by Lisa Loomis
Eventually everyone showed up; I was out on the balcony watching the ocean when Mathew and Bobby put in an appearance. I heard the slider open, but I didn’t turn around, hoping. I sighed to myself when Mathew stepped up next to me and put his hands on the railing.
“Have a good day today?” he asked.
“Yeah, it was a lot of fun.”
“Ocean’s pretty even in the dark,” he said.
He stepped over to the big, manual spotlight and ran the beam down the beach and over the water, illuminating a small portion of the ocean at a time, allowing us to see the waves break in the dark, and the foam swirl around and onto the beach.
I didn’t answer and kept looking out. I had tried to convince myself that I wasn’t hurt by his distance, but I was.
“Are you mad?” Mathew asked.
“No. What is there to be mad about?” I said calmly.
“I don’t know, you just seem mad.”
Then why don’t you just kiss me?
“Mathew, do you remember what I said to you at your house?”
He looked over at me and thought for a minute.
“Be cool?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“So?”
“I guess you didn’t get it.”
“Get what?” he asked, confused.
“Never mind.”
I wasn’t going to explain how the two of them had left me out. I’d just end up sounding whinny. Bobby opened the slider and joined us.
“What’s up?” Bobby asked
“Watching the waves,” I answered.
Mathew would look at the ocean, and then out of the corner of my eye, I would catch him looking at me. I wouldn’t turn to look at him. The silence became uncomfortable. Bobby no doubt could feel the tension as just as quickly as he came out he went back inside. Mathew moved closer to me, leaning his shoulders and head over the railing, his face toward me so that I couldn’t help but look at him.
“Don’t lean like that,” I scolded.
“Why?”
“The railing's sort of rusted at the bottom. I don’t want you to fall.”
He looked down and saw where the ocean air had corroded the railing between the balcony and the metal rail. He leaned farther.
“Don’t. I mean it,” I glared at him.
His blue eyes, even bluer, with his now-tan skin, stared back at me. His head was cocked to the side, his hair falling at an angle.
“Don’t be mad, Morgan.”
“I told you, I’m not mad,” I said looking away.
I could feel tears welling up in my eyes, which frustrated me further. I took a deep breath to help fight them back. Damn you, Mathew I thought just go.
“Meet Bobby and me down the beach tomorrow night for a bonfire. We’ll be in front of the blue house with white shutters, close to the water. It’s about five houses up from here.”
“I know where it is,” I interrupted.
“When you see the fire start, we’re there.”
He waited.
“Please come,” he begged.
He ran his hand down my arm and onto my hand that was still resting on the rail. He squeezed it and then turned, opening the slider. I heard the pool balls crack when he opened the door. The crack reminded me of the feelings that shot through me when he touched me. He shut the door, leaving me alone. I stood and watched the ocean, attempting to bury my emotions. I heard the door open downstairs. I looked down to see Mathew and Bobby leaving the house. They walked down onto the beach and headed in the direction of the condos. I watched them walk into the dark, hearing them talking softly. At the blue house with white shutters, Mathew turned around. He saw me still on the balcony.
“Come,” he yelled.
Bobby gave him a shove and Mathew stumbled in the sand, but didn’t fall. I smiled and went inside to where I hoped a game of pool and people would distract me.
I swore to myself throughout the following day I wouldn’t go. I was pissed off about how they had avoided me all week, and I was especially tweaked at Mathew. When Bobby wasn’t around, he could at least be friendly. We usually would talk, and this time he hadn’t said more than a few words to me.
My vision of Mathew and me at the beach had been blown to smithereens; I had thought we would hang together at least some of the time. I stayed away from the other kids most of the day. The majority of the group was hanging out on the beach in front of Hot Dog on a Stick—including Mathew and Bobby. I figured if I avoided them maybe I wouldn’t be tempted to meet them later at their bonfire. Melanie and I did some shell and glass hunting in the opposite direction.
“You like him, don’t you?” Melanie asked as I picked up a pretty round rock.
“Who?” I asked, inspecting the rock, trying to dodge her question.
“Mathew.”
“No, I don’t like him. I mean I like him as a friend, if that’s what you mean.” Shit I sounded phony even to myself.
“You don’t have to tell me. You just get different when he’s around.”
“I don’t mean to,” I said.
“I know.”
I wondered how obvious my attraction was to most of the kid group. As it got closer to dusk, I found I was telling myself more frequently that I couldn’t go, shouldn’t go. That would show Mathew. “Please come” I heard him say in my mind over and over. Instead I played several rounds of pool with Pat and my dad, but I wasn’t playing very well.
“Not like you to let us beat you so badly,” my dad teased
I kept looking in the direction of the bonfire location, nothing. Maybe it was more of Mathew’s bullshit, his way of leading me on. Finally, about nine o’clock, a bonfire started. No, Morgan I told myself and turned back to the pool game.
“Eight ball, right pocket,” my dad called as he chalked up his stick and shot.
The ball rolled, hit the pocket straight on and sank.
“Damn,” I cried, “you beat me again.”
“Head's not in the game, girl,” he said, patting my head.
“I’m going to go meet some of the kids at a bonfire.”
“Where?” my dad asked, surprised.
Usually it was right in front of our place.
“Right there,” I said, pointing.
It was close, but still far enough away that you couldn't tell who was there.
“Who’s there?” he asked.
“Some of the kids. I’m not exactly sure who will show up.”
“Okay, have fun. Pat, rack 'em up,” he said.
I left the house and walked down the beach and up to the bonfire. Mathew and Bobby were alone. Mathew had his guitar in his lap and he smiled up at me.
“Morgan, ‘come’ sit down,” Bobby teased, shouting come like Mathew had shouted.
I stood, hesitating, and Mathew shot Bobby a cautionary glance.
“He’s teasing, Morgan, sit down,” Mathew said, patting the sand next to him.
I sat down where he said, the three of us forming a semi-circle around the fire. I crossed my legs over one another and put my hands toward the fire.
“Nice. You gonna play?” I asked, looking at the guitar. “Or have you already?”
“I have, but I can play some more. Want a beer?” Mathew offered.
“A beer? Where did you get beer?”
“We got one of the hippie chicks to buy it for us,” Bobby replied.
“I don’t want one,” I said.
“Oh, come on, just a try. One beer won’t do anything,” Mathew said.
I wanted to be part of them, to feel like I was welcome, maybe even sought out by Mathew. I wanted to be close to Mathew, so I took the Miller that was being offered.
“Thanks,” I said.
My dad allowed me to have sips of his beer on occasion, so I knew what it tasted like. It was easier for us to get the hard stuff so that's what Gayle and I usually drank. I took a sip, and they looked at each other and laughed. I felt like I was the brunt of a joke between them. I put the beer can down
and got up angrily. I turned from the fire and started back down the beach. Mathew came after me and grabbed my arm.
“Don’t go. I’m sorry, we weren’t trying to be mean. Come back and talk to us for a while,” he said sincerely.
I clenched my jaw and let him walk me back to the fire.
“Listen, you two, I’m fucking tired of it. If you want me to stay, you better keep the inside jokes to yourselves.”
After that we sat and drank beer and talked. I learned that Mathew and Bobby had both tried cigarettes and pot. Pot they liked, cigarettes not. We had all experimented with alcohol. I left my pot experience out. We talked about parents and finally, girls. Both Mathew and Bobby told me about girls they liked. Because the three of us went to different schools, the names meant nothing to me, but I imagined them as great beauties. No doubt the popular girls. Adults told me I was beautiful, but I didn't feel that way around my peers, especially these two. Straight blonde hair was beautiful, what the boys seemed to like, not crazy curly hair. I had the tall, thin part going for me. Boobs had finally started, thank god. Still, the boys didn’t seem attracted. I envied those girls who were getting boys to notice them.
“Mathew, play something,” I demanded.
“You want another beer?” he asked.
“Sure.”
He handed me another one and picked up his guitar. I leaned my elbows back against a log that was by the fire to listen, relaxing as I watched the firelight dance across his face and hair. I loved to watch his hands, his fingers moving, hitting the chords. As he played, my heart let some of the resentment go. He played three songs before he set it down.
“Thanks,” I said when he stopped. “Something about a fire, guitar, and the ocean.”
“I think you’ve got a fan,” Bobby said.
“Had one,” I said and caught myself.
Mathew smiled.
“Morgan, we’ve been talking about girls. Is there a guy you like?” Mathew asked.
I pushed up off my elbows, sitting upright. Did he know? I looked him straight in the eye.
“No, I haven’t found anyone worthy yet,” I said, challenging him slightly.
Bobby motioned his head toward Mathew. Mathew caught Bobby’s movement and looked at Bobby and then straight at me. Our eyes locked for a moment, and then I laughed.
“No,” I protested, laughing, wondering if the two of them were digging or only Mathew.
I didn’t want to know, so I changed the subject.
“Play one more, will you?”
Mathew played another song. Bobby and Mathew had another beer, and I started to get a clearer picture of what they were really doing while they were MIA, partying. Mathew plucked at his guitar a little more. Just chords, not a complete song. It was getting late, and as much as I wanted to stay, I knew I should be getting back.
“I should go,” I said.
“I’ll walk you back,” Mathew said.
“That’s okay. It’s just right there,” I motioned.
He stood up and started in the direction of the house.
“Bye, Bobby,” I said, getting up and dusting the sand off my pants.
“See ya, Morgan,” Bobby said.
I hurried behind Mathew and slowed when I was walking by his side. Maybe Mathew could tell the conversation had turned to a topic I didn’t want to discuss. Maybe he knew I was a little unnerved. Whatever it was, he felt the need to walk with me in the cooling sand. We were barefoot and I could feel the sand slip up between my toes.
“I’m glad you came,” he said.
“I wanted to hear you play,” I said, trying to minimize my reasons.
“You can go back now,” I said, as we got closer to the house.
He took my hand and pulled my arm down and towards him, making me falter sideways. My free hand shot out and landed on his chest in order to balance myself. He had shorts on and a shirt, which hung open, the sleeves rolled up. His skin felt soft and warm.
“What was that?” I asked, looking up at him.
His eyes searched mine. My hand was still on his chest, and I dropped it, looking down to avoid his eyes. My mind raced, and I remembered our fireside conversation. What was he doing? He had a thing for some girl named Debbie. I didn’t move. It seemed like a long time we stood that way when finally he took my face in his hands and raised it to look at him. He moved toward me and kissed me lightly on the lips. My body melted. He kissed me again firmer, longer. My heart was beating rapidly and the butterflies were tumbling in my chest. Then he pulled back.
“Friends?” he asked.
I looked into his eyes and was confused at what I saw.
“Yeah, friends,” I answered, pulling away from him, confused.
He dropped his hands to his side. I wanted more, more kissing, more than friends. Friends screamed in my head. I turned away from him and walked toward the house. I could see people still in the pool room. I focused on that so I wouldn’t turn around. What just happened? I wondered if Bobby had seen us. I wondered if they would just laugh about it over another beer. I wondered why. We were friends. Friends didn’t kiss friends. Not that kind of kiss. His lips had been so soft. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
I purposely avoided Mathew and Bobby the last two days at the beach. I concentrated on having a good time with the girls while trying to persuade myself I didn’t really like Mathew at all. The harder I tried to avoid him, the more he seemed to get in my space. Unlike the first part of the week, now he made me feel his presence. The more I tried to understand it, the less I did.
I finally came to the conclusion there were two Mathews: one I liked, the other one I didn’t.
Chapter 12
“What does that mean?” Gayle asked.
I was sitting at the desk in our kitchen on the phone. I had been talking to her for days about the beach trip.
“It means that he can be so different, Gayle. I don’t know. Like when I’m alone with him at his house: we talk, we're friends. He plays his guitar and I listen. At the beach, most of the time he made me feel like I had some fucking disease until I tried to avoid him, then he wanted to be around. He’s never kissed me. Why kiss me and say friends? Friends don’t do that. Not like that anyway.”
“He’s a boy. He doesn’t know what he wants.”
“Maybe it was just the beer,” I said, hoping things would change between Mathew and me.
“Maybe just be his friend. Forget about anything else,” she suggested.
“I wish I could,” I said. “I wish I could make my feelings for him disappear.”
Summer ended and school began. The O’Conner’s bought the lot in Almaden and were in the process of building a house. We started to see them even more frequently. Mathew and I were thrown together regardless, so we talked, and he played his guitar for me. He was unhappy about the thought of moving. He was unhappy about having to start in a new school. His dad was pressuring him to get more involved in sports and less in music. I could tell he was having a hard time with the changes, so I became a good listener. I listened more than I talked, and he grew even more comfortable with me and me with him. Much to my disappointment, he hadn’t tried to kiss me again.
In February, the same group that had gone to the beach planned a snow skiing trip to Lake Tahoe for a week. Mathew and Bobby would be there, palling around, and I was sure I would not be included. Despite Mathew's and my growing friendship, I knew from the beach what I could expect. I decided it would be best for me to stay out of their way this trip, avoid them. I felt like I was growing up and getting a better handle on my feelings for him. I had managed to rein in most of my desperate feelings. I didn’t want to concern myself with their actions or motives. I didn’t want Mathew working his way under my skin so that I cared even a little.
The drive to Tahoe had been long, and we arrived late afternoon while it was still light. I could tell it was cold by how the snow crunched under the tires as we pulled into the complex.
“Everyone getting her
e today?” I asked.
“Should be,” my mom answered. “Dinner is at the O’Conner’s, at least that’s what we planned. Everyone is meeting at their condo.”
Oh good I thought miserably as I stepped out of the car, throw me right in Mathew’s path. I paused and exhaled, grinning at the ability to see my breath.
“Someone has a fire going,” I said, smelling it in the air. Fire, it was good wherever it was.
“Morgan, come help me make this salad,” my mom said after we’d gotten settled in.
As she washed the lettuce, I cut up tomatoes and onions.
“You excited about seeing the gang?” she asked.
“I guess. I’m excited to ski for sure,” I answered.
I’d seen Mathew just last week at the construction site. He'd been nice, but I wasn’t expecting that same treatment this week. I didn’t want to be disappointed, have my feelings hurt.
“Done,” she said as we finished the salad and put it into the refrigerator. “We’re due over there about six thirty. So you and Pat have about forty-five minutes.”
I went upstairs and unpacked my things into the loft where Pat and I would be sleeping. I changed from my T-shirt into an off-white sweater, tight, clingy, accentuated my boobs and went downstairs to use the bathroom and check my makeup. I wanted to look good for me. We walked two buildings down to the O’Conner’s unit. Ann took the salad from my mom and kissed her cheek when we walked in.
“Thanks for making the salad. Kids are upstairs,” Ann said to Pat and me. “Patty, Steve, what can I get you to drink?”
Pat and I moved toward the staircase as they continued to talk. Their condo was larger than ours and had actual bedrooms upstairs with a second living area. A group of kids sat watching TV while Mathew sat plucking at his guitar much to Sara’s irritation.
“Hey guys,” she said as we entered.
“Hey,” I answered.
Mathew looked up, realized who it was, and gave me the once-over. Okay, don’t start that shit already. Feeling self-conscious, I crossed my arms in front of my chest, which made him smile. I could feel my temperature rise, a little irritation, a little glad he’d looked. Pat and I moved into the room and took a spot on the floor. It wasn’t long before Bobby and his family arrived, and Mathew and Bobby took off. As much as I didn’t want it to, it bothered me that Mathew treated me differently when we weren’t alone. Bobby definitely changed the dynamics of our relationship.