The Ocean (3 page)

Alex came and stood in the doorway with his arm above his head leaning on the door jam.

“Um, yeah. Did I forget to mention? Oliver’s in there now and I cal dibs.” Damn it! Dibs. He had me now! I glared at him. He must have known before he went into his room.

“Dibs doesn’t matter if I’m here when he comes out,” I laughed in my evilest laugh, though it was pretty pathetic.

“You’re such a brat.” He gave me a cheesy grin and went back into his room.

“And you love me anyway!” I cal ed after him. Just then the door opened as Oliver stepped out. I startled him.

“I’ve got to get used to a ful house again, I guess,” he mumbled under his breath. I stepped back out of his way to let him pass and took my turn in the bathroom. I came back to my room and took out my make-up case. I put on eye shadow, mascara, lip gloss, and blush. I surveyed my face. It was my mother’s face. As a little girl I’d looked at pictures of her when she was my age. I had her almond eyes, so dark brown that they looked black; olive skin that was sun kissed now, from a summer in Indiana; and an oval face. It was my face, but it was hers also. I even had her hourglass figure shape. I felt guilty for looking so much like her. There was a knock at my door and Alex entered.

“You ready?” He was wearing a plain navy t-shirt and khaki cargo shorts with boat shoes.

“Yeah, I’m ready.” I slipped on my sandals, and we were heading down the stairs. Alex watched my confused expression; I expected Oliver to be sitting on the couch but he wasn’t.

“He said he had some errands to run. He took Bessie, so wherever we go we need to walk.”

“So much for Treasure Island,” I huffed.

“Let’s go toward the Pier instead.”

After an afternoon of walking down the beach col ecting broken shel s and looking for dolphins, we watched the sun inch closer to the horizon. Once it sank out of sight, we began our trek back home. As we rounded the path to the pier, we came upon a large group of kids. I walked close behind Alex. We walked past them, and I kept my eyes on the ground, but I felt their curious eyes on me.

“Alex, dude, where are you going?” A big beefy blond guy was addressing him. “And who’s your chick? She’s hot!” My face burned. Alex paused, and I hid behind him looking away.

“Chiz, this is my sister; show some respect! We’re just heading home. What are you guys getting into?” The tension of his first statement gone from his voice, Alex was always so cool and col ected.

“Sister, huh?” I felt his eyes boring a hole through me. “We’re just heading up this way for some late evening surfing and a bonfire. You should join us.”

“I’m not sure. Gia?”

Before I could even answer, I heard, “Yeah, Gianna, you should come.” I looked to find the other voice. Travis stepped forward next to Chiz. Alex shrugged at me like it was my decision. I shrugged back. So it was decided; we were lemmings. We turned and fol owed the group.

Some girls laid a few blankets out, and I sat by Alex. Other girls sat on the other side of him, and he entertained his subjects. I interjected occasional y just to remind him that I was listening to the crap he was spitting to the girls. I had one of my ear buds in with the music to keep me company. What I was real y trying to do was keep from watching Travis surf in the distance. I was failing miserably.

“Yeah, state champs two years in a row. I don’t know how they’re going to do it this year.” I laughed at his modesty. I’d lost track of Travis.

“You’re gonna take us to the state championship this year.” Chiz and the other boys that had been surfing came and joined us at the blankets. Alex nodded his head “yes” and they did a knuckle bump secret handshake.

The empty spot beside me was suddenly taken. His leg brushed up against mine as Travis shifted to get more comfortable. Though he was dressed, his leg was stil wet: it made me shiver. He handed me his hoodie without even looking at me. I put it on and sat looking straight ahead for a short while. Final y, I turned and looked at him. He was smiling his bril iant smile. He leaned back on his elbows as if he didn’t have a care in the world. I turned back to the conversation that was stil going on. They were now talking about plays and how to defeat their opponents. Boring.

“Our last night on parole,” Travis leaned in and whispered in my ear. He was so close to me it sent chil s down my spine. “We might as wel be strategizing how we’re going to work the prison yard tomorrow.” I chuckled so quietly that only he heard it. He continued, “Though it wouldn’t be so bad, as long as they give us plastic spoons so we can make shivs.”

“OK, that comment just got your shoelaces taken away.” I giggled softly again.

“Aw, shoelaces are overrated. So what’s your story?” His question took me by surprise.

“You didn’t get our story from Alex already?” I asked, not real y knowing what he was asking.

“Yeah, yeah. From Indiana, he plays sports, doesn’t have a girl. So what’s your story?” He winked at me.

“I’m from Indiana, I hang out, and I don’t have a girl either.” I winked back at him.

“You’re gonna make me ask aren’t you?” He looked at his hand that was digging in the sand and then letting it fal slowly between his fingers.

“So what’s your story?” I asked, taking the focus off me.

“Lived here my whole life with my mom and my little sister, sports, and hanging out, I don’t have a girl either. I guess we have stuff in common.” He took the other ear bud and put it in his ear. He started moving his head with the music. “A lot of stuff in common.” He approved.

At some point the other kids managed to start the bonfire, and Alex gravitated away from us, so I no longer was sitting by him. Travis had taken over my phone and was now DJ-ing for the two of us. He would make a comment about my old school rap versus my punk rock and pop music. I would give him informative facts about the bands. We looked at my pictures, and I told him about my smal clique of friends back in Indiana. I was never as popular as Alex was. I was popular by association. I felt comfortable with Travis, but I was also unbelievably nervous. I’d never felt this way around anyone before. I wasn’t my normal witty self. I held back, and I regretted it immediately. As the night wound down, people began to leave. I took my phone from him to check the time; it was nine forty-five.

“Can I see that again?” he whispered. I handed it over. He played with the menu on it and pul ed me close to him. With his hand resting against my hip, he told me to smile and held my phone at his arm’s length away from us to take our picture. He played with my phone a little more and handed it back to me. “I’m in your favorites, and I hope you don’t mind; I texted myself that picture. You’l be speed dial three in my phone, if you were wondering.” He leaned closer to me and grinned, “I’l see you tomorrow.” He stood and walked away. I sat there staring after him, dumbly unable to process what had just happened. He was leaving. That meant the night was over.

Chiz gave us a ride home in his monster SUV with great big tires and a license plate that said “DA CHIZ.” He made me uncomfortable as he kept watching me in the rearview mirror. Alex didn’t seem to notice, which annoyed me; he was my protector.

Bessie wasn’t in the drive, so we went in and got ready for bed. It looked like we weren’t the only ones trying to avoid something, or someone.

Of All the Places in the World

Travis

I tossed and turned. I couldn’t believe my luck! She hadn’t been a tourist. She was Alex’s sister. I ran my mind over al our conversations, trying to get a handle on Gianna. Gia was what Alex cal ed her. His mom had died. I filed that under things not to bring up. His sister was a junior; she was funny.

What else had he said? I racked my brain. Before I met her, Alex had seemed insignificant almost. He was a typical jock who came in at the last hour with promises to save the team this season from the embarrassment of the last eight years. Chiz liked him right away, so that had warned me to keep my distance. Chiz didn’t like anyone who didn’t benefit him. Why was I thinking about Chiz? I wanted to think about Gia. What else did I remember? He hated their dad, probably another forbidden topic. This Alex hadn’t said; he just cal ed him by his first name, and his voice was thick with contempt when he spoke of him.

Gia. The day I’d seen her on the beach, I felt my heart would explode; it pounded out of my chest. As luck would have it, Mason threw the bal that far out of my reach. I stil hadn’t found out if he’d thrown it like that on purpose or not. From the time she had stepped onto the pier, I was keenly aware of her. Sitting on the sand, she’d looked so sad. She was entranced by the waves off the Gulf. I’d yel ed for her to look out twice before she actual y did the third time. Then when she fel over, her legs sprawled; she had legs that went on forever. When she looked up, so fragile, I imagined kissing her and what it would feel like. She caught me sizing her up; she was quick. I liked that too. I wil ed her to look back at me when she left. Final y she did. Gia.

I couldn’t believe it when I saw her leaving the beach with Alex tonight. Until that moment, I hadn’t put it together, that she might actual y be real and that I might see her again. Chiz and Mason had begged me to go surfing. I’d have preferred staying home and hanging out with Mom on her only day off for two weeks. But she told me to enjoy my last day before school. I now was forever grateful. I couldn’t focus on surfing though. I rode a few waves, and I snuck off to my car to change. I was nervous about the way Chiz was looking at her. Alex would probably approve of his friend going for her.

I hadn’t been able to think of anything to talk about. Stupid prison jokes. But she played along. She showed me her pictures. She didn’t have many friends, but I didn’t see any boys groping her in her pictures. That was what I was real y looking for. Yeah, there were guys but none that had hands al over her, none that looked at her the way I wanted to look at her. Her style seemed simple. The only piece of jewelry she wore was a ring that said LOVE. I put in my ear buds and remembered some of the songs we had that were the same. I’d make a play list tomorrow, but for now I picked those songs and played them as I stared at my ceiling.

School. It would be here before I knew it, so long as I could go to sleep. The plan. What was the plan? I didn’t have a plan. I would wing it. I was real y good at winging it. I final y fel asleep after replaying the evening over and over in my head and looking at the picture on my phone a dozen times.

There was a soft buzzing sound. At first in the distance, a low buzz, buzz, buzz. Then, as I realized it wasn’t supposed to be in my dream, the buzz became louder and louder as I woke up. I heard my mom talking. What did she say? Late? My eyes flashed open.

“I knew that would get your attention; you need to leave in five minutes.” I jumped up, ran to my bathroom, brushed my teeth, splashed water through my hair and on my face. I rummaged through the clothes on my floor for a pair of unwrinkled jeans and grabbed a shirt from my drawers. Socks and shoes went on as I stumbled down the stairs. My mom sat eating breakfast with my sister. She tossed me a banana, and I was out the door. I’d put my book bag in my car two days before because I knew I’d forget it if I didn’t. It was a good thing, too, because I was at school before I even thought of it.

I found my locker, put my stuff up, and grabbed a notebook for my first class. I slammed my door shut, and there she was a few lockers away from me in a camo army green short pleated skirt and a black cotton top. Was I real y this lucky? I stepped sideways toward her.

“Hey,” I smiled hopeful y. She glanced over, concentrating first and then instantly smiling when she recognized me.

“Hi.” She put up her messenger bag; it was army green with buttons, patches, and marker drawings on it. It looked vintage.

“What’s your first class?” I was hoping for chemistry.

“English. Then Algebra 3, and then Spanish.” She didn’t even look at her schedule.

“Then lunch?” I asked, hopeful again.

“Yeah, I think so.” She was closing her locker now with a spiral notebook and a worn composition notebook in her hands.

“Alright, I’l see you then.” I turned as the five-minute warning bel sounded. I had to be across the building on the third floor by the time the next bel rang. I made myself walk casual y. I looked back at her as she disappeared into the herd of students. Once I knew she was gone, I ran. I took two steps at a time up the stairs and made it to an empty seat in the middle of the classroom, the only one left, just as the bel rang. In my rush not to be late to my first class of the first day of school, I didn’t bother looking around to see if any of my friends were in my class.

“You were M.I.A. this weekend. Why didn’t you return my cal s?” I knew that voice. Jil ian. Gorgeous, sexy, hot Jil ; and before last spring I honestly thought she was the girl I’d probably marry after high school. She had been my girlfriend since the seventh grade. But I had final y realized she took what she wanted and didn’t care who she hurt. In her last scheme (or the last scheme that I knew about) a girl had broken her leg, and a teacher had been fired, but Jil ian had landed on top of the cheerleaders’ pyramid with the title of head cheerleader. When I realized what she had done, I broke up with her. Only recently, after she’d seemed to have made some amends, was I speaking to her casual y. I didn’t real y want to tel her how much she disgusted me. Just because she was mean, didn’t mean I had to be. I shrugged and looked toward the teacher who was reading off names. He rambled something about lab partners; I looked at Jil and groaned, realizing he’d just paired us together. Pleased, she smiled.

“Wel , the least you can do is walk me to my next class, English. You at least owe me that. I’m going to carry you for this A.” She was opening her book to the page the teacher had just instructed us.

“I think you can find it on your own, and for the record,” I turned, leaned across the table looking her in the eye so she knew I was serious, “I don’t owe you ANYTHING. I can take care of my own grade.”

“Travis, please read out loud the first paragraph there.” I held her eye contact until she looked away. Mr. Jackson was looking down at me over his glasses.