From the Blue

by Mark Stephens

  As if he could sense her unease, the young man that sat next to her reached over and placed his hand on top of hers. Gentle, but firm, he stilled her nervous fingers. The warmth and tenderness of his touch sapped away the anguish she felt over her own stilted childhood.

  For several long moments, the pair sat there in quiet, only interrupted by the subtle wash of the surf. Dylan waited for the obligatory, sympathetic platitudes that she was sure would follow or worse, to find out that her tale would chase him away. Instead, Jaron only said, “It seems to me that you already have a definition of family. It might not be like mine or anyone else’s, but from what I have seen, surface people have many different kinds of family. Not all of them good.”

  After a pause, Jaron pensively looked out into the sea. “Our past and family define part of who we are, but not the whole of who we have to be.”

  “What?” Dylan asked.

  “It’s something my father told me once. I think he meant that family is a part of our whole, but not the whole itself. The things we do change us, but only as much as you allow it. I think his words fit you.”

  “No. I mean, what you said. Surface people?”

  “Oh, my apologies, that’s our slang for people who live on the mainland.” Jaron’s voice hesitated and sounded cautious to Dylan. It had lost some of its luster, but only for a moment. It was a plausible explanation, a colloquialism although a weird one, and she didn’t know him well enough to think otherwise, so she just dismissed it.

  “How did you get to be so wise?” she asked him, turning her hand so that their fingers intertwined.

  “Hereditary, I guess.” He laughed softly, squeezing her hand just as tenderly. “My father always seems to have an anecdote or saying for every occasion. It must’ve rubbed off on me.”

  The laughter died away, leaving quiet in its wake, but Dylan didn’t mind. It was a romantic night and she was here, with this guy who seemed to be everything that anyone could ever want in a guy. He was good-looking, smart, wise and flawed. And he was here with her.

  Somewhere, in the back of her mind, a tiny voice whispered something about too good to be true. She didn’t listen to it.

  “I’d love to meet him someday.”

  “One never knows what the future brings.” He said cryptically.

  Their conversation turned to lighter subjects. Green was his favorite color. His mother made these sweet confections called puffs, made with chocolate and mint. She admitted that she was a closet country music fan and he made her promise not to tell anyone that he didn’t understand hip hop or rap. Her favorite car was a Mustang and he loved going to the zoo, something they didn’t have in his country.

  As they talked, Dylan realized that she really liked this guy. Not in the momentary bout of lust kind of way, which was probably where that weird feeling had come from, but genuinely interested in who he was and where he came from. There was something here between the two of them. She didn’t know what it was, but she knew she wanted to find out. She looked back up at him, still grasping onto his hand, liking the feel of their united fingers.

  The night was late when she asked him for details about his home.

  “The island we live on isn’t very large and, although we aren’t a poor country, many of us have chosen simple lifestyles. A lot of the countryside are dotted with farms and homes, simple structures inhabited by farmers and miners. My family and I live in the king’s residence, which resembles the European castles of old. It is the highest building and built into the side of our tallest mountain. Tall ramparts and parapets adorn the edges and reach up into the heavens. If the clouds are heavy with rain, sometimes they are close enough to the parapets that you can almost touch them. From the grand balcony, you can see down into the capital city and its many residents or see the thick trees of the King’s Woods and pastures or even look out into the vastness of the sea beyond. It is quite a majestic sight to behold.”

  The picture he painted was so detailed and complete that she could almost see it. Every word was flavored with wonder and majesty that it made her want to see it for herself.

  A lazy yawn hitched in her throat until she couldn’t resist it any longer and it came roaring out of her.

  “Damn. Sorry. I must be more tired than I thought.” She looked over at him sheepishly, the last of the alcohol making her think of them spending the night together out here on the beach. Her salacious thoughts weren’t entirely unwelcome, even if they were out of character.

  For another hour, the two of them talked, laying on their backs and staring up at the moon and stars. A few more yawns escaped Dylan’s mouth during their conversation until her eyelids felt like there were weights attached to them. Without even thinking about it, she closed her eyes and cuddled up next to Jaron with her head on his chest. For a brief moment before she dozed off, she thought he might rebuff her or make the moves on her.

  Instead, she felt his arm wrap around her. She placed her hand on his chest and felt his lungs fill and empty themselves with air. The rhythmic beat of his heart sounded like a lullaby to her and it didn’t take long until she was fast asleep.

  Chapter 9 – The Next Morning

  The morning after the beach party was almost always as entertaining as the party itself. After waking up, kids began leaving to go home, stricken with hangovers and hoping their parents had already left for work. More than a few would be roaming around, trying to find the items that they had left somewhere and couldn’t remember where. Others woke up next to people in compromising positions, people that sometimes they were happy to be next to and sometimes not, usually not remembering what exactly had happened.

  Dylan slipped into consciousness as the pale yellow of the sun began its ascent into the sky. The horizon and her thoughts were covered in a haze and she may’ve thought she was still dreaming, except for the dull ache behind her temples. It pulsed and throbbed lowly like the morning tide, forcing her into the waking world.

  Grudgingly, she opened her eyes, not really ready to face the day, but knowing she had no choice. Unlike some of her classmates, she hadn’t completely forgotten the previous night, although some of it was still cloaked in the fuzzy gauze of sleep. The world was coming back into focus as were her memories, just very reluctantly and slowly.

  The Atlantic breeze had swept in with the rising sun, splashing a mist of saltwater on her face as the surf rolled and crashed on the sand. Gulls were hopping around bravely, avoiding the incoming waves and looking for scraps of food. Their heads twisted around jerkily, wary of any conscious people that may be lurking near them.

  Beneath her, the uneven surface of the sand was covered with the soft cotton of the beach towel she had brought with her. Her first coherent thought was what a wonderful dream she’d had, but her foggy, dreamy images coalesced into actual pictures as her sleep retreated even further.

  Her eyes widened as her awareness sharpened. She realized that there was an arm draped over her midsection and a body pressed up against her back. Her nerves tingled and flared to life suddenly as she felt warm skin against her own. The light hair on the legs behind her tickled her smooth shaven legs. The chest behind her rose and fell as it breathed evenly, coming into contact with her back and then withdrawing. Touching. Not touching. In a sort of rhythmic pleasure. Hot breath brushed against her neck like a feather. Without looking, the rest of her memory flooded back to her through the lingering vestiges of sleep.

  The tiny sliver of her mind where her good sense lived was shocked that she’d fallen asleep and left herself so vulnerable. It railed at her, warning her that anything could have happened especially with someone so unknown, but as she lay there, that voice dwindled to a soft murmur.

  No danger existed in his embrace. No harm or threat, she knew this. In fact, quite the opposite was true. Here, in his arms, she couldn’t have been safer. Something just seemed so right, so natural about Jaron’s arm wrapped around her. The earth could have crumbled away around her, the seas boiled away from an
exploding sun and she would remain untouched by them.

  Yet, at the same time, she was Dylan Roberts, a strong, fierce, independent woman who refused to be governed by her emotions. This giddy school girl with a crush act wasn’t her. Whatever her heart felt would stay locked away, at least for the time being. It didn’t matter that, for the first time in her life, she felt a part of something greater than just herself. What mattered was that she had known Jaron for less than a day. Despite what her heart was whispering to her in her ear, she wasn’t going to give in to any guy that easily.

  The young woman lay there, torn between her mind and her heart. She wanted to sneak away into the morning, but she didn’t want to leave his arms. The tug of war continued until her mind finally won over.

  As carefully as she could, Dylan lifted the strong arm that grasped her waist. She pulled it up and away from her, giving her room to wriggle out of his grasp. She sat up and scooted from the warm body, scrunching up the beach towel under her, until a voice behind her spoke. She froze at the sound, afraid that if she turned around, Jaron would see the conflict of emotion and logic on her face.

  “Good morning.” Jaron’s voice gave off hints of still being half asleep. Her instinct was to turn and face him, smile sweetly, perhaps even collapse back into his arms.

  She didn’t. She only muttered, “Hey.”

  Dylan felt the rustle of movement behind her, but kept her eyes on the white-capped surf. She heard a deep yawn and saw the outline of one of Jaron’s arms in her periphery as he stretched the morning stiffness out of his limbs. Finished, he lowered his hand and gently traced a line down the skin of her arm. She felt a sudden chill along the touch and shivered despite the morning heat. Her captured heart stirred at that barest touch.

  “You okay?” he asked from behind her, confusion, doubt and concern tracing a path across her consciousness much as his fingers played gently along her skin.

  His words were like a spear, driving into her resistance. She nodded her head and turned to look at him over her shoulder. His bright smile greeted her and his uncomplicated face beamed at her with such a radiance that she found it difficult to push down those feelings that she had been struggling with. She needed to look away, but Alex’s words echoed in her mind and she listened to them.

  “I’m good. Just overly sensitive in the mornings.” She kept her answer short and to the point, fearful of revealing too much in it.

  Jaron scooted closer to her and she could feel the cool aura of his form tingle the hairs on her body. With slow hesitancy, he nudged his face closer to hers to see if she would respond. And some things even she had little control over. Her heart surged. Her emotions overrode her hesitant thoughts. Her face met his halfway and their lips joined together for the first time. Giving in to her heart definitely had its advantages.

  His lips were cool, soft and oddly salty, yet sweeter than anything she had ever tasted. She closed her eyes. Her skin tingled. Her brain exploded with immeasurable pleasure. Her hand rested gently on his muscular chest, rising and falling quickly with his arousal. His breath was hot against her cheeks as the chaste show of affection became more passionate.

  Dylan could feel herself getting swept up by the undertow of her own tide of emotions. She was surrendering to the rush and knew that she mustn’t, although the impulse, like a weed, was quite difficult to stamp out once it had taken root.

  Before it became too powerful to stop, she pulled away from him, his lips still puckered. He blinked his eyes open, confused as to the brevity and interruption of the kiss. She immediately knew what he was thinking by the expression that crossed his features.

  “Sorry, it’s not you. You kiss great. I mean, like, really great. It’s just that I usually don’t move that fast. With guys. We haven’t even been on a date.” She stuttered a little, slightly embarrassed by the kiss and slightly embarrassed that she’d stopped. She didn’t want to appear too easy to get, but it was difficult to resist the impulse to kiss him again.

  He straightened up after her admission and Dylan thought for sure that he was going to leave, angry at her. But instead, he moved his hand down from her forearm where it had stopped and folded them over her fingers. His other hand swept up and secured another stray piece of hair back behind her ear.

  “Then I guess we’ll do this the right way. Dylan, would you like to go out with me? On a date?” He said very formally. The playful glimmer in his eyes became ridden with angst and anxiety while he gazed at her patiently for her answer. No guy had ever been so proper in asking her on a date.

  “Yes, of course I would. I think I would enjoy spending more time with you.” Relief shone in his eyes, the nervous lines smoothing into a smile. Dylan wondered if he had actually doubted what her response was going to be. She didn’t have time to wonder as he quickly leaned closer and kissed her reddening cheek innocently. In a sudden lurch of movement, he sprang to his feet and held his hands out to pull her up.

  For a brief instant, their bodies collided as Jaron’s strong hands steadied her. Dylan looked up apologetically for her clumsiness and their eyes met yet again, but she felt no sensation of falling into them as she did before. And she knew it was because she had already fallen as far as she could go. She wasn’t going to admit it though. She smiled at him, hyper aware of his hands on his waist and how she felt about it.

  No sense giving away the milk AND the cow.

  She gently pushed his hands away, smiling and nodding in appreciation at the save. She picked up the towel and tied it around her waist tightly. Sliding her hand into his, they started walking slowly back towards the pier and the remnants of the party.

  Their conversation as they crossed the dunes was mundane and trivial, or easy and breezy as her friends liked to say. He asked her what her favorite color was (blue), her favorite flower (lilacs), her favorite school subjects (English and History). At the same time, she peppered him with details concerning his homeland, his family and any other miniscule fact that came to her mind.

  It didn’t take long for Dylan to start seeing leftovers of the night before. A few tents had been pitched into the sand. Sleeping bodies were scattered over the landscape like the injured on a battlefield, a few moaning, but mostly lifeless. Beer cans, red Solo cups and paper were being picked at by the bravest of gulls while another squadron hovered above them, jealous, but still too timid to land.

  All around, both of them saw the blackened corpses of smaller campfires that had burnt themselves out at some point. And, looming before them, the crumpled skeleton of the bonfire rose up into the air, although it had collapsed in upon itself at some point. Its charred ruins still smoked a thin gray wisp that was quickly borne away on the morning wind.

  By the time they had reached their outpost, she could see the snoring forms of Jordan and Johnny, gangly limbs sprawled everywhere. Carrie and Derrick were spooning next to each other, while Jaime was curled up in a fetal position, her chest rising and falling slow and steady. Sitting up on the edge of the blankets, the eternal insomniac, Alex, was the only one awake and saw the pair as they neared, holding hands and laughing quietly like they were old friends. Her eyes widened and jaw dropped as she realized who it was.

  “Jaron. You remember Alex?” she re-introduced them as they came to a stop near the umbrellas. She would have had to have been blind not to notice the look on Alex’s face. There was definitely going to be a long conversation in their future whether she wanted one or not. Alex began to scramble to her feet unsteadily and Jaron dipped down to help her up.

  “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance again, m’lady.” He bowed slightly at the waist in deference to her and she quickly mouthed the word ‘wow’ to Dylan while his eyes were averted. Jaron quickly straightened back up and Alex put on her best innocent smile and turned away from Dylan, looking him in the eyes.

  “Um, so, how did you two find each other?” Alex asked, unable to contain the anxiety in her voice.

  She desperately wanted details on thi
s unforeseen, but not unwelcome, pairing and she didn’t want to wait for a private moment to ask Dylan. After all, it was her advice that Dylan had so obviously followed.

  She had known, of course, that Dylan hadn’t slept here last night, but hadn’t really given it much thought, maybe a moment of curiosity, but that was it. Now it appeared that they had spent the night together, doing God knows what, and all she wanted to know was the what. She had pushed for Dylan to go and find him, but she had never expected her to go all dark side on her in one night.

  “I came upon Dylan as I finished my night swim.” The answer was simple, elegant and revealed nothing too private nor gave away any more detail than was necessary.

  “And you two spent the night together?” Dylan flashed a look of anger and a meddling none-of-your-business glare at her best friend, who ignored her utterly and waited for Jaron’s answer. Some things Alex just couldn’t wait for.

  “Yes, both of us slept under the stars last night as our ancestors did.” It seemed he was going to leave it open-ended without an admission or denial of any impropriety between them. Then, a look of understanding crossed his face. “Oh, you mean did we do anything of a physical nature, like sex? Then the answer changes because I would never take advantage of a young woman in that way after just meeting her. We just talked and enjoyed each other’s company.”

  The raw innocence and abruptness of the answer dumbfounded Alex’s attempt at innuendo and all she could do was look at Dylan, speechless, but impressed. Extremely pleased that Jaron had been able to shut up the normally unflappable Alex, Dylan yanked on his hand gently and pulled him away from the piles of blankets and comatose teens. When she had gotten him out of earshot of Alex and the others, she stopped and turned to face him, knowing Alex’s eyes were glued to their every movement.

  “Were you serious about taking me on an actual date?” She ignored the heat she felt on her back from Alex’s stare and focused on the young man looking into her eyes.