by E. K. Blair
3:27PM
I’m an hour ahead of my friends back home, so I drag myself into my bathroom and unpack a couple of boxes to pass the time until they get out of class. Once my belongings are put in place and organized, I toss the empty boxes over the railing that overlooks the foyer, too lazy to walk them down the stairs.
When I go back to my room, I hear a splashing from outside. Looking out my window, I find the pool guy cleaning out the filter. It’s only after he stands that I recognize him. A voyeur, hidden behind the white plantation shutters that are closed over my windows, I spy on Kason as he walks over to grab the leaf skimmer. I slant the shutters to face upward so he can’t see me as he takes the hem of his white work polo and uses it to wipe the sweat from his forehead.
His long athletic cuts are evident in his arms and also his legs that show beneath his khaki shorts. I wonder if he plays any sports or hits the gym, because he’s more defined and filled out than most of the boys my age. I debate whether to go say hi, but talk myself out of it when I remember how fast he bolted out of class when the final bell rang.
The buzzing of my cell phone pulls me away from the window, and when I see Molly’s name lit up across the screen, I smile and take the call.
“Finally. I’ve been waiting to talk to you.”
“How did it go?” is the first thing she says, and the sound of her voice has a wave of homesickness washing over me.
I flop onto the bed and groan. “Ugh. Okay, I guess. Being the new kid blows, especially since it’s nearly the end of the year. Everyone is already secured in their cliques, and then there’s me . . . the Texan with a hick accent.”
“We’re not hick,” she defends. “We’re . . . Southern.”
“Well, whatever you want to call it, it isn’t what these kids are. My blonde hair fits in, but these girls are walking around in shorts that barely cover their tiny butts.”
“Seriously? At school?”
“Apparently, the dress codes aren’t enforced, if there’s a dress code at all,” I remark. “And I need to go on a diet of X-Lax and water.”
Molly bursts out in laughter. “You are certifiably crazy. You don’t need to lose a pound!”
“Not according to Texan standards, but I doubt these people feast on fried pickles and ranch.”
“More like kale salads and soybean smoothies?”
“Totally!” We both giggle, but mine is weighted in sadness. I wish Molly were here with me. No one gets me like she does.
“Hey, can I call you later? We’re all going to Finn’s house before the basketball game tonight.”
“Tell everyone I said hi, okay?”
“Of course,” she says before adding, “I miss you, Ady.”
“I miss you, too.”
I sit on the edge of the bed and sulk my shoulders as I look around my half-unpacked room. These items may have come from my old room back home, but nothing feels the same. My mom and I only moved here a few days ago, but it’s enough time for me to feel the loneliness setting in. With her starting her new job, I know she’ll be working longer hours than what she used to back in Dallas, which make me just that much more lonely.
When I hear the wrought iron gate clank, I move toward the window to find that Kason has left. I look at the pool and think about how, back in Texas, we’d have to wait until the end of May for the pools to open and then only be able to swim for a few months before they closed back up. Here it’s hot enough to take a dip right now, and then I think about what Micah said about Indian Rocks.
In need of a little weight to be lifted off me, I decide a drive-by might help me clear my head. But it won’t be enough. I’ve always been a person who finds security within friends, and unless I put myself out there, I’m going to be miserable. As much as I hate having to be overly extroverted, I know I’m going to have to fake it until I make it.
I kick off my shoes and dig through a few boxes in search of a pair of flip-flops, which will be more suitable for the sand. After I drag the boxes from the entryway and out back to the trash cans, I get into my car and plug my destination into the GPS. When I hit the Gandy Bridge and have water all around me, I open the sunroof, roll down my windows, and breathe in paradise.
At least that’s what it feels like for this girl.
I try not to think about my friends back home as the breeze whips through my long hair, but the mind is a difficult thing to control, so I blast my stereo to try to drown out my thoughts. Before I know it, I’m pulling into the first parking spot I can find at the beach. When I kill the engine, I pep talk myself, similar to the way I did this morning before school.
I step out of the car and shove my cell into the back pocket of my shorts before making my way over the wooden walkway that leads to the sand. Using my hand as a shield against the blazing sun, I look down the beach in both directions, not having a clue as to where Micah might be. Only a few people are scattered about, so I decide to kick off my flip-flops and opt to head left over right.
Water rushes over my feet, carrying away my footprints with every ebb and flow as I wander aimlessly down the shore. I watch the boats in the distance as pelicans dive beak-first into the water. The sound of the gentle waves soothes beyond what I imagine, and I relish in the reprieve as my head clears. Collecting a few random shells, I tuck them into my pocket and then look over my shoulder to see how far I’ve walked. When I turn back, I see a cluster of guys down a ways.
Micah’s sun-bleached hair stands out from the group. With his board tucked under his arm, he watches one of his friends. The guy runs parallel to the water before dropping his board, jumping on, and skimming onto a small wave. He then flips the board beneath his feet and dives into the water.
I’m hesitant to approach but do my best to bury all social apprehensions as I begin to walk over to them. Thank God he spots me.
“Look who decided to come out and play,” he teases with a big smile as he jogs lazily toward me. A few of the other guys look my way.
“I needed to get out of my house for a while.”
“So you came to see me out of boredom?”
“Something like that.”
He punctures the sand with his board, digging it down so that it stands on end before he drops to the ground. I follow suit and sit next to him, squinting against the sun as it starts to hang a little lower in the sky.
“You come out here a lot?”
“Every chance I can.”
“It’s nice,” I murmur softly.
“First time?”
I nod. “I moved here just a few days ago.”
“Where from?”
“Texas. I lived in a suburb of Dallas. But my mom got a job offer that moved us, so here I am.”
“That must suck,” he remarks, and I turn my head to the side to look at him when he adds, “having to move in the middle of the school year.”
“You have no idea.”
“In a way, it could be nice, though. Getting to explore someplace new; meeting different people. I’ve always lived here. I love it, but I’d like to experience other places, ya know?”
I shrug my shoulders. “I guess, but I miss my friends.”
He runs his hand through his hair, slicking it back. “You’ll make new ones, Guppy.”
I shake my head and smile at my new nickname.
“Micah!”
I look over my shoulder and find Kason standing on a wooden bridge that leads out to one of the many small parking lots that weave between beach rentals.
“Be right back.” Micah jumps to his feet and jogs over to him.
Kason wears the same white work polo and khakis as he did when he was at my house a few hours ago, and I can’t deny that I find him extremely attractive. His eyes catch mine, but when I raise my hand in subtle acknowledgement, he turns and walks out of my view with Micah following behind. His shift in demeanor from this morning when we bumped into each other has me conflicted, and I think back through what little interaction we had today, wondering if
I said anything that offended him. Nothing comes to mind, but I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve done something wrong.
“Sorry about that,” Micah says when he returns a few minutes later.
“What was that about?”
“He was dropping something off.”
I pause for a moment and then decide to mention my unease. “I think I might have irritated him.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t really know,” I tell him as I push my toes into the sand. “He was really friendly when I met him this morning, but—”
“Just ignore him. He sometimes gets into these . . . funks. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a solid guy and all, he just . . .”
“What?”
Micah hesitates to go on, and as curious as I am about Kason, I feel a twinge of guilt for trying to be intrusive. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t pry.”
“People make a lot of assumptions about him. As popular as the kid is, he’s pretty closed off. He keeps his circle of friends small.”
“Have you two known each other long?”
“Since freshman year when he transferred in from his neighborhood.”
“He doesn’t live in our area?”
“Dude, you coming or what?” a guy shouts from the water.
“They go to our school?” I ask, eyeing the guys who are now looking our way.
He points over to the tall lean one. “Trent does. And those two,” he says pointing to the one who just caught a wave and another who’s standing on the shore, “they graduated last year from Shorecrest Prep And that guy over there, Brandon, he’s a senior at a school in St. Pete.”
“I’m sure I won’t remember any of that.” I laugh under my breath before standing and wiping the sand off my shorts.
“Who’s the bunny?” one of them questions as he walks over to us.
“Ady, this asshole here is Brogan,” Micah says and then turns to his buddy. “And she’s no bunny. She’s new in town.”
Brogan ticks his head up and reaches out to me. “What’s up, Ady?”
We shake hands as beads of water drip down his dark tan chest, which is inked with a few tattoos.
“I was about to leave.”
“So soon? We just met.” He exaggerates his flirtation with a charming smile, and it causes my lips to lift as well.
“Ignore him. He has a hard-on for anything that’s breathing.”
Before Brogan can say anything, I turn to Micah. “Thanks for hanging out.”
“Any time,” he responds. “You have your cell on you?”
I pull my phone from my pocket and he takes it from my hand, adding his number to my contacts.
“Shoot me a text later, and I’ll add your number to my phone, too.”
I linger for a beat as he grabs his board and heads into the water before making my way back down the shore to my car, but it isn’t Micah that creeps into my thoughts while I walk—it’s Kason.
“Ady. There you are.”
“Hey, Micah.”
“Where’re you off to?”
“The quad with all the other derelict youths,” I exhaust with a dramatic eye roll.
“Funny.” He smirks because this school is filled with elitist offspring of the rich and richer. “We’re heading out for lunch today. Wanna come?”
“You sneaking out?”
He laughs. “It’s an open campus, Guppy. Come on, let’s get out of here.”
I follow him to his truck and hop in. “Where are we going?”
“The Cheesery is at the bay today.”
“The Cheesery?”
“Best food truck in the city. It’s normally over in Palm Harbor, but every now and then it comes to South Tampa,” he tells me before turning up the music and laying a heavy foot on the gas pedal.
Micah is the epitome of what I would imagine any surfer to look like, but it’s his easygoing attitude that draws me to him. It’s only my second day at school, and he’s gone out of his way to ease my awkwardness. Not that I show it. I do my best to feign indifference to the dread of trying to fit in.
When we arrive, Micah introduces me to a handful of other kids from our school that are already there. The girls give me a fleeting hello, and I stick to Micah’s side, not wanting to be the odd man out.
Once we have our food, we carry our Styrofoam containers to the park that edges along the water. All of us scatter about in small groups and sit on the manicured grass as business men and women stroll about, enjoying their mid-day break.
“Got any plans this weekend?”
Micah catches me with a mouthful of melted cheese and caramelized apples.
“Shit’s good, huh?”
I nod with an awkward laugh from my belly as I swallow the massively unattractive bite. I wipe the back of my hand across my mouth, and then Micah leans over and takes a bite out of my sandwich.
“Hey! Eat your own.”
“Dude, that’s good,” he says around the food in his mouth.
“Next time, you should order it instead of stealing bites out of mine.”
“A woman territorial over her food. I like it.”
I playfully nudge his shoulder and catch a few glances from the group of girls huddled across the lawn from us, sipping their Diet Cokes. “Is this the typical welcoming, or should I be bothered by the disaffection?” I give a slight nod in the girls’ direction.
“Ignore them. They’re starved-for-attention bunnies.” With a questioning glance, I wait for him to explain. “Bunnies are chicks who flock to the beaches and hope to get noticed. They pretend to be down, but most of them are too uptight to get a little salt in their hair.”
I dip a fry in some ketchup and toss it into my mouth.
“But you . . . you’re of a different breed than that of around here.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
He shakes his head and stands. “I’m gonna go grab another drink. Need anything?”
“I’m good.”
I drop the other half of my gourmet grilled cheese into the container, too full to go on in my gluttony, and wipe my greasy hands on a napkin. With the sun beating down on me, I lower my sunglasses over my eyes and enjoy the warmth of this much-too-hot spring. As I look around, I give a friendly smile to the girls when they glance my way, but I don’t stay on them for more than a beat before moving on. When I spot Kason, who I hadn’t realized was here, he’s alone on the edge of the wall that drops down to the water.
I stare curiously from behind my dark lenses, wondering why he’s isolating himself from everyone. Not wanting to stew in my thoughts, I decide to make my way over to him. A tinge of insecurity flares with each step I take, but I figure I have nothing to lose by going over to say hi. I notice he has earbuds in, and he doesn’t sense my presence until I climb onto the stone wall and sit next to him.
“What are you doing here?” he asks after pulling the buds out of his ears.
“I rode with Micah.”
He looks out over the water, and the silence that strings between us does nothing for the awkwardness, so I force myself to speak.
“How come you’re sitting over here all by yourself?”
“You say that as if solitude is a bad thing.”
“Just as long as you avoid hermit status,” I respond lightly, and I relax a little when he breaks a slight smile.
“You seem to be easing in quickly.”
I shrug.
“You don’t think so?”
“There’s nothing easy about moving halfway across the country from all my friends and family only to be the new kid.”
I shoot him a quick glance from the corner of my eye to see him looking at me.
“I’m impressed.”
“By?” I question.
“Your fakery,” he responds with a smirk. “And here I assumed your confidence only to find out it’s all an act.”
“Well . . . not all of it.”
“So, tell me, where’s home?”
“Texas.”
He gives an exaggerated nod. “That explains it.”
“Explains what?”
“The accent,” he says before adding with jest, “and the way you were inhaling that grilled cheese.”
I push my hand against his arm as he laughs. “So, you were spying on me?”
“That’s a stretch. You’re sitting out here in the open.”
His smile is infectious, and the uncertainty I was feeling is no longer present as I laugh right along with him.
“In my defense, and to appear slightly more on the delicate side, I only ate half of it.” His amusement drags on, and I change the focus off me when I ask, “What are you listening to anyway?” I grab one of his earbuds and am surprised when I hear a narrator. “What’s this?”
“The Metamorphosis.” He closes the app, pops the bud out of my ear, and sets his phone down.
“Why are you listening to an audio book?”
“Because I work and I don’t want to fall behind in this class.”
I refrain from mentioning that one of the houses he works at is mine.
“What class has you reading The Metamorphosis?”
“It’s an AP course.”
“Book nerd?”
“Far from it.” He chuckles. “Just thinking ahead.”
Going back to what Micah told me about Kason not living in a neighborhood that floods into the school we go to, and also the fact that I doubt many of the kids at the school hold down a job, my curiosity about Kason piques. I want to ask more, but I don’t. The last thing I need to do is butt in where I’m not wanted.
“I haven’t given much thought to college.” I instantly regret my words after hearing how flippant they sound when spoken aloud when he’s clearly given purposeful attention to what I haven’t. “That sounded trite. It isn’t that I don’t value—”
“You don’t sound trite.”
“Ady,” Micah calls as he and Trent walk over. “Do you mind riding back with Kason?”
“Where are you going?”
“Beach.”
“You’re ditching?”
“Brogan just called. He has the jet skis out at Clearwater,” Trent says. “Wanna come?”