A Summer of Chances

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A Summer of Chances Page 7

by Roxanne Tully


  I immediately slowed my pace, in an effort to avoid another disaster, whether with him or another staff member. But as I successfully passed it and headed down the few steps onto the street, I felt a hint of disappointment that I hadn’t run into him again.

  One of my favorite things about my morning sunrise routine was the calm before the crowd hits. So I took a moment to lean over the wet wooden fence and breathe in the misty, briny air, concentrating on the sound of the ocean beating its waves onto the shore. It was a shortened version of my morning ritual, but it still put me in a place where I felt one with nature.

  But that was soon interrupted by the thunder I heard in the distance. I made it into the café just before the next downpour began. The place was air conditioned despite the cooler weather. I immediately felt the goosebumps run over my bare arms. I walked over to the self-serve coffee station and started to pour a steamy cup.

  “And here I thought I’d have to track you down.” A familiar male voice said behind me.

  I spun around. It was Chris.

  “Hi,” I said, briefly trying to remember if I’d had a chance to glance in the mirror before I ran out. It wasn’t likely.

  He smiled at me for a moment before walking around me to pour his own cup. I immediately felt silly for just standing there. I cleared my throat, reached for a lid, and stepped aside.

  “Are you heading somewhere?” he asked over his shoulder.

  “Just grabbing some coffee. We were all out, so I ran out for some.” Ugh. I hate the way I get repetitive when I’m nervous.

  “Well, my luck that you ran out of coffee,” he said with another great smile. He turned to the brunette cashier and handed her a bill.

  “Two coffees, please.”

  She looked up from her magazine and did a double take at Chris. I noticed he politely smiled back then turned to me. He motioned toward a small row of tables lined up against the large, framed wooden windows. The red-oak table and chairs fit well in the space. And the fact that each table was specifically made to fit two was a nice touch and convenient for keeping the small café clear of larger groups, I imagined. The seating was clearly intended for quick coffee and muffin for two. For someone who appreciated a quieter atmosphere, I made a note to self to come back here when I needed a quiet moment indoors with a good cup of hot coffee.

  “Let’s sit,” he said flatly.

  Suddenly, something Rick said the night before crept its way into my head just as Chris insisted we sit. He hadn’t bothered to ask me if I would like to sit with him or even stay for a few minutes. Common courtesy, I should think. I forced the thoughts out of my head, clearly reading too much into it. I needed to stop letting Rick’s opinions affect me. So what if Chris used my dad’s business tactics of eliminating the question and reducing the rate of people saying no. It worked, didn’t it?

  Since he let me lead the way, I chose to sit at the last table in the back corner. I sat with my back to the wall. He sat and faced me. His eyes were glued to me, but I could tell there was a question there.

  “Where is Rachel this morning?”

  Rachel? He was asking me about my roommate? He must have missed her tongue down his friend’s throat last night.

  “I have to thank her for dragging you out last night,” he added.

  I smiled shyly. “Sleeping. But I will give her the message.” Flirting was easy.

  “Sorry I had to run last night. Misha apparently got her drinking rules mixed up. You don’t chug two bottles of beer and then follow it with four rounds of shots.

  My stomach churned just thinking about it. Been there. “Well, lucky she had you there to get her home safely.”

  “She’s lucky she’s got John looking out for her.” He played with the tab of his coffee lid. “What about you?” He looked up at me. “Got anyone back in Colorado looking out for you?”

  “Well if I do, he’s certainly doing a terrible job,” I joked, and Chris laughed. I honestly didn’t know how to answer his question any other way. Why would I have needed someone looking out for me? Since when is having a boyfriend equivalent to an older sibling?

  “No boyfriend then.”

  “No. Not since the fall. Wasn’t a long-term thing anyway.”

  Chris smiled shyly. “Sorry, I don’t know why I asked. I guess I already assumed that you weren’t involved.”

  That was an odd thing to assume.

  “What gave me away as single and available?”

  For the first time since I’d met Chris, he looked uncertain about what he was about to say. “I was under the impression you were…running from a breakup.” He shrugged.

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “Well it’s not that you gave any implication that you were,” he said quickly. “It’s just…why else would you be here? In a city that doesn’t really have much but a beach unknown to the rest of the world and an okay summer camp. The only thing that makes sense is if you were running from something. Or trying to forget about someone by involving yourself in new surroundings.”

  I supposed I couldn’t blame him for assuming that. After all, making rash and extreme decisions like mine was the most understood psychological action following a breakup.

  “I’m not running from anything,” I said with no hesitation, hoping to get the message across. “I just needed to get away from the summer crowd in Denver.”

  He took another sip of his coffee. “Maybe you could have made yourself busy with some summer classes.”

  “There wasn’t anything else I could take until I declared a major.” Almost as soon as I’d said it, I wished I could have taken the words back. I’d forgotten who I was speaking to: the guy who probably had his major picked out when he was fourteen. But to my surprise, Chris didn’t look shocked at all. In fact, he just shrugged.

  “Oh well, that’s common for students who plan to transfer. You don’t want to have to waste requirements that wouldn’t be transferable,” he said simply, as if he’d been giving advice to his little sister. Then his head popped up. “But hey, you can always look up what’s accepted in the school you’re looking into. Where’s that?”

  Transfer? That hadn’t been an option I’d considered before. I searched for reasons why that wouldn’t work for me but couldn’t think of one.

  “Well, when I figure out what I want to do and where I plan to stay or go, I’ll let you know,” I said confidently, hoping that would conclude the topic.

  Chris looked at me, puzzled. “You don’t have a plan?”

  “Do I need one?”

  His expression turned from puzzled to pure shock. “Of course you do. Everyone needs a plan. Otherwise you’re just following a maze with no end. Unless you know where you’re going, you’ll just keep making the wrong turns.

  “Those things never come with a map, silly. Besides, maybe I’ll accidently make the right one,” I said, only half joking.

  “There’s nothing funny about walking aimlessly through a pile of hay, Amy. Even if we are metaphorically speaking.”

  Nothing funny was right. And while I was being honest with myself, this conversation was not worth finishing coffee for.

  “I suppose you’re right, Chris.” I set down my cup and didn’t bother forcing a polite smile. “Thank you for the coffee.” I stood and he immediately frowned. “I really needed one this morning.”

  “Of course.” He stood quickly. “Can I walk you to your—”

  “No, I just need to get back to Rachel. I left before she got up, and she’ll be worried.” I lied. Rachel was either still asleep or working up a sweat to her aerobics video. I bolted before he offered to drive me back. I flung my raincoat around my shoulders and slipped my arms through the sleeves as I strode through the boardwalk.

  Everything about my conversation with Chris made me feel like the biggest loser—from not having a boyfriend, to not having a declared major, and finally, to having no plans for my future.

  The refreshing, cool mist that remained after the overnight storm
was exactly what I needed. The steel-gray clouds were slowly starting to resemble my mood, and the windy walk home helped dry up any tears I had building inside me.

  CHAPTER 11

  Monday morning, I walked down the boardwalk and onto the beach. It was going to be a much drier day. The sand had already recovered from the wet weekend. I took my flip-flops off and headed down to the shore. It was still a little dark, but the sun was beginning to peek its way through.

  I settled down in a clean spot and shoved some seaweed and shells away. Sitting with my legs crossed in front of me, I scratched the soft, cream-colored sand, running my fingers through it. Then I closed my eyes, enjoying the uninterrupted sounds of the ocean. The sun hadn’t risen yet, but even through my closed eyes, I could see the orange glow through my lids.

  After a short few moments, the glow turned dark, as if an eclipse had just occurred. Knowing that was unlikely, my eyes flew open at the sudden realization that someone was standing in front of me. After a short second of adjustment, I looked up to find Rick looking down at me.

  “I thought that was you,” he said.

  “Morning. You’re blocking my view,” I said flatly.

  “What view? You had your eyes closed.”

  I scooted over on the sand. “That view.” I pointed with my head in the direction of the horizon.

  Rick looked at me for a moment before glancing at the ocean over his shoulder. He squinted his eyes at the hint of bright orange that was peeking from behind it.

  “Mind if I sit?”

  “Not at all,” I said, surprising both myself and Rick.

  He sat a few inches away from me without another word and watched for a moment. A variety of warm colors started filling the beach at that moment, but I couldn’t find a way to concentrate on them.

  Rick leaned in close to me, but kept his eyes on the horizon. “What are we looking at?” he whispered in a mock-serious tone.

  “UFOs.” I leaned in and whispered back.

  Rick burst out laughing and leaned back in the sand a little. It had to have been the first time I’d seen him laugh. Even when I’d watched him chuckle with the kids, it wasn’t anything like this. It made me smile.

  “Just watch, or you’ll miss it,” I warned.

  Rick straightened and obediently watched as the sun slowly started revealing itself. But it was me who wasn’t watching much of anything anymore. I was sure the sun was still slowly exposing itself before us. I could tell because of the blur of yellows, pinks, and reds that were blazing in the far distance and gradually brightening the misty morning.

  In that moment, the only thing that I was aware of was Rick’s presence. I suddenly seemed to be very aware of my breathing. Mostly because I wanted to make sure it didn’t sound off. Then I focused on my shoulders, wondering if they looked stiff at all. This guy was notorious for noticing things like that.

  I tried with all my might to fight off what Rick was doing to me and will myself to enjoy the natural wonders that I’d come here to immerse myself in. Instead, all I could do was pray that it ended quickly so I could get up and run. As if that wasn’t enough, Rick leaned in close to me.

  “Come here often?” he asked in his most seductive tone.

  I gave him a look, acknowledging his mocking cliché. “Not as often as I’d like. Been known to sleep in once in a while.”

  “That’s right,” he realized, holding up an index finger.

  I winced, realizing that I’d just justified yet another item on my “habit” list.

  Rick smiled and turned back to the now fully exposed sun. He stood and held out his hand to me. I took it, but not without playfully rolling my eyes, since we both knew I didn’t need help getting up. The instant he pulled me to my feet, I felt a rush of déjà vu.

  I didn’t need to search far to remember where this had happened before: when he’d saved me from my dangerously close fall into the pool after hours. I quickly pulled back my hand and bent to pick up my flip-flops. Unfortunately, I’d attempted to do it too quickly, because I fell forward, stumbling into the sand.

  Rick laughed lightly. “And we have all three.”

  I threw a handful of sand at him, irritated that now I’d proven the ‘clumsy’ part of his assessment of me. He shielded his face, still laughing.

  “Okay, okay, but hey, aren’t you happy that we’re all out?”

  “No! I have yet to prove that I’m not defensive.”

  Rick raised an eyebrow and smirked.

  I rolled my eyes and started walking up to the boardwalk. Rick was slowly striding behind me. I looked around at the beach in broad daylight, and as if on cue, people had started turning up. On the boardwalk, an elderly man in a baseball cap was walking his dog. I turned to the sound of the café’s storefront gate being rolled up. A short woman wearing a red cap was jogging along the street and stopped when she’d spotted us. When she turned, I noticed it was Sarah.

  We approached her, since it was obvious she was looking at us and waiting.

  “Morning,” she said with both eyebrows raised.

  “Morning,” I replied.

  “Good to see you two up early and starting your exercises.”

  Rick caught up behind me. “Oh, we weren’t running. We were…watching the sunrise,” he said, giving me a wide smile.

  “Huh.” Between her baseball hat and her frown from the sun’s bright rays, I couldn’t exactly tell what her look was.

  “Yeah, I know.” He rubbed my head lightly. “Who knew our Amy was nostalgic?”

  I shot him a look.

  “Well, I’m glad I caught you both. Can you two stop by my office today after you drop off your campers at swimming?”

  Rick nodded.

  “Sure thing,” I said, trying to sound cheerful. But I couldn’t help but wonder what it was about. I looked over at Rick and his bubbly mood seemed to drop tremendously. He suddenly looked…agitated.

  Here we go again, I thought. And guys say women are hard to read and go through mood swings. But this was Rick, after all, and nothing about him was consistent.

  Sarah was still running in place. “Okay, great. I’ll see you two later.” She waved and jogged away.

  I swung around to face Rick and threw my hands up. “Watching the sunrise together? Really?”

  He shrugged. “Well sure, I mean you weren’t going to tell her about the UFOs, were you?” He said raising his eyebrows at me and giving me a half smile, turning in the direction Sarah had disappeared into.

  I shook my head and started walking back to get dressed for work.

  CHAPTER 12

  The campers were still at breakfast when I got in later that morning. I walked through the double doors into the relatively small cafeteria. It looked as though a portion of the gym had been detached and transformed into a food hall. The floors were wooden planked. The large, wooden, square tables could fit up to sixteen kids on their attached benches. There were only four of those tables in the entire cafeteria.

  I gathered my first group, and we headed to the art room.

  I had a different plan for this class. Since they were one of my older groups, I decided to take them down to the docks to sketch the ocean, skies, and the sandy beach, and some of them might even enjoy the boats and yachts parked on that side of the shore. They were really excited about this one. It was a much more beautiful morning, and I planned on taking advantage.

  I had spotted this location a few days ago. I did my research on the map, and, seeing it was in town, I brought it up to Sarah. She liked the idea of taking the older group to paint boats along the ocean. Everyone loves drawing boats. She didn’t fail to remind me, however, that I needed to plan my ventures for the whole summer and couldn’t keep coming up with new ideas on a random basis.

  “I love that you’re creative, Amy, but you need to come up with a plan in advance so I can put it on the summer schedule,” she admonished.

  Sure, it was fine when she rearranged the schedule to prep for a highly awai
ted holiday show, but when I suggested something, it was considered a “lack of a carefully thought out plan.”

  We walked along the boardwalk about half a mile past the beach club campgrounds. It seemed to be a busy morning. I spotted Rachel and Peter walking toward the pool to prep for their first session. The boats seemed to have more activity on them than they’d had in the last few days. I even heard another group of kids shouting nearby.

  I turned toward the direction of the sound and spotted a group of boys and a few girls sitting along the docks in a single row with their legs hanging off the edge. I recognized them to be our campers. Rick was standing behind them, giving instructions. I looked at my own group and the space we’d ended up using. Unfortunately, I couldn’t go any farther since that would have been the end of the map for the town. The boats, however, were in very good viewing distance.

  “Okay, let’s get settled here. Please do not go within fifteen feet of the water. You are here only as artists to observe your surroundings. Find a spot that directly shows a nature effect, and focus on it.”

  My group quickly got settled into their own comfortable setting. They all positioned themselves on their focal point. They were becoming pros at finding their points as soon as they arrived at a location.

  Rick watched my group as they got settled in, surrounding themselves with their sketch pads and pencils. I was impressed at how his instructions hadn’t seemed to slow in speed since the distraction presented itself. He really was good at his job. Now that I’d gotten closer, I could hear Rick’s directions, and they sounded a lot like a game of volleyball with no net.

  He blew a whistle and the kids all jumped in the water. He tossed a lime-green-and-white-striped ball at them as they arrayed themselves in a circle. Rick remained on the docks and quickly demonstrated serving. He blew his whistle again and tossed the ball a few feet in the air, letting it fall right in the middle. Once the game started and was running smoothly, he walked off the docks toward the beach.

  He caught my eye and flashed me a half smile. “Hey.”

 

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