Short Stuff

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Short Stuff Page 6

by Alysia Constantine


  “Tommy, honey, take a breath,” Elise said, turning a page. “You have to tune them out. Let them work it out. So long is no one is hurt or in danger, a little screeching won’t kill anyone.”

  “Mom.” Tommy took a deep breath and then another, and they were both utterly useless in calming him. “I can’t tune them out. They’re at volume nine.”

  “Oh, I’d only give them a seven out of ten,” she said. “You look warm, honey. Why don’t you go for a walk? The air is cooler by the edge of the water.”

  “You sure?”

  “Tommy, I didn’t bring you on vacation to babysit your siblings the whole time.” Her sunglasses covered about half her face, but he’d bet money that she was rolling her eyes at him.

  “Okay.” Tommy ran up to the cottage to grab his phone and earbuds. He pulled on a shirt, slipped his phone into a pocket, and headed toward the public park farther down the eastern shoreline.

  Tommy waded, enjoying the suck and pull of sand as each small wave rushed over his feet. The sand was clear of debris and soft and there no clumps of seaweed to avoid. Often, after a storm came through, they’d find the waterline strewn with seaweed and washes of little shells swathed over large portions of beach. Hannah and Ethan would have a field day picking buckets of them, which his mom would secretly throw away before they could beg to take them all home to make a “collection.”

  Twenty One Pilots pulsed through his earbuds loudly enough to drown out the cry of the gulls, the chatter of the beachgoers he walked past, and even the ever-present susurration of the water. Right at the horizon, he could see the steady progress of a lake freighter. He was watching it when he got hit square in the chest by a football.

  “Fuck.” Tommy ripped out his ear buds. Ow, that hurt.

  “Oh, man, I am so sorry.” It was one of the guys he’d seen last night from the cottage next door. And he was cute: all dark hair and easy smile, long-limbed but stockier than Tommy. “I tried to call out, but—”

  “Yeah, my music was pretty loud,” Tommy said. He tried to drape his earbuds around his neck casually, hoping the movement might invite further interaction. He fumbled with them and ended up draping the tangled mess over his right shoulder. The guy watched with amused interest and didn’t say anything. Tommy looked down and noted that the football was at his feet. Oh.

  “Oh, uh, sorry about that,” he said. His earphones fell into the sand when he bent over to pick up the football.

  “No worries.” The guy was kind enough not to laugh, but amusement was evident in the crinkled corners of his eyes. He held out a hand. “I’m Chase.”

  Tommy had begun to extend the football when he realized Chase was actually going for a handshake. This time he did close his eyes in embarrassment.

  “I’m Tommy,” he said. Chase’s palm was smooth and warm. His messy, dark hair was caught in the breeze, which was picking up off the water. “I’m sorry.” He managed to actually hold out the football.

  “Stop apologizing, really. It’s okay. I’m the one who assaulted you with sporting goods,” Chase said. One of his friends called out from farther down the beach; with enviable grace and coordination he tossed the ball to him. Tommy expected him to walk away, but he didn’t. He turned back toward him and pushed up his sunglasses. His eyes were a strange hazel, almost olive green. Maybe they’d change in the light. Tommy thought, wildly, of getting to observe them in different lights and then squashed the notion. Belatedly he realized it was his turn to speak.

  “So…”

  “You here for the week?” Chase asked casually, as if Tommy weren’t the worst at conversation with a stranger, ever.

  “Yeah, I come with my family every year.”

  “Those your siblings, last night?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Tommy was surprised he’d been noticed. “Hannah and Ethan.”

  “That’s cool. I always wanted siblings.”

  “Ooh, an only child,” Tommy said. “I’ve always wanted to know how the other half lives.”

  Chase’s smile was bright and quick. He probably never had to worry about first impressions, not with a face like that. “Wanna come meet my cousins? We’re neighbors for a week, right?”

  Tommy bit down on the inside of his check, trying not to betray an uncool level of excitement. “Sure, that would be awesome.”

  Chase gestured with his shoulder, and Tommy followed. He tried it ignore the heat in his belly whenever Chase’s shoulder brushed his. He walked the water’s edge, splashing and wishing he had sunglasses too. It was so much easier to check someone out from behind a screen that shielded the play of thoughts people always told him were much too easy to read.

  Chase’s cousin threw the ball. Chase caught it easily, jostling Tommy in the process. His laughter was easy and infectious.

  “Hey, guys, this is Tommy. I found him wandering the shore alone,” Chase said.

  “Hey.” The other guy extended a sandy hand. “I’m Jake.” He pointed up toward the grass, where a girl was laying out towels to dry. “That’s my sister, Cheryl.”

  Tommy waved and told himself this was easy. That it could be easy. That it should be easy. He’d have to master this soon enough, meeting new people at college. Tommy grew up with the same friends his entire life. He’d gone to the same tiny Catholic school with the same students since he was a little kid. His awkwardness in new situations was rarely a problem when everyone already knew him. And okay, it sucked sometimes (a lot), being a prepackaged version of Tommy who fit into a neat box made of other people’s perceptions and expectations. That’s how high school was, right? Everyone fit into their own slot, and the lives they made after high school were the ones that mattered. People became who they wanted to be, if it all went okay.

  Tommy was messy and uncoordinated, unsure of each movement, worrying each word like a stone in his mouth. And yeah, he often despaired over his inability to enter new situations without being horrendously awkward, sure it would never go away. The sun kissed Chase’s skin, which was shining and slick with sweat and sunscreen. Tommy knew it wasn’t fair to assume that a guy who looked like that, who moved with ease and confidence, never felt as awkward and wrong as he did, but he was going to do it anyway.

  “I have to warn you, I have the literally worst hand-eye coordination.” Tommy forced himself to smile, to banter, knowing that if he had long enough to warm up, the smile would be genuine. He just had to fake being himself until…he could be himself.

  “Well, that always spices up a game of catch,” Chase said. He lobbed the ball at Tommy without warning, and Tommy caught it more out of instinct than skill. He passed it back to Jake before playfully kicking some sand at Chase.

  An hour later they were all sweat-soaked and sandy and, when Cheryl came with hot dogs, unanimously starving. “Mom sent me down with sustenance.”

  “Oh.” That was his cue. “I’ll let you guys eat in peace.”

  “No, man, stay.” Jake, focused on the potato chip bag he was trying to open, shot him a smile.

  “We have plenty,” Cheryl said. “Really.”

  The warmth of welcome washed through him. “Thanks.”

  “Ok, wait. No ketchup? Mustard?” Chase frowned.

  “My hands were full. Take your complaint somewhere else. Or up to the grill station Mom has going; they have stuff.” Chase ran up to their cottage to get condiments and drinks. Tommy accepted a paper plate and hesitated. You’ve been invited. He took a hot dog gingerly.

  “Relish too!” Tommy met Chase’s eyes as he bounded down the stairs. Heat flashed through him, between them. Not that he’d ever had someone to flirt with, but Tommy was relatively sure that there was something sparking, something flirtier than normal in that look.

  “You’re here with family? Chase said you all are cousins.”

  “Mmhmm.” Cheryl nodded toward the deck to their left. It was larger than t
he one that came with Tommy’s cottage. “It’s our parents’ twentieth wedding anniversary, so a bunch of family thought they’d have a celebratory week.”

  “You’d think they might want a solo vacation,” Tommy said. Then, “Oh, shit, was that rude?”

  “Not at all,” Cheryl said, drowning her hot dog in ketchup.

  “Our parents are close friends,” Chase said. “So they invited us. And then Aunt Katie found out and…it grew.”

  “It’s nice though. Like a big family reunion. Plus, we have each other and can do our own thing.” Jake crammed half a hot dog into his mouth. “They even let us share our own cottage, away from the adults and the little kids too. It’s the tiny one, right behind yours?”

  “Wow, that’s awesome.” Tommy took a handful of chips, mindful of talking with his mouth full. “We’ve always just come the five of us.”

  “So basically, it’s just your family?” Cheryl asked.

  “Yup. I get a lot of reading done. And you know, my siblings can be fun. Not that it’s the same as having, you know,” he paused, wondering how to word it without sounding like he was inviting himself to hang out with them, “people my age around. I mean. Like family, and—”

  “Well, then this is your lucky year,” Chase bumped shoulders with him. “Because this year, you have us.”

  Tommy flushed and looked down; ketchup from his hotdog had plopped onto his lap. He felt better then, less as if he’d been invited out of politeness. It made laughing over Cheryl’s burnt hot dogs easier. It made observing their banter, even jumping in a time or two, easier.

  “You like Coke?” Chase asked after a bit, smoothing over the silence. Tommy’s smile was permission enough for Chase to crack one open one-handed.

  By the time Tommy checked his phone, he was surprised to see hours had passed. The agitation and irritation inspired by his siblings was long forgotten; even more, he was relieved at having passed a small test, at finding that he could challenge himself to come out of his shell.

  “Crap, I gotta go,” he said, not bothering to hide his regret. “Got family stuff tonight.”

  “That’s cool,” Jake said. “We’ll see you later.”

  “You’re here for the week though, right?” Chase asked. Tommy bit his lip and turned his face away to hide a wide smile.

  “Yes.”

  “Sweet.” Chase stood up and brushed sand from his shorts. Tommy fell in step with him automatically, realizing belatedly that Chase was walking him home. It was cute, considering that their cottages were a stone’s throw from each other. “You able to hang out again?”

  “Definitely,” Tommy said. Alone, he felt better letting himself smile. Chase’s directness was refreshing; Tommy didn’t have to guess at his interest now, because the darted looks from Tommy’s eyes to his lips and the slow heat of his smile said it all.

  “Have a good night then,” Chase turned away with a final glance over his shoulder. Tommy could see Cheryl stretching out on a chaise lounge in the sand. Her laughter was a tease directed toward Chase, who shook his head. His words were caught by the wind. Tommy forced himself to go in, lest he get caught staring, but he was smiling so hard his cheeks hurt.

  Chapter Three

  On Monday, everything and nothing in Tommy’s life changed.

  He played with Hannah and Ethan. He helped get them get lunch and slayed both his mom and dad during their evening round of Push. He spent so much time out on the beach that he went to bed that night with an uncharacteristic sunburn.

  At the same time, though, there was Chase. They didn’t spend the whole day with each other, exactly. But they sure spent a lot of it together. And when they weren’t together, Tommy couldn’t help but track Chase’s movements along the beach. Jerry had had an outright laugh at him at one point; Tommy had been watching Chase as he took his turn with a paddleboard his aunt had rented.

  “You have it so bad, buddy,” Jerry had said.

  “Shut up,” Tommy’d said, shoulders up by his ears, but he’d laughed too. Chase fell off the board but surfaced laughing; water was slick and streaming down his chest. Tommy did have it bad. That didn’t stop him from watching all Chase’s abysmal attempts at paddle boarding or staring as he made his way out of the water and up to the cottages for lunch.

  Tommy ate his own lunch with Ethan and Hannah, then playing the world’s most repetitive game of I Spy, before escaping to the beach without even asking his mom to watch the kids. They were her kids, after all. Right? Ugh. Tommy squashed guilt and reminded himself it was his vacation too. He was allowed to drowse on the beach with a book.

  “Hey, wanna go for a walk?” Chase caught Tommy off guard; he had fallen asleep only about twenty pages into his book. Tommy’s family must have come down at some point because Jerry was playing catch with Hannah and Ethan while his mother relaxed on a lounge chair next to him.

  “Yeah!” Tommy sat up in a flurry of sand. “I mean,” he cleared his throat. “Yes, that would be cool.”

  “Have fun, kids,” Elise said, unabashedly amused. Tommy’s withering glare was completely lost behind his sunglasses, and, while Chase didn’t appear to be laughing at him, he was clearly definitely amused. Tommy brushed sand from his arms and legs with as much dignity as he could muster.

  “Hold on a sec,” Tommy said, leaving Chase to make small talk with his mom—please, god, let her be subtle—while he ran up to the cottage to grab a tank top and two small bottles of water. He was back seconds later, out of breath and juggling the bottles and the tank top, which he had somehow not thought to put on upstairs. Chase was telling his mom a story about his parents; he had her laughing, and Tommy spared a second to be thankful she wasn’t doing the talking. “Here. Uh—” He tried to hand Chase a bottle of water but almost dropped both.

  “I can take them,” Chase said, nodding at the tank top, “so you can get that on.”

  Tommy looked down, overcome by an unbidden but undeniably compelling image of Chase telling him to take it off, or taking it off himself.

  “Have fun, kiddo,” Tommy’s mom said, poking him in the thigh with her toes. “Dinner’s at five thirty, okay?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Tommy said. He didn’t want to assume Chase wanted to spend the next four hours with him; he aimed for dismissive or casual but probably missed the mark. Tommy had very little chill on a good day, much less in the vicinity of a cute boy shining with sunscreen and sweat and beaming welcoming smiles at him. His attempt at chill was nothing more than breathless and higher pitched than usual. “So,” he turned to Chase, trying harder to modulate his voice. “Which way?”

  Chase gestured toward the west. He high-fived Ethan, who was digging himself a “pool” at the edge of the water.

  The long stretch of beach curving ahead of them was empty. They walked at the waterline so the water rushed over their feet, swallowing their footprints.

  “Do you all live near each other?”

  “No. We all live in Michigan. But my Aunt Sharon and Uncle Nick live up in Cheboygan. My other aunt lives in Gaylord.”

  “A northern family, I see. And you guys?”

  “Grand Rapids,” Chase said.

  “You really made a trek to get here—all of you, I mean.”

  “You live closer, I assume?”

  “We live in the metro Detroit area. Maybe like a two-and-a-half hour drive.”

  Chase’s hand brushed against Tommy’s as they walked. He resisted the urge to lean closer for more accidental touches.

  “So, not exactly close by either,” Chase said, looking at Tommy over the top of his sunglasses. Tommy shrugged. The sun lit all of the gold hues in Chase’s eyes, giving the impression that his hazel eyes were illuminated from within.

  “True. I guess I was thinking about how far from me all of you live.” They stepped over an outcrop of stones and dunes, then waded to the beach beyond it. Up
ahead was another public beach. “I’ve never been farther from home than this.”

  “Really?” Chase slowed, pushed up his sunglasses, and rested them in his wind-tousled his hair. It was less styled than it had been yesterday and hung over his forehead. Beautifully thick, it looked soft to the touch.

  Tommy shrugged. “My parents are always running around, juggling the kids and activities and working.”

  “Well, what about you?”

  “I’m not about to take a scenic tour of the state on my own,” Tommy said. He bumped into Chase, daring and playful.

  “No, I meant, aren’t they busy with you too? You made it sound like…” Chase turned to keep walking. Tommy followed, waiting for the rest of his sentence. He tried to curb his impatience when it seemed that none was forthcoming.

  “Like what?” he prompted finally.

  “Like you’re on the outside.” Chase shrugged. “Never mind, I shouldn’t have—that sounded judgmental, and it’s not my business.”

  “Hey, it’s okay.” Tommy touched Chase’s arm, fingers fleeting, just the barest memory of Chase’s warm skin to tuck away. “You’re not wrong.” He paused to clear his throat. “I mean, it’s not quite like that. I have a lot of activities, too, and I can drive. So I usually do my own thing and help them out when they need me. So, I’m not, like, neglected or anything.” He rolled his eyes. Ethan and Hannah were a handful, and he did sometimes resent how much his parents depended on him. He wasn’t about to spill his resentments at a stranger’s feet, even if that stranger was crazy hot and interested.

  “What do you do?”

  “Oh, god, I was doing so much.” Tommy ticked items off on his fingers. “Theater, school newspaper, yearbook committee, National Honor Society, which of course includes service hours.”

  “Holy crap, when do you sleep? Why would you do that to yourself?”

  Tommy laughed, taking the teasing as it was meant. “To get into a good college. That’s what my parents kept telling me. To pad my applications and all that.”

  “Did you?” Chase stooped to pick up a shell. The beach here was littered with tiny shells, broken and ground down by waves. This one was larger, pink in the center, and unbroken.

 

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