Rewrite the Stars

by Julieann Dove

  “I’m pretty sure.”

  One last fleeting thought entered her mind before she committed herself to the swim. She wasn’t sure why it was this particular one, but it was of the man on the elevator, Mr. Mitchell, sucking in his bottled oxygen. Life had to be better than that.

  “Okay.”

  She placed her gown on the pier and covered her breasts with her hand and forearm, hoping he wouldn’t be able to see anything in the bright light of the moon. There was no chance she was shedding her underwear. She made sure his hand was over his eyes before guiding him to the edge of the dock. All at the same time trying not to look at him and his body.

  “On the count of three.”

  Colin began counting with her: “One, two, three.”

  They both jumped off the pier at the same time and made an enormous splash in the still waters. A bird perched atop the boathouse flew away from the noise. When Claire came up from the water, she looked for Colin. His hand had slipped away from hers after they hit the surface.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Colin heard Claire yelling his name when his head came out of the water. “I’m over here. Wait, I’m coming to get you.”

  “You know I’m unsure of what’s in this water at night.” Fret was in her voice. “I barely could go skinny-dipping when I was small, all of those three times. But Mallory told me the mermaids would save us from being eaten, then. Of course, I got older and wiser to the whole mermaid situation and stopped that foolish ritual. Now I’m happy for that decision, seeing as you were lurking in the tree. Why did you let go of my hand just now?”

  He knew why; he just couldn’t tell her. Holding her hand with her naked by his side kicked up some strong currents inside him. He cheated and had looked at her taking off her gown. The silhouette of her body in the moonlight and how curvy it was sent blood in all the wrong places. The quicker he got into the cool water, the better.

  “I don’t know what happened. Just calm down, or you’ll wake the sharks. You know they sleep at night, right?” he asked in a hushed tone.

  He was close enough now for her to hit him on top of the head. “I’m going to kill you.”

  “Admit it. It feels good, doesn’t it? The cooler currents have come into shore.”

  She tilted her head back into the water, dipping it in as far as her hairline. He saw the outline of her nose and lips as they stayed above the water’s edge, wondering what it’d feel like to kiss her.

  “All right, yes, it does feel good. If I was able to relax, I would think it was something pretty spectacular. The coolness of the water pockets and the bright natural light splicing through the darkness. It’s like something from a magical world. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll imagine we’re being escorted by mermaids, so I don’t feel the sharp teeth of a shark pressing into my ankles.”

  “Okay. Go ahead and try to relax. Imagine mermaids if you’d like. I tell you what, I’ll hold your back so you can float, and I’ll see that nothing gets you.”

  “Float? Then you’d see me. All of me. No, I don’t think so, Mr. Prescott.”

  “I won’t look.” He said it with a slight laugh, although it moved him to think what her breasts might look like floating on top of the water.

  “Ha, that’s a joke.” She paused. “But, come and stay close by me, anyway. If something gets me, you’ll be close enough to pull me from its jaws more quickly.”

  He swam closer to her, reaching out in the dark recesses of the water and brushing against her arm. Thoughts of having accidently touched her in other places sent messages to his mind, thus sending a wave of heat through his already cooling-off body. She situated herself in front of him, holding onto his arms. They were face-to-face with each other. Her wet hair smelled like strawberries.

  “That’s better,” she said.

  He watched as she looked in his eyes. Her lips glistened in the light of the moon. Her hair was completely soaked and pulled back from her face. A smile broke out on her face. He was barely able to make out the dimple on her right cheek that he’d known was there. “You have a pretty smile.”

  “Does that mean you purposely looked at me changing out of my gown and now feel guilty about it? By saying something nice?”

  “Man, has anyone ever paid you a compliment that you didn’t think had an ulterior motive behind it?”

  “Says the guy who climbed up in a tree to watch me swim naked?”

  “Jeez, that was years ago, Claire. We’re grown up now. You’ve definitely grown up.”

  “What does that mean?” She stopped twirling him around in circles.

  “Just that you’ve matured. You’re very pretty. Some might say alluring. Maybe not me, but some might.”

  “Okay. Thank you…I think. And why not you?”

  “Oh, you know. I’ve seen your skinny body—pre-college years. It’s not for me to say something like that. We have history…snakes, frogs…you know.”

  “I see.”

  No, she didn’t. He wanted to say he did find her alluring. Captivating even. He wanted to tell her how she made him feel at ease, or how at dinner he thought several times that she’d caught him watching her, or even how the sight of her body made him wish they were two different people in a different time.

  “I dare you to swim to the beacon.”

  “Now?” He held tighter to her arms. She was drifting from his grasp.

  “Sure.”

  “Okay.” Without hesitation, he swam in the direction of that stupid beacon.

  “Hey, wait, I was kidding. Not tonight,” she yelled out to him.

  It was too late; he was headed for it. Something of a challenge for his male ego. He’d taken up swimming as a sport in college and knew he could do it without a problem. That was, until he heard Claire’s scream.

  “Colin, come quick.”

  He whipped around and did long breaststrokes back to her.

  “Something brushed up against me. God, it’s going to eat me alive! I felt it.” She was hysterical, flailing her arms and panting wildly.

  He finally made it to her. She grabbed his neck and pulled him closer. He noticed she was shaking, her lips even quivering.

  “It’s okay. I’ve got you.” He stroked her hair, trying his best to calm her down.

  “It was something big. I thought it was going to grab my legs and take me under. Colin, I’m serious.”

  He felt her breasts press against his, her breathing rising and lowering rapidly. Her legs had become locked around his waist. He felt his own heart, palpitating like a man who’d just swam thirty laps in less than two minutes. But, it wasn’t from the swim. It was from the touch of her skin on his. He had to get some space between them.

  “Let’s get you out of here. Come on.”

  When they got to shallow water, she un-gripped the vise she had put on him. He escorted her to the sandy beach. The moon temporarily had ducked behind a cloud, making it difficult to see their way back to the pier.

  “Stand here. I’ll go and get your gown.”

  Claire stood there and waited for him to return, her arms crossed in front of her. He was glad for the opportunity to get himself in check before standing close to her again. When he returned with the gown, he’d already put on his shorts. He handed her clothes to her, with his other hand over his eyes. “Here.”

  It took her only a second to get dressed. “You can open your eyes now,” she said quietly.

  He removed his hand and looked at her. Even in the dimmer light, she looked so much better with nothing on. He knew he better get it together before morning came and he had to face her in the daylight. His mother had always told him how transparent his feelings about things were—it invariably showed on his face.

  “I might actually get some sleep after all that exercise in screaming and flailing for my life.”

  He laughed and took her hand in his. It felt like the natural thing to do now that they’d done it in the water, but she seemed puz
zled by it. Her big brown eyes squinted, almost questioning his. It was too late to let it go. He figured if she didn’t want to hold his, she would’ve let go first. But she didn’t; she squeezed harder.

  They returned to the creaking back porch door. Before she grabbed for it, he took her other hand and held it in his. “I had a great time with you tonight, Claire. Even if all you did was scream like a girl and think an eel was eating at your legs.”

  “That was an—”

  Before she could finish her sentence, he lightly pulled her by the neck and kissed her. Her lips were moist and chilled like the water they’d just come from—salty, too. He wasn’t sure whether she was going to kiss him back or smack him for getting fresh. When he pulled away, he saw her eyes were still closed. She seemed more relaxed than earlier. He’d wagered correctly. Claire Ashton was receptive to what this summer could turn out to be for the both of them.

  Chapter Five

  The Guesthouse

  Claire watched as Jason rubbed Mallory down with suntan lotion the next day. Her fortunate friend was stretched out on a large blue blanket she shared with her boyfriend. Paperback books and magazines were scattered at her head, and she wore a tiny red bikini; it looked fabulous on her. Jason wore a pair of neon-orange-colored swimming trunks. They went well with his tanned body and black hair.

  It was eleven o’clock, the worst time for the sun’s rays to burn fair-skinned people. If Claire didn’t watch it, she’d be holed up in her room with sun poisoning like the first summer she and her mother spent there.

  “Mallory, can you rub some of this SPF 45 on my back?” Claire rose to get the bottle of lotion from her bag.

  “I can,” Colin said before Mallory could answer.

  Claire hoped her gasp and enlarged eyes had gone unnoticed. She’d purposely slept through breakfast that morning in order not to see him. She wasn’t sure what took place last night, out there on the back porch steps. But whatever it was, it felt absolutely wonderful. Surely it was a fluke. When the sun came up, he’d realize he was just bored and saw whether he could get a girl out of her clothes. Whatever it was, she couldn’t go to sleep for at least another hour after she’d showered and changed her gown. Thoughts of him persisted: his naked body, the way it felt in the water pressed against hers. His lips on top of hers—how warm they were and how it sent a jolt of current throughout her body. Had he meant to do that? To kiss her? Was he imagining someone else? Some preppy girl he’d dated in college and now was regretting he had to move back to the States, forcing him to leave her? It was nothing. Just a full-moon sort of phenomenon. She wasn’t sure what it had meant, but it had her head swimming with fairy-tale possibilities.

  “I don’t know, Claire. The last time I asked Colin to rub lotion on me, he poured it in my hair.” Mallory sat up on her beach blanket and adjusted her bikini straps.

  “Be quiet, Mallory. You’re my sister—of course I’m going to not pay attention and some might accidently get in your hair.”

  “A little bit? Half of my bottle went in it. I had to shampoo it five times to get all of it out. I smelled like cocoa butter for a week.” She seemed surprised at her brother’s failing memory.

  “I was ten years old. I think I’m a little more mature these days.”

  He stepped over to where Claire sat on her pink-striped beach towel. Her mother had bought it two years ago for her at one of those downtown stores. The beach house was the only place she could use it. The washer in the apartment building back home was too small to fit much more than it, one cycle at a time.

  “Only a little bit, brother,” she teased. “It’s a fact that boys mature at a rate of ten years or so behind girls.”

  “Lay on your stomach. I’ll make sure to cover all the hot spots.” He ignored his sister’s dig and picked up the bottle of lotion, squirting some on his hand and waiting for Claire to turn over.

  “Eww…sounds kinky,” Mallory said. “Better watch out, Claire. I’m not sure of this guy since he’s come back from the motherland. Hot spots?”

  Claire’s face suddenly felt like the end of a hot poker. She was more than happy to hide it in the cotton fibers of her towel.

  Her body jerked a little when he laid his hand on her back with the cold lotion. She was tense and rigid, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

  “Is it too cold?”

  “No,” she said, with her head still buried deep in embarrassment and the pink terry cloth.

  With each stroke, her limbs loosened, like limp noodles. The beats of her heart equalized and her mind calmed down from racing. If no one could have heard her, she would’ve let out a moan. He methodically rubbed her with steady, even pressure caresses. He was a master in lotion rubbing. Her mind wandered to other things he was probably a master in.

  Upon hearing Melanie’s voice, Claire rose up quickly. She felt she’d been caught doing something wrong. At least no one could hear her thoughts or they’d have gasped in disbelief. Little ol’Claire with an imagination for romance. Usually she was the one spouting facts of science, telling of the latest breakthroughs in modern medicine. Maybe that’s why guys in her classes never gave her the time of day.

  Melanie stood on the pier, looking down at the four of them. The pungent smell of her signature cologne wafted down to the beach. She was dressed in cool linen pants; her blouse was lavender and flowing. Dark, round sunglasses hid her eyes from sight. “I’m going into town with your daddy to some salvage shops to find antiques. I’ll be back in time for dinner.”

  Claire remembered her mother saying once that Melanie hated to shop for antiques and was glad when Bridgett and Claire arrived so he wouldn’t ask her to go. Now there was no reason for her to find, other than the cold, hard fact she didn’t want to. And no one, it seemed, ever spoke about what the cold, hard truth was. Except for Mr. Prescott.

  “Have fun,” Claire yelled up at her.

  “Thank you, dear. I’ll try.” She turned to walk away and stopped abruptly. “Colin, do you have any protection on?”

  “Gee, Mom, don’t you think you’re getting a bit too personal, there?” He grinned.

  She must have realized what he meant when Mallory and Jason busted out laughing. She waved her arm. “Oh, you know what I mean.”

  “Sure, and yes, Mom, I always have protection on. In case you ever wanted to know.”

  Claire buried her head into the towel again. She figured Melanie ran away as embarrassed as she felt. Colin could be such a handful at times. Someone Claire could never imagine would’ve given her the time of day. Especially with the family crest of wealth backing him and her having nothing. She always felt like the stray his parents put up with in order to check the box of “charity” off their lists to do.

  “Why do you like to put people on the spot?” Claire looked up at him, hoping the redness had vanished from her face by now.

  “What do you mean? She’s my mother. And it hardly put her on the spot. She knows me.”

  “What does that mean?” She rose up on her elbows.

  Colin put the lotion back in her bag and sat on the sand next to her. “Just that I like to kid around.”

  “Is that what happened last night? Were you kidding around?” She asked with her voice lowered, amazed she was even questioning it. She’d turned and seen Jason talking to Mallory and figured it was safe to talk about their moment last night. It was driving her crazy with what it meant to him.

  “Do you want to go for a ride? Go get some of that Italian ice you used to crave and beg your mother to buy you?”

  The mention of her mother made her heart ache. Not that the pain she’d felt about the loss of her mother wasn’t there before he’d said her name; it was always there, like a dull toothache that never went away. With the sudden shift from what happened last night to thoughts of her mom, she took a second to collect her thoughts. To try to not remember those times of eating Italian ice with her mom at the little shop downtown in Kelly’s Cove.

>   “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up memories.” He must have seen her expression change.

  “No, I’m good. Sure, let’s go and get one. My skin is starting to feel tingly out in this hot sun.” She stood and gathered her things, folding her towel and stuffing it in her large beach bag. “Mallory, do you and Jason want to go for some Italian ice?”

  She didn’t see Colin standing behind her, waving his hands and shaking his head no.

  “Nah, I don’t guess so. I’m determined to have a nice bronze color at the end of this vacation. It makes wearing dresses so much more appealing. But you go and have a good time, Claire.”

  Claire turned to Colin, who was already up on the grass waiting for her. “Okay, but we’ll be right back, I’m sure. I brought that new book by Ned Stiller with me, and since the air conditioner is working now, I thought I’d grab a window seat and read later.”

  Claire ran to catch up to Colin. This was turning out to be a better vacation than she imagined. An unexpected kiss, Italian ice, and the chance to read a book for pleasure and not one for school.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  “Why exactly is it again that you need to buy two cups of ice?” Colin asked Claire, sitting at a little table outside of Kelly’s Ice Cove. They also sold soft serve ice cream and select pastries.

  She licked the back of her spoon, staring at both cups in front of her. One had a mound of white ice and the other had a mound of pale red in it. “Because they refuse to mix flavors and I need equal amounts of lemonade and raspberry on my spoon.”

  He shook his head, scooping a heap of his blue mystery flavor on to his spoon. It was a toss-up between blue raspberry and cotton candy. The sweetness and coldness made him feel like a kid again. One with a huge brain freeze.

  “Are you all right?”

  He stopped pressing his temples long enough to answer her. “I ate it too fast. I’ll recover in just a second.”

  She laughed shamelessly. “Ha-ha, you got a brain freeze.”