by Kat Pace
It’s enough.
“Come on!” Travis shouts over to us.
“Always waiting on the girls,” Alex rolls his eyes. He swings his arm around his flavor of the week. I think I recognize her from before.
I follow Meg and Trix to the water. We wade out until it’s halfway up our legs, lapping at our kneecaps. We hand our bags up to the boys and climb into the boat.
Brooks moves when I move. He situates himself near me, watching me, like he’s ready to jump in and rescue me should I fall overboard. I reach my palm down to his thigh and gently pat his swim trunks. He just looks at me with that hunger and I have to look away before I yield to the urge.
I slide my sunnies off my head to help hide my eyes.
“Em, wanna seltzer?” Meg asks, holding up a can from the cooler.
“Course,” I say, taking it and catching a koozi Trix throws at me.
Travis puts the boat in gear and a faint purr issues beneath us. He steers away from the bay, away from the canal, and into the open water.
It’s a clear and perfect day. The sky is a spotless, crystal blue and the sun reflects off the water like it’s dancing on the surface. Our boat cuts across the waves leaving streaks of white in our wake. I’m reminded of the seagulls and their arcing patterns in the sky. Our boat is charming too.
We take turns being on cooler duty. Meg and Trix and I share the responsibility of making sure everyone’s beverages are full and hands are never empty. The boys take turns wake boarding. None of them have lost their skill and nearly all still as good as they were in high school. Meg is great too. She can jump the wake and do spins.
Once upon a time I was able to wake board with the best of them. It’s been years and while I’m sure I wouldn’t totally drown, I don’t think it’s quite as easy as getting back on a bike. It’s safest I remain on cooler duty.
Seltzers are the craze this summer. Alcoholic seltzers of course with fresh light flavors that make you forget you’re drinking alcohol in the first place. They’re dangerous the way they sneak up on your blood-alcohol level. Still, they pair spectacularly with the sea and sun.
After three rounds of wake boarding each, Travis heads the boat to a small cluster of sandbars just off the beach. The largest of these sandbars is cluttered with rainbow umbrellas and mismatched beach chairs. Boats are anchored on the beach and in some cases people have set up tents for BBQ.
Champagne Island. It’s what we’ve called it since forever. Since my parents were in high school. I used to grow up hearing about how they went there when they were younger –would take the boat or the wave runners and tie up there for the day. It’s a beach away from the mass crowd of shoebees looking to ruin the relaxation vibe.
We anchor the boat about 10 feet off the beach. There are about four or five other groups everyone seems about our age. Mid-twenties. Puke.
“Nate, help me with the grill,” Travis says just as the boat engine shuts off. “And don’t get the rolls wet.”
“Try not to,” Meg says.
Trix follows Meg off the back of the boat. The water hits them just below the waist. They hold the grocery bags over their heads. Alex jumps over the side and carries the cooler above his head.
Nate takes the grill from Travis as he lowers it into the water. I sweep the boat and see the bundle of blankets and towels still sitting in the front seat. I move around the center console and into the shade.
“Finally alone.” Brooks comes up behind me. His hands cup my ass.
“Yea it’s been what, five hours?” I joke.
Everyone is on the beach now. We’re blocked from view by the consol.
“That’s long enough,” Brooks says. He sits down on the tan cushion and pulls me down into his lap.
His fingers glide down my neck and over my chest. Feeling him beneath me makes my mouth almost water. Brooks buries his lips into my hair and my neck and I just want to die.
“Brooks,” I groan.
“Ems,” he whispers against my skin.
He lies down on the cushion and again pulls me onto him. I wrap my legs on either side of him and lean my bikini against his chest. Brooks’s hands rest on my butt. I rub my fingers through his hair to push it off his forehead. I tuck a loose curl behind his ear the way he always does himself.
“I can be very quick,” Brooks says.
“Every girl’s dream.” I roll my eyes. “Come on.”
“You just want to torture me, huh?” He curses me under his breath.
“You got me.” I bite my lip.
I lean back to look at him beneath me. His eyes are so blue-green like the sea surrounding us. His dark hair almost looks black when it’s wet with seawater. I used to spend years of summers looking at him like this, but it’s different this time. This time he’s not my boyfriend. He’s not my anything.
He’s just Brooks.
“You owe me,” he says, narrowing his eyes.
“Yea yea,” I say.
I push myself off him and have to catch my balance. I’ve spent years around boats but I’m still just getting my sea legs back. Brooks’s hand grabs my wrist as I turn away from him.
“Wait,” he says.
He leans into me. I stand on my tiptoes to kiss him. I feel his hands slide around my waist and over my butt again. He squeezes and I laugh into him.
“Stop!” I squeal.
“Ugh, you’re the worst.”
“And don’t forget it,” I smirk.
Brooks follows me off the boat. The water feels nice against my sticky skin. I wade through the small waves until I reach the beach. Our day camp has already been set up. There’s horseshoes and corn-hole and a rogue Frisbee on the ground. Travis has already lit the grill for dogs and burgers. Meg distributes more drinks and Trix sets up chairs and towels.
“Oh hey,” Meg says when I walk up.
“Thought you got lost,” Trix smirks.
“We can’t leave you two alone for a damn second,” Travis says.
“Just double checking we didn’t leave anything on the boat,” Brooks grins.
“Funny.” I roll my eyes. My mind is already back on the boat, back to straddling Brooks as the water rocks us back and forth.
It’s been a hot minute since I’ve been to this sandbar. In fact, I vividly remember the last time I stepped foot on these champagne shores.
The week of graduation.
Brooks and I had just fought over something stupid. I didn’t realize it then but it was probably the fight to start all fights. I’m not sure we ever stopped arguing after it. We had made plans for dinner but he wanted to go to a friend’s graduation party. The fight started not because he wanted to go but because he didn’t ask me to go with him.
Lord. I was a fucking nut. The things you can see in hindsight. He steps up next to me now and his fingers lightly touch mine. I wonder if he is thinking what I am.
Probably not.
He’s a boy after all.
“I remember, you know.” He says it after a minute of standing there. Shit.
“Me too. Wish I didn’t,” I sigh.
“We should make a better memory for this place,” he says matter-of-factly.
I watch him sideways and he smirks at me. He’s both the same and not the same and it drives me wild. It drives me hungry. I can’t help but laugh.
“After you,” I nod.
We play Alex and his flavor Katie in horseshoes. She’s pretty shit but I’m not so bad. In fact, I’m surprisingly good. After three matches and three more drinks I decide I really like Katie. She’s easy enough to get along with without knowing her too much. I imagine that’s what Alex likes about her too. Then again, Alex gets along with anyone. He’s just that type of person.
Then we swap. Alex and I play Brooks and Katie. Then Meg and Nate. We get a whole bracket going. It feels almost normal. And you know what they say about almost. It actually counts in this game.
Travis and Nate fire up the charcoal grill. There’s something about grilling
on the beach that’s so summer. Summer to a T. Trix plates a bunch of hotdog rolls and opens ketchup and mustard and green relish that’s oddly neon. It smells like summer, in a nostalgic very non-vegan friendly kind of way.
Brooks sits down on the towel next to me holding two hotdogs. I roll my eyes but take the one he holds out to me. I almost squeal and look at him in shock when I see the hotdog.
“How?”
“Like I could forget something so weird,” he says defensively, rolling his eyes.
I look down at the slightly charred hotdog and smile. Ketchup runs down one side to the middle where it abruptly stops and meets Mustard. Half and half, but not mixed. Just the way I take my hotdog. Took my hotdogs.
“What’s wrong?” Brooks says, looking at me holding my hotdog. His is still in his hands. “Is it wrong?”
“No,” I say, biting my lip to stop from smiling. “It’s just that, well I’m a vegan now.”
“Even for the night?” He asks, creasing his eyebrows.
I nod.
“Fine.” He exhales a heavy sigh and takes the hotdog from my hands. His skin brushes against mine and I almost can’t wait until we’re alone later. I want to be alone now. “I’ll eat this weird halfy dog.”
“Thank you,” I smile.
It’s golden hour, baby. Golden. Hour. The sun is starting to set and the waves are glimmering with light. It’s high tide now; the boat bobs almost 30 feet offshore. The air smells like salt. Travis and Trix are battling Meg and Nate at horseshoes. Brooks and I are sitting on the afghan next to the grill. The water is close to our toes now.
Alex has the guitar out again. I can hear Violent Femmes’ Blister in the Sun from across the sand.
Brooks’s arm is around my shoulder and he’s leaning into my neck. “Hey.”
“Hey back,” I say.
“You know what we should do?” Brooks slides his free hand up my thigh.
“Brooks!” I laugh, swatting his hand away.
“Come on. What’s wrong?” He asks. His lips brush against my ears. God, it feels good.
“You can’t be serious? There are people here!” I point out.
“There were people last night, too. Didn’t stop us,” Brooks says, shrugging. His hand is back on my leg, inching up.
I glance sideways at the makeshift game zone. I can’t even see the horseshoes. Between the grill and the umbrella and stacked coolers, no one can even see us let alone hear us.
“We can’t.” I moan as Brooks kisses my neck again.
“Let’s go for a swim,” he says. His is around my back now, on my waist. His eyes are so alive, so reflecting the golden hour light right now.
“What?” I blink too fast.
“A swim. To the boat. Let’s go,” Brooks says, standing. He holds a hand out to me. I look at him like he’s crazy, because well.
“You just ate like three hotdogs,” I say. “Isn’t there a statute of limitations or something?
“On eating hotdogs?” He laughs. “Come on.”
“Fine,” I say, standing up. I brush the sand off my calves, but not sure why I’m bothering. I’ll have to swim all the way out to the boat.
We fight the waves and before I know it I am waist-deep in the water. I flip my hair into a bun so it won’t get even saltier. Brooks pulls me to him and lifts me up under the water. I wrap my legs around his waist and I’m reminded of playing Chicken –of hanging on his muscly arms –of being hopelessly pathetic.
“Feeling queasy yet?” I smirk.
“Little lightheaded. If I drown, will you save me?” Brooks asks, kissing my nose.
“No. Alex is the lifeguard,” I tease.
“Will you at least do CPR?” He asks.
“Ha-ha.”
I can’t help but roll my eyes at him. His hands are still on my waist under water, keeping my front pressed against his.
“You know,” Brooks says, eyes flashing. “The boat looks awfully empty over there.”
I turn my head to the boat that’s 10 feet behind us. It’s a dark silhouette against the sunset sky, bobbing up and down, back and forth.
“We should change that,” I say, before I can stop myself. I’m already getting excited. I can feel him getting excited too.
Brooks throws his head back to laugh at me and drops me from his waist. I follow him to the back of the boat –to the ladder in the water. It’s so deep I can’t stand anymore. The boat is almost parallel to the beach now.
Brooks helps me up around the engine and over the back of the boat. As soon as we stand up Brooks has his arms around me again, pulling me along with him to the front of the boat. He sits on the same cushion from earlier and positions me on top of him.
“Brooks, this is so obvious,” I whine.
“Who cares. No one is looking.” Brooks says, beginning to untie my top.
“Brooks,” I groan.
He sighs but moves me off his lap and onto the seat next to him. Brooks lies down on the floor in the space between the front bucket seats. His back is flat against the floor, but his knees are bent up. I climb onto his lap and lean back against his legs. His fingers are back to undoing the strings on my bikini top. It falls to the side and Brooks’s hands stay on my waist.
“Hell of a view.” Brooks smirks.
“You’re welcome.” I lean in to kiss him.
He unties his trunks and slides them down just enough. Thank god I wore tie-side bikini bottoms. Brooks laughs at my enthusiasm as I toss my bottoms aside and lower myself onto him. His eyes close when I start to move. The natural rock of the boat helps set our rhythm. My palms are flat against his chest to steady myself. I find I’m not all that mad with the view either. Brooks are his wild hair, eyes closed, biting his lip.
I lay flat against him, still paranoid we can somehow be seen from the sandbar even though I know it’s impossible. My hands push against the side of the boat above his head to press myself onto him. He moves one hand from my butt and pushes it towards my front. I tense at his touch but like always it’s perfect. It’s just in time. Like he reads my clit’s mind or something.
I bring my palm to my mouth to bite it. Anything to stop from screaming. Brooks's breaths quicken and then his nails dig deep into my skin. My head hangs above his, my bun loose and almost undone. Brooks’s stupid grin is spread across his face. I plant one small peck on his lips before sitting back on the floor next to him.
“Yours,” Brooks says, tossing me my bottoms. “And yours.”
I take my bottoms and top from him, redressing quicker than I would have thought possible. All he does is slide his swimsuit back up into place. Men have it so easy.
“Let’s get back in the water,” I say. My eyes dart to the beach where I still see everyone accounted for.
“Relax. No one even noticed we were gone.” Brooks rolls his eyes, jumping into the water after me. It’s even deeper now. My feet didn’t even touch the bottom when I jumped.
“I am relaxed,” I shrug.
It feels warm to be back in the water again. I didn’t realize how cool the air had gotten. Weird how water feels warmer once you were out and then get back in.
Then again, lots of things are better when you go back for seconds.
The boat ride back at dusk gives me the feels. The salty spray of the ocean raining over the sides of the boats. I can feel it on my skin. I can feel in on Brooks’s arms as they’re wrapped around me. It’s almost cold now. I pull my striped sweater up to my lips. #nauticalAF
It hurts a little in this moment. Looking at the last few weeks and my old friends and our new memories. I realize I’m already losing them. And I’m not ready to.
I just keep thinking how summer is almost over, how it’s fading away. How I’m not leaving here with everything I came with.
I better add Dashboard Confessional’s Stolen to my soundtrack.
Tide & Thunder
Today’s the day. My return flight. Back to Seattle *reality*.
I can’t believe it’s be
en two weeks already. But, I’ve put in the appropriate amount of face time so mom and dad are happy. My friends don’t think I’m dead anymore so they’re happy. And me? I’m happy.
Yup, cancelled my flight.
I know.
Decided to stay one more week until the day after Labor Day. After all, wouldn’t really be fair to Cape May if I left before summer really ended.
