at least have been nine or ten.”
“It was maybe nine or ten… hundred.” Brooks laughs. I laugh. We laugh together like nerds reading the same comic book. Sorry nerds.
We laugh together and I swear it’s a melody that feels real to my soul. Like I’ve been waiting to hear my favorite song again.
“That’s good to know. Didn’t think you’d have much time to think between all the blondes.” I joke, referencing his many social media babes.
“Jealously looks kinda hot on you, Ems.” Brooks teases.
“Please, green is not my color.” I laugh.
“NC is full of babes. What can I say?” He shrugs. I absolutely hate him.
“Spoken like a true lax bro,” I say, fake applauding.
He takes a fake bow.
It’s nice, maybe, that we can joke about him being a player now. Not like it’s the reason we broke up or anything.
“So,” I bite my lip. “Why are you back now?”
“It just,” he pauses. “Felt like time.”
I glance at him sideways and laugh. What a dick. “Stealing my line. Very original.”
“I try,” he laughs. “But really, Travis wouldn’t stop bugging me.”
“Ha-ha,” I fake laugh.
“I came back for my mom. To help out a bit. Like you, I won’t be staying the rest of the summer.”
“Your mom? Is everything OK with her?” I ask. Brooks’s mother and father were almost like a second set of parents to me growing up. My mom didn’t tell me any news about them. I also didn’t ask.
“My parents sort of …split last fall.” Brooks goes quiet. I feel him tense a bit.
“Split? No way! But they always… I mean.” I stop myself. What do I mean? It’s not like I knew them knew them.
His mom was always warm and friendly and wore brightly colored Hawaiian shirts a lot. She picked us up from school when we were still too young to drive. Brooks’s dad is another story. Not so warm and not as friendly. Tough on Brooks and Brody, but Brooks go the brunt of it. Always pushed his sons to play sports and diet and lord only knows what else.
“I know. It’s OK. It’s what they needed. Dad’s left to Florida to run his new business. Branch off from the B&B. Mom’s been left with everything here.”
“Wow. It must be a lot for her.” I’m sure it is.
“It’s been an adjustment. She’ll never admit she needs help. But Brody is around a lot now. He moved back after graduating UNC last year.”
“Oh my god, Brody graduated? No way!” I laugh. Brody is his little brother. Betting he’s not so little anymore and wonder if he had a massive glow-up like Brooks did.
“Didn’t forget about him, did you?” He laughs.
“Hard to forget. He was always the handsome one.” I smirk.
“Yea yea, that’s Brody.” Brooks rolls his eyes.
“I guess I forgot he was so close in age. He’ll always be fifteen to me.” I say.
I dig my toes in the sand, engrossed in and alarmed by the conversation –the vibe –the palpable ease settling between us.
I’m aware this isn’t good. But I’m also aware this is so good.
“So why Florida?” I ask.
“Miami to be exact.” Brooks smiles. “Bothers me to visit every month.”
I laugh. I can’t picture Brooks and his dad together in Miami. At the same time I can.
“What’s his business?” I ask. Last I knew, his parents were running *owning* several Bed and Breakfasts in town. They may have purchased a small motel chain along the Jersey shore. If my social media stalking memory serves me correctly.
“He purchased Star Resorts.” Brooks looks at me, like he’s trying to gauge my reaction.
“STOP! When did he do that?” I ask.
Stars Resorts is a massively popular hotel conglomerate located along the entire US coastline. Like, next level huge.
“Ha-ha. The deal has been in the works for years. Since I was still in school really. Under contract for two years and finalized last year.”
“Wow. Things are really changing for your family, huh?” I say.
“They are. I try not to notice it. I’m doing my thing and we’ll see where that takes me.” Brooks shrugs.
“Living your best life?” I laugh at myself.
LIVING YOUR BEST LIFE. Wtf is wrong with you, Emmy? I mean, same. Living your best life, but NEVER SAY IT OUT LOUD. Brooks can hardly answer over laughing at me.
“Living my best life yes. Similar to you I expect? Aren’t you all zen and shit?”
“All zen and shit. My slogan.”
“Great slogan.”
Brooks’s smile literally reflects the moonlight. I’m blinded. “No plans to move home?” I ask.
“No plans.” He shakes his head. “How about you?”
I shake my head back. “No plans.”
“So here we are,” Brooks says, sitting back down. “Two people with no intention of moving back home. And we are both back home.” Brooks tosses back his head and laughs.
“Temporarily home. Two weeks. Well, like one and a half weeks now.” I remind him. “How about you?”
“About two weeks.”
“Pretty convenient.” I nod.
“Great coincidence,” Brooks agrees. Something flashes in his eyes and I think maybe it’s the old him. It’s the him I remember from years ago. The one I knew before he hurt me.
“You’re different. You’ve changed.” I can’t stop the words before they escape my lips.
“And?” He urges, sensing or maybe knowing there’s more.
“And it’s nice. I don’t know what I expected or how I thought this would be, but it’s –it’s not bad.” I tuck my flyaways behind my ears.
“Not bad,” Brooks says, nodding. “You either.”
I laugh and punch his shoulder and he grabs my wrist. I drop my hand to his skin and trace the outlines of his tats.
“New developments?” I smirk at him.
“A few,” he laughs.
I examine them now, up close enough to see the detail. They are thin lines, minimally sketched like with a fine-tip marker, geometric looking shapes with clear edges.
“Moon phases?” I say, running my fingers over a mini row of moons. This tat is just under the hem of his short sleeve. “Is this for your changing moods?”
“No, thank you,” Brooks says, pulling down his sleeve. “It’s for the tides –the ocean –reminds me that we have no control over some things.”
I study a single B initial, for his last name no doubt. There are some random triangles and a few circles, filled in, that I’m sure are sig
nificant of something. A bare geometric butterfly outline is on the underside of his bicep.
Brooks and butterfly don’t really seem to go together.
