by Lisa Loomis
“Sure,” Sam said.
Sara was somewhat reluctant, but obviously decided it was better than sitting with us. I knew Sara got super frustrated with Mathew; he teased her and Sam a lot. Sam and Sara climbed over the fence, and they disappeared although we could still hear them talking.
“So how was the lot?” I asked, not sure of what to say.
“It’s fine.”
“Have they made a decision,” I asked, tilting my head toward the house where his parents were.
“If they have, they haven’t told us. My guess is my dad will win out, he usually does,” Mathew said.
“Mathew doesn’t want to move,” I said to Gayle.
“I didn’t either.”
“Did you move recently?” Mathew asked.
“No, I was eight, but still.”
“I would think it’s never easy,” I said, not remembering moving away from our first house, as I was so young.
“Morgan tells me you play a mean guitar,” Gayle said.
I was glad she had brought up something that made him happy, but it was kind of a dorky statement.
“I do okay,” he said, caught off guard.
“He’s good, Gayle.”
Mathew seemed embarrassed which was a first.
“What else she tell you about me?” he asked, smiling at me.
Gayle looked between the two of us.
“Nothing. Why?” she answered too quickly.
“No reason,” he said.
He was teasing her, I was sure. He knew she was my best friend and didn't doubt I had told her more. We sat out back on the grass for about an hour and talked before Ann and Brad were ready to go. The butterflies fluttered inside, and I felt like I’d won a prize in getting Gayle to finally meet him.
“I’m sure I’ll see you soon,” Mathew said as he left. “Nice meeting you, Gayle.”
The two of us watched him walk away and into the house as Sam and Sara scrambled back over the fence.
“So he is real,” she said after they were gone.
“You already knew that,” I said flatly.
“It’s fun giving you shit. Morgan, he’s way cute. No disagreement there.”
“You already knew that too. You know my taste.”
“You’re really picky,” Gayle agreed.
“When you said nothing the way you did, I almost lost it. I think he caught on that obviously I have said more to you than he plays a mean guitar. Mean guitar? Where did you pull that out of, your ass?”
“I don’t know,” she laughed.
“What else should I have said? You tell me. Hmm, you dig him, you want to kiss him, play with his hair?”
“Stop. Of course I wouldn’t want you to say that, 'cause none of it's true,” I said, smiling at her.
Chapter 10
He had finally broken into my other world. I saw Mathew several more times before we were heading to the beach with the group. Every time I was with him, I learned more about him. He was involved in sports especially football, which his dad coached. I picked up that he actually did have some insecurities, none of which he pointed out. They just came out in our conversations. He wanted to play music, get the band going. As much as his dad enjoyed Mathew’s music, he thought it was a dead end as far as a career. Brad made it pretty clear that he thought it was a pipe dream.
There was tension between his mom and dad, which he told me about: arguments about the lot and building, arguments about late nights at the office. When we were alone together, he opened up to me a lot. We became closer. If Mathew knew I had feelings for him, he didn’t let on, and I didn’t say a word. He confused me sometimes with mixed messages, either with things he said or by touching me.
“Are you excited about the beach?” I asked.
“I guess. I like the ocean and the chicks aren’t bad either.”
I thought about saying something smartass but decided against it. Whenever he threw out comments on other girls it was like a jab in my heart.
“We usually go to the Oregon coast, so this will be different, more friends, instead of family, probably warmer too,” he said.
“I can’t wait, I love the beach. I love the smell of the ocean, hearing the waves, the sun,” I said.
“You have an itsy bitsy bikini packed?” he teased.
“Several itsy bitsy bikinis, you kidding?” I said seductively.
I couldn’t wait to flaunt my almost naked body in front of him.
“Can’t wait to see.”
I smiled at him and he smiled back, a soft sexy smile. I thought the tension was there, and I thought he did too, but he never really acted on it. It seemed like he should make the first move if something were to happen.
“Yum, and Hot Dog on a Stick. I can almost taste their lemonade.”
“Hot Dog on a Stick? I don’t think I’ve eaten there,” Mathew said.
“No way! It’s down by the store. You’ll have to try it,” I said excitedly.
“I’m not a huge hot dog fan.”
“Trust me.”
We'd been sitting in Mathew’s backyard, and it was getting dark, the air was getting cool but it was still pleasant. Sam and Pat were playing tetherball. I watched the ball go around the pole one way and then the other as they battled it out.
“Morgan, do you think we are the only living planet?” Mathew asked as he tilted his head back.
I looked away from the game at him, at his serious expression.
“Where did that come from?” I asked.
“I think about that kind of stuff,” he said as he gazed up into the dark sky where a few stars were already out.
“Okay,” I said, still wondering where that comment had come from. I thought he would say something else, but he just stared into the sky. I heard the tetherball smack the pole. Pat yelled, so I knew he had won.
“I guess if I think about it, I don’t think we can be the only ones in the whole universe,” I said.
“Me neither.”
“What do you think there is?” I asked.
“I think there has to be other living things, somewhere.”
“What brought that up?”
“The moon,” he answered.
I could just see the outline of the moon.
“That was pretty random, Mathew.”
We had diverted from the beach conversation, and I wanted to go back. I felt like I needed to say something about how he was going to treat me. Bobby would be there and I didn’t want to be cut out, excluded.
“Morgan, Pat, wrap it up,” my mom called out the back door.
We both knew wrap it up could be now or an hour from now, so neither of us moved quickly. Pat and Sam had finished their game, so they headed in. Mathew still sat staring at the sky. I sat up on the edge of my chair.
“Gotta go,” I said with a sigh. “Mathew, be cool at the beach, okay?”
He rolled his head on the back of his chair where he had been resting it and looked at me.
“What do you mean by that?” he asked as his blue eyes twinkled and a slight smile turned up on his lips.
“You know,” I said, standing.
As I turned, he reached out to swat my rear. I caught his movement and leapt forward, and he missed.
“See you. Don’t let the little green men get you,” I laughed over my shoulder as I went into the house.
On the drive to the beach, I thought about Mathew. My feelings were confusing. He was my friend, but I wanted more than that, while I was clearly uncertain about his feelings for me. There were things he did that made me question his feelings in both directions. There were certainly opportunities if he had wanted to try something, like kissing me. Where at first we’d kept our talks pretty general, now we talked about almost everything. He talked to me a ton about girls, so it was clear the thoughts were there. I wondered what was wrong with me; why he didn’t find me desirable.
“Here we are,” my dad said, pulling into the driveway.
“Come on, guys, let me show
you the house before we unpack,” my mom said, opening her door.
Pat and I scrambled out and followed her into the house excitedly. The entry and kitchen were dark, but the living area was filled with light.
“Wow, this really is right on the beach. How cool,” I exclaimed, looking out the back window, which was a wall of glass facing the ocean.
The living area was cozy and yet designed to take full advantage of the view. The house was three stories with four bedrooms and a huge game room on the top floor.
“A pool table,” Pat cried, walking into the room.
“Thought you guys could have some fun with that,” my mom said, smiling.
Pat pulled the balls from the pockets as I walked out onto the balcony, the air still and warm—I could see the ocean in both directions for miles, feel the salt in the air, hear the surf as it crashed along the shore. It was basic in its beauty and reflected what I felt: the possibilities of the summer with a sense of the wild.
“What do you think?” my mom asked, coming to the railing.
“It’s beautiful, the house and the ocean,” I answered.
I looked to the big cement patio below with stairs leading directly down to the sand.
“I thought you would like it. You and Pat will share the third-floor bedroom, and the Powers and their girls will be on the second floor, along with us.”
“No ocean view?” I whined.
“You won’t be in the bedroom that much,” she said.
“I’m teasing. It’s fine. I’m excited.”
I could tell my mom was pleased with herself about the accommodations. It certainly felt ritzy.
“The game room has pullout sofas; you could sleep there if you need to be closer to the ocean,” mom replied.
“It’s all good, Mom,” I said, hugging her.
Mom had pointed out the condos across the street and down the block where the rest of the group was staying on our way in. Once I saw this house, I knew where beach central would be.
“Hey, we’re here,” I heard Nancy Powers call out downstairs.
We started down the stairs and ended up meeting Melanie and Sheryl, their two daughters, on the second level.
“Hi there,” my mom said.
“This is so cool,” Melanie said as she poked her head into the bedrooms.
“Wait until you see the rest,” I said.
“Check out the top floor,” Pat said as the girls went by us up the next flight of stairs.
While Pat followed them back up, mom and I continued down. Nancy and Paul were bringing in luggage from their car. Paul was cool; he always took us for candy and ice cream. He spoiled his girls, and when we were together, Pat and I got to reap the benefits.
“Hey, Morgan,” Paul said, setting down a suitcase and hugging me.
“Look how grown up,” he said when he pulled away. “Taller for sure since I saw you last.”
“Where did the girls go?” Nancy asked. “They need to help.”
“I can get it,” Paul said just as Melanie and Sheryl came running back down the stairs.
“Dad, wait until you see. There’s a pool table on the top floor,” Melanie said excitedly.
“Let’s get the car emptied first,” Nancy said, trying to maintain order.
Luggage was carried to rooms, and finally, we were free to hit the beach. The four of us changed into bathing suits, grabbed towels, and headed toward the water. There was a large stretch of beach between the house and the water and the sand was hot. I dug my feet in, searching for cooler sand as we walked.
“How about here?” Melanie asked, dropping her beach bag.
“Good,” I said, dropping mine and reaching for my towel.
We spread out our towels and applied sunscreen while we caught up with Melanie and Sheryl. They lived in Tahoe, and we only saw them a few times a year. While we talked, the rest of the group slowly trickled to the beach as they arrived. By three o’clock, most of the kids had found us. I knew Mathew was here as Sara had joined us, but I hadn’t seen him. The smell of Sea and Ski lotion filled the air, sort of sweet and refreshing.
“I love that smell. Even if I’m not at the beach, it reminds me of it,” I said.
“Or of skiing,” Pat pointed out.
“True.”
“Let’s get in the water,” Melanie said, “I’m hot.”
“I’m in,” I said.
We made our way down to the ocean, many of us breaking into a run because the sand was burning our feet. Although it was the hot part of summer, the water still felt cold, colder with the air being so warm. Melanie was the first one in, boldly diving under the waves.
“You’re so brave,” I shouted at her as she surfaced.
I watched her, as I stood knee-deep, letting the waves circle around me, getting up my courage to get in. Man, it felt cold. From behind, arms encircled me quickly, propelling me forward into the surf and the incoming wave. I came up from under the water with a scream. I flipped my hair out of my eyes to find Mathew laughing beside me.
“You, jerk,” I shouted and went after him.
“Come on, Morgan,” he said, egging me on with his hands.
I lunged toward him and caught his shoulders, pulling him backwards into me as we both fell back into the water. We continued like this until we both were out of breath from chasing and laughing. My body felt seared from where his arms had gone around me—more than once—in our sparring. When we made our way back to where the towels were, Mathew followed and proceeded to join me on my towel.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked.
“I forgot mine back at the condo. Did no one teach you about sharing, Morgan?”
There were a few snickers from the group, so I let it go and he stayed. I really wanted him there, but didn’t want anyone to know, especially Mathew, so I acted annoyed. The physical proximity of him made me crazy; his arm or leg touching me every now and then. These days I was constantly hoping he would touch me.
Bobby finally showed up, and with his arrival, Mathew and he took off. The rest of us decided that Hot Dog on a Stick was calling. Long before I got there, I could smell the hot dogs and the crisp tang of fresh lemon in the air. Smells have a way of pulling me back in time: to people or places or moments. I remembered last year when mom had brought Pat and I over for the day and the three of us had gorged ourselves here. I ordered a Cheese-on-a-Stick and a large lemonade.
“You always have that,” Pat said with a snicker.
“I know it’s better than mom’s grilled cheese.”
“Not a chance. Hot Dog on a Stick, you do a hot dog, dumbass,” Pat stated as he ordered a hot dog and a lemonade.
“Trade you a bite for a bite,” I offered.
“No way,” he said pulling his hot dog closer to him. “Cooties.”
I knew full well, if it were just the two of us, he would have been all over it. While we sat on the surf wall and ate, no one said much. I kicked my legs and stared at the people. The people watching along this portion of the beach was pretty amusing. A lot of transient and real earthy, beachy people hung here. Most were hippies. The smell of patchouli oil and marijuana would come in whiffs. Many of them were drinking who-knows-what out of paper bags. We assumed it was some kind of liquor. Some wore bathing suits; some had on tie-dyed skirts, beads, and headbands; most had long hair. Sometimes they would be in groups playing musical instruments and asking for money. It was sort of a mini-carnival of independent souls, although some of the guys were creepy. With the group, I felt safe to stay and watch.
Chapter 11
Everyone spent the majority of their time at our house or on the beach in front of our house. There was a bathroom close by and cold drinks in a number of coolers. The adults stuck to the patio while all of us kids, in varying age groups, drifted between the beach, ocean, pool room, a small convenience store for candy, and, of course, Hot Dog on a Stick. Mathew and Bobby spent most of their time together, off on their own. I hadn’t been invited to j
oin them, nor did I ask. I saw them briefly at meals or on the beach. They weren’t rude, just evasive.
I spent time with the other teens: playing in the ocean; lying out in the sun slathered in Sea and Ski or Tropicana, the smell of it radiating from our browning bodies; and, pool table tournaments on the third floor during the day and at night. We would walk to the store for something different to do. We people-watched from the sea wall.
We built a bonfire in front of the house on the sand every night. We took turns combing the beach for driftwood and stacked it up in preparation during the day. We took long walks along the beach, searching for shells and sea glass. Mathew and Bobby were usually at the bonfires, and Mathew would play while the firelight danced off his hair and guitar. Sometimes the whole group would try to sing along, which was pretty bad. I liked it better when just Mathew sang.
We had s‘mores a couple of nights: roasting marshmallows to perfection and gently squishing them in between graham crackers layered with Hershey’s chocolate. We would laugh when someone caught their marshmallow on fire and couldn’t get it out prior to it being charcoal.
The week went fast and, although I hadn’t spent much time with Mathew, I told myself it didn’t matter. There were too many kids around not to find fun. Our parents dropped us all off at the Santa Cruz Boardwalk one day and I rode the Big Dipper with Melanie twelve times. We rode the merry-go round and threw brass rings at the clown’s mouth until we got to where we could make the bell ring most of the time. We ate fried food until we felt stuffed, and then topped it off with cotton candy.
By the time we got picked up and back to the beach house, it was dark and we decided to meet back on the third floor to play pool. Melanie, Sheryl, Pat, and I got there first. Pat was pulling the balls out of the pockets and getting ready to rack them up.
“This was such a fun day,” Pat said.
“It was. I can’t believe we rode the Big Dipper so many times,” I said, looking at Melanie.
She’d been insistent on us getting off and getting right back in line, like a round robin.
“I love that ride,” she said. “The ratcheting up, up, and then flying down the other side, the twists and turns making it feel like you might fly off.