by Holly Hood
“I didn’t realize you startled so easily.” He sucked at his bottom lip, his tongue running the length of it. He surveyed his fingers for blood. “You have a mean right hook.”
My cheeks burned with an intense fire. “I thought you were a seagull.” What I meant to say was sorry, but that was the only sensible thing that came out. Dare I tell him my fear of the ocean?
I pulled his hand from his mouth, surveying his lips, maybe a little too close. “You’re not bleeding.”
“No, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.” He smirked, staring at the water.
“You here alone,” he asked.
I shook my head. “I came with my friend, Karsen.” She was somewhere in the shark-infested waters taunting the sharks with her tatas. “You?”
“That would be a yes. My brothers decided on other activities today. I’ve always been one for sun and sand.” He crossed his legs, lying back on his elbows.
“Those were your brothers?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“Where did you guys come from?” I couldn’t begin to guess where he came from.
“All over, we can never stay in one place for too long.” He eyed me. I nodded. “You’re not going to ask me if I am a criminal or why on earth anyone would want to be a nomad.”
“No. I think it sounds better than one place your whole life.” I told him.
“Well, I am not a criminal just so you know. I like to travel. My brothers like to travel, and it’s a whole lot of fun,” he assured me.
He didn’t look like a criminal. He looked like an exquisite specimen of a man. I looked away from the fine hairs on his chest. A body that wasn’t anything to sneeze at, long and sleek, taught, muscular, tan. I jumped, shocked I was wasting so much energy on his physical appearance.
“I like your bathing suit,” Hutch said, pulling his eyes from my bikini. I touched the material, my cheeks warming again. “The color suits you.”
I smiled. My turquoise suit was new and a color I never wore. It was nice to know he thought it was fitting.
“Have you eaten?” He asked, a smirk spreading across his face. He could sense how flustered I was I was sure of it. “There’s a cute little diner at the end of the main boardwalk. Would your friend mind if you took off for a bit?”
I shook my head lost in a trance, his eyes pinned to mine. I accepted his hand and headed down the beach with him.
“So you’re from Georgia, that’s one of my favorite travel destinations.” Hutch told me. We sat at the Shore diner. He worked on a double cheeseburger, while I ate chicken tenders and French fries. Something simple enough that I didn’t look like a fool eating in front of him, I trailed a fry through a glob of ketchup and nodded. I didn’t have anything to add about Georgia; anymore it was a place of old memories. Memories I didn’t want to think about.
“How’d you end up in California,” Hutch cut in.
I bit my lip. “It’s nothing I want to talk about. I came with my dad and brothers.” I looked away from his eyes.
“I get that. So let’s talk about something else.” He took a sip of his coke. “What do you and your friends do for fun?”
And boyfriend, I had a boyfriend—well kind of.
“Bonfires. Concerts on occasion, but since I’ve been home there hasn’t been much of that.” I shrugged. “I was away at CSU for school. I'm here for a break."”
Hutch nodded understanding. “A college girl.”
“Yep.”
“So you like tattoos?” He asked, referring to my black heart. He placed his fingertips on my wrist. My heart quickened at his touch. I looked into his eyes, the words once again failing to come out. “Your boyfriend has a bunch.”
“I guess I don’t care either way,” I said, and I was being honest I really didn’t. He removed his hand from my wrist.
“Okay, so why the black heart?”
I shifted in my seat. I wasn’t sure what to say about this heart on my wrist. The one that would forever make me think of Slade. It was so much more than a tattoo. He would never understand what it was or what it meant.
“Oh, you know a stupid decision after high school.” I pointed at him. “What about you, any tattoos,” I scanned over his bare torso, my eyes gravitating to his tone chest.
“It’s a secret, and well hidden.” He raised an eyebrow and laughed at his joke, his eyes growing warm and sparkling. His teeth showing, he dropped his elbows to the table and whispered, “Do you want to have a look?”
My eyes darted away from him. He was only wearing swim trunks. I couldn’t begin to imagine where it would be. Suddenly, he was laughing again; he hooked a finger under my chin lifting my head so my eyes met back up with his. “Just a joke, I don’t have any tattoos.”
I smiled, amused with his cute flirtation. His fingers lingered for several moments before we parted ways and went back to our meals. A silence settled over the table. I worked on my French fries. Wondering what this tension was. He was easy to talk to. He wanted to know about me.
I looked up, catching his stare, his blue eyes searching mine for the meaning behind my silence. But, instead of saying anything he shot me a smile and lifted the bill from the table and slipped out of the booth to pay for it.
I watched, with a swarm of anxiety in the pit of my stomach. He waited at the counter, twisting the ring on his finger. The waitress took the bill and gave a smile. Even she was easily enamored by him. She offered him his change, but he refused it.
I smiled when he returned. He took a seat beside me in the booth this time. Our bodies touching, the chill from the air conditioner was apparent on his skin, he offered me his wallet. I stared at him confused.
“From my trip to the mountains in Colorado, I keep a picture in my wallet.” He looked the image over with me. There he stood clothed in a thick black jacket and goggles. A black hat covering his hair, his cheeks warm and red, a crooked smile on his face, one hand waving at the camera, the other clutching a walking stick, he leaned in, his breath hitting me in the ear at the close proximity. He ran a finger over the photograph grazing my thumb.
“It was fun that’s for sure.” He took his wallet. “So tell me, are you adventurous?”
I swallowed. “Not as much as you.”
Why was Hutch affecting me? There was this pull, this energy all around him. And no dark baggage. He was the opposite of Slade in every way.
I reminded myself of the girl I was. The girl he could never know about. The girl I wasn’t sure I could be.
Strangeland
“Karsen call me. I don’t know where you are, but you’re supposed to be here.” I shoved my phone in my pocket and took a seat at the counter of the malt shop at the shore theatre. We had a date to meet for milkshakes, and a cheesy horror flick. However, she was late, and I didn’t see her anywhere.
“Could I get a vanilla milkshake?” I asked the pimpled face teen behind the counter. He smiled and nodded pulling one of those shiny metal cups from under the counter.
My phone chirped. I pulled it from my pocket and hit the call button. “You are a dirty bitch,” I said in our customary greeting whenever one of us screwed-up big time.
“I totally forgot. I am so sorry,” Karsen moaned into the phone like a babbling idiot. She giggled.
“Doesn’t sound sincere enough for me,” I told her.
“We got caught up, I am getting my nails painted and there is this man who Audrey says gives the best massages in Cherry. You should see this place,” Karsen crooned. Singing praises for whatever spa she was sitting at. It was hard to say which one she was in seeing there was one on every corner of Cherry.
I gritted my teeth. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “You’re kidding me, Karsen. You’re hanging out with Audrey.”
“And Erica,” Erica said in the background in a sing-song voice, another burst of laughter rang out over the phone.
“So, I was thinking we should reschedule. Erica said Slade was free. I'm sure he would love to see a m
ovie with you. It’s been two days since you talked to him,” she offered.
I gave the young kid a smile accepting my milk shake. I slid five dollars across the counter and waved my hand at the change. I took a big swig, standing, balancing the phone against my ear with my shoulder as I marched out of the theatre, livid.
I shoved into the push bar on the door and released myself into the humid air near the water. “That’s okay. I’m sure soon you will be hanging out with him too.”
Karsen sighed. “Don’t be like that, Hope.”
“Who me? Its seems anymore everyone else is the issue.” I held back the tears. It felt like betrayal of the worst kind. Karsen was hanging with the enemy. Karsen was my friend and now she was being sucked to the dark side—the really dark side.
I started down the boardwalk away from the theatre, bumping into random walkers on the way to who knew where. I didn’t want to go home. I didn’t know what I wanted.
“You know, don’t worry about it. It’s fine, I hope you have a great time. We can plan for another night.” I smiled into the phone, lying my ass off didn’t come easy when it came to Karsen, but Karsen’s attention span was short, so I knew it would suffice so she could be on to the next thing.
I bit my tongue when I heard Audrey's giggle again, and I bit it even harder when Karsen stifled a giggle of her own long enough to say good-bye to me. I sighed, slipping my phone back into my pocket and started for the water.
I sipped on my shake, walking at a slow pace, the water mesmerizing as the waves lapped the shore. My feet crunching over shells scattered over the sand. I dropped down in the sand sitting Indian style. Staring at the moon I looked at so many times throughout my life, back when I felt happy and believed there was a loving universe filled with so many promises for me. I wasn’t sure I felt that way anymore.
I drew my legs close and rested my shake on the sand in front of me. Sanding my hands together I studied the cup. I wanted proof this magic wasn’t all bad. I stared unblinking, willing the cup to rise. It trembled. I imagined the cup rising and to my surprise, it did. It was only a few inches, but it was something. I concentrated harder until it was above my head. I giggled, clapping my hands. It swayed back and forth with every clap. I furrowed my brow, guiding it with my finger, it danced and spun like a glorious creature. It was magic, and I was doing it.
I waved my hand, wider this time like a composer of some glorious musical. This was fun. I stood, my eyes on the cup, I dusted the sand from my shorts. The waves crashed, aggravating my other senses, but nothing could take away the magic. I moved closer to the water guiding the cup along. Just when it was over the water, I told myself I would try something bolder. I closed my eyes, my heart crashing in my chest.
“Fire,” I whispered. I closed my eyes, dropping my head. My hand still suspended my finger outstretched willing the cup to hover and go up in flames. I opened my eyes and squealed with joy. An orange flame ignited. I guided the cup, turning on my heels. I froze in terror when I laid eyes on Hutch. He started toward me. I wasn’t sure, how long he was watching, but now he was coming my way.
The cup hissed and floated away in the water. But, that couldn’t get rid of my mortification that he saw me do something no human being could explain.
“On the beach all alone,” he said, he dropped his hands deep into the pockets of his shorts and rocked back on his heels a mischievous grin gracing his lips. He looked from me to the water never letting me figure out if he was on to me.
“How long have you been standing there?” I asked, ignoring his comment.
“Not long, but long enough to see it was you. I was out for a walk, never expected to run into you here.” He cocked his head to one side, studying my stark white expression.
“Oh.” Oh was right. I didn’t know what the next step was. Did I run for the hills, did I beg him not to tell anyone? Or maybe I came right out and asked him if he saw me levitate a milkshake and set it on fire. I decided all options were not acceptable. He seemed smart enough, if he was, he would blow it off. He would tell his brain there was no possible way and leave it at that.
“Actually, I was meeting a friend for a movie and fattening dairy, but something came up.” I sighed, sitting down in the sand again.
The wind picked up crawling through my hair. Hutch took the spot next to me on the desolate beach. “You know, if they found us out here right now we might get arrested.”
I smirked at him. “Not in California, maybe other states, but California is like a 24-7 beach party.”
Hutch nodded. “I suppose your right. The thought of it sounded a bit exciting though, a cell, the steel bars, begging for our freedom.”
I laughed at his exaggeration. “Clearly it wouldn’t be that much fun.”
“I wouldn’t know, not a criminal like I told you the other day when you accused me,” he said, his eyebrows lifted, he watched my expression. He was teasing me, and it was hilarious to him. His eyes glistened with amusement. He lost it, dropping back in the sand and busted a gut.
I turned to get a better look at him. His perfect teeth gleaming against the moonlight as he laughed at me, he was filled with energy, and I wasn’t. I envied him.
“I am amazed. I didn’t realize you were your own biggest fan.” I shook my head in disbelief. He sat up, the laughter fading fast.
“You’re so easy,” he said, he corrected himself. “Easy to poke at.”
“I will have you know I am not easy, and I wouldn’t let you poke me with anything.” I teased, flashing him a big smile.
“Is that so? I believe I poked you with my finger already. And I quite easily slipped my arm around you a few minutes ago. And I sat next to you in the booth, and I now know your skin is unbelievably soft.” He smirked.
I was astonished.
“And" he looked between us to where his hand was resting on my thigh. “If you look down, you will see my hand found a resting place without you even batting an eyelash.”
My eyes widened in shock, he had his hands all over me, and I didn’t even realize—well maybe not all over me, but he was proving to be more talented by the minute.
“I hadn’t even realized. Maybe I should call the police, Mr. Touchy feely.”
“Maybe, or perhaps you’re just comfortable with me.” He shrugged, staring at his hand. He took my wrist, studying the heart again. His expression growing serious and everything fell quiet.
“Why are you always staring at my tattoo?” I asked. He looked up, drawing in his bottom lip. I raised an eyebrow, he wanted to say something.
“I saw this somewhere before. I can’t remember where exactly, but I saw it before.”
“It’s just a heart.” I told him, pulling my arm away. “A stupid heart.”
He leaned to the side and pulled out his cell phone. His fingers grazed the display, back and forth over and over until he said, “Here.”
He shoved the phone at me. I stared at the screen, my stomach sick at the words glowing back at me.
This heart found in books of black magic dated as far back as fifteen hundred years, I read. Our eyes connected, I looked away panicked. I jumped up.
“I have to go,” I said, hurrying across the sand. The wind howled in my ears as I hurried to get away from Hutch and his accusing eyes. I felt like a criminal.
“Hope, I get it. It’s a stupid tattoo. You don’t have to leave.” He shouted after me. I ignored him, unable to believe him. If he knew the truth, he wouldn’t be so quick to say such a thing.
Avoidance
I jiggled the key in the knob, grumbling, I strained to unlock the door, so I could slip inside and crawl under my covers for the rest of the night. I grunted, shouldering the door and at last, the wood gave way and let me inside.
I dropped my keys on the counter, they rattled and silenced as they settled.
I flicked on the kitchen light half expecting to be greeted by Crawford. His slug like stroll whenever he came to greet me ran through my thoughts. I sighed, a lon
e tear slipping from my eye. I wiped it away, and a steady stream of them came after.
I missed my dog.
He wasn’t judging of me. I didn’t have to hide anything from Crawford. I didn’t have to worry whether Crawford liked me or not. And I sure didn’t have to worry about him finding a new owner. He loved me unconditionally. He would never choose anyone else over me.
That was the difference between humans and animals. Animals got it. Humans pretended they did until something else suited them better. Humans were selfish.
I headed down the hallway, stopping first at Elliot and Easton’s door. I threw it open hoping to see someone familiar. The room, scattered with bags of chips, pop cans and dirty clothes, was deserted. I turned my nose up at the stale smell—they really needed to learn how to air out their bedroom.
Next was Dads, I knocked before entering. But he too was nowhere to be found, my feet clicked across his floor. I took a seat on his bed. I grimaced at the picture of Lynette in a dark oak frame beside his bed. This ended my tour of Dad’s room. I peered into the wastebasket—his usual spot for hiding his whiskey bottles, there was nothing but discarded mail.
I pulled his door shut behind me and opened my own door. I shook my hair free of the barrette and set it down. I opened my closet and pulled out some sweat pants, slipping out of my shorts.
I hit the button on my iPod and sung along to the music as I ran my brush through my hair. Gotye-somebody I used to know, oh how it soothed my hurt pride to sing something so true to the heart.
I replaced the brush and wiggled into my sweat pants. Now it was time to sleep, to forget all the events of the day and just tune the world out. I set my phone to silent and tossed it on my nightstand, sinking into my bed and my fluffy comforter. Just as my head settled into my pillow a rattle coming from my window set me upright. I cursed to myself at the sight of Slade working his way through my window.
