Sunshiner

Lesneski was right; Candace did look different. Very different. Last time I had seen her she had been so much of a tomboy that people who didn't know her would not be able to tell that she was a girl. Her sandy blond hair had been unattractively short and she always wore clothes that were two sizes too big for her. People could only be certain of her gender if she was in a bathing suit. And that wasn't because she had a curvy figure – no, she was as flat as a board in middle school. It was because of the suit she wore. Since the day I met her, Candace always, always wore a red-and-white striped bathing suit. I don't know why, nor did I ever bother to ask. She was just the sort of person that had a very specific taste in things.

When we were smaller, the bathing suit was one of those tiny little one-pieces you see on little girls, the ones with the frills and the bows and all of that. Eventually she lost the frills and moved on to a normal one-piece, though the candy cane pattern still remained. Finally, when we were thirteen, she had gone as close as she ever would to wearing a bikini and bought what was called a tankini, one of those weird girl bathing suits that was two pieces but had an extra long top that covered her belly. But she never, ever wore a simple bikini. I had never envisioned Candace as insecure – she was always too confident, even to the point of being haughty – but now, looking back, I could assume that she had been around boys so much that she was self-conscious about her body.

Now, though, that had all changed. Candace Harlow was wearing one of the smallest red-and-white bikinis I had ever seen and if I believed in God then I would most definitely be thanking Him right now.

The past three summers had been good to her. Maybe a little too good. She had long since grown out of her skinny prepubescent body and now she had all the curves and arcs in all of the right places. Her once boy-looking hair now fell past her shoulders in twirling sandy blond locks, and I could swear that from here I could see some makeup adorning her eyes. Makeup. On Candace Harlow. Unbelievable. I wouldn't have believed it was her were it not for her candy cane bikini.

"Are you going to go up to her, or what?" Johnny Boy said, nudging me in the back.

"He's too scared," Lesneski said with a smirk.

"Fuck off," I said and then, maybe a little too confidently, I began to walk towards the dock where Candace was laying out in the sun.

I could feel my heart pounding louder and louder with each step I took. I had always felt comfortable around Candace as a kid, even when we hated each other; we had always been on the same level, seen things from the same perspective. But now I was a guy and she was very much a girl. An attractive girl, at that. Things were different.

What the hell am I thinking? I asked myself angrily. Fucking hormones. This was Candace I was talking about here. The same girl that used to dig for worms with me, the girl I used to throw mud-filled water balloons at. Things hadn't changed from since when we were kids. Candace was still a stupid girl with cooties.

Smirking at the thought, I strode up onto the dock, and before I allowed myself to begin brewing up some second thoughts I found myself standing right next to her. My shadow fell onto her freckled face, and from the way she scrunched up her nose I could assume that she noticed the disappearance of the sun. I wasn't sure if she saw me at all, since she was still wearing sunglasses.

"Kasey Ray," she suddenly said and an all-too familiar smirk flickering across her tanned face. So she did see me. "I almost didn't recognize you."

Her surprisingly silky voice caught me off guard. For some reason, I had expected us to act as if we were ten again; she would stand up, throw sand in my face and then call me a few names. I had been counting on that prediction so much that the fact that such a simple greeting was actually shocking.

"You gonna stand there or are you gonna do something, Kasey Ray?" she daunted.

So I had been wrong: the ten-year-old girl was still in there somewhere. Even though she didn't throw stuff at me or start screaming, I could hear the familiar mischief laced in her words. Candace was a force of nature, like a hurricane or a thunder storm. A characteristic like that was just too powerful to be suppressed and lost.

"What are you doing here?" I said bluntly, sounding much like my old self.

She sat up from her laying position, a genuine grin spreading across her face now. She pulled off the Aviators and placed them on her head, revealing her wide honey-colored eyes. They were sparkling in a way that made me think she was up to something. "I'm sun tanning, actually, in case it wasn't obvious," she informed me, raising her delicate eyebrows and looking very matter-of-fact. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here."

"What a coincidence. So do I," she smiled and tilted her head to the side, almost in a playful manner.

"Do you really think that you can come back to Dayton, just like that?" I asked. I didn't care about how rude I sounded. Like I said before, summer always started where we left off the previous year. Candace and I had left off way back in eighth grade. Even though we had been friends at that point, it wasn't like we had ever started being polite to one another. It just wasn't in our nature. "Especially after three years of ditching this place?"

"Well, let's see," she said thoughtfully. "Last time I checked, my house is still intact. And I still have ownership rights over it. So…yes. I suppose I can do that."

There were times when Candace absolutely infuriated me, and this was one of those times. Boys were always straightforward when they were angry: if two guys were in an argument, they'd get in a fight, throw a few punches, and that would be that. Their problems were settled and they were friends by the next day. We expressed our anger in a simple, understandable way.

But what girls did just pissed me off. Girls, especially girls like Candace, liked to use words. They would taunt you subtly and their blows could hurt much worse than a simple punch. And that's exactly what Candace was doing right now. She basically just told me that I don't own this town and she could do whatever the hell she wanted; which, ironically, was exactly what she used to tell me when we were warring leaders during the Prank Wars.

"Whatever," I shrugged, trying to play it off cool as if I had barely even heard what she said. "It's not like you're going to have any friends this summer, anyway. Good luck getting invited out to the parties."

"Oh really?" she asked and finally got to her feet. "That's interesting, because I already have Fin and Quinn following me around like lost puppies." Quincy and Finley Moore, possibly the most unfortunately names kids out of all of us (and those were their real names, not nicknames), were identical twins, though they may as well have been Siamese since they were always together. I had never liked them. As kids, they were always by Candace’s side; they were the perfect sidekicks and enjoyed torturing me as much as Candace did.

She nodded over her shoulder, and I followed her gaze to see both said boys hanging out by the slushy vendor. Upon seeing Candace waving to them, they grinned and returned her wave. Some things would never change, I guess.

"What, are you planning to get your team back together or something?" I laughed, and I felt a surge of happiness as I saw the irritation shine in her eyes.

"As a matter of fact, yes, I am," she replied, trying to keep her voice level.

I snorted. "Good luck with that. Three people make up one hell of a team."

"Whoever said there were only three of us?" she smirked. At that she put on her flip flops and reached down to grab her towel and clothes, and then she spun on her heel and walked away. "You're going to be taking a very long shower tonight, Kasey," she called over her shoulder without turning around.

"What are you talking about?" I demanded, but as the words left my mouth three guys popped up out of nowhere and began to close in on me at an alarmingly fast pace. There were two things I noticed about them: they all used to be loyal members of Candace's team and they were all holding water guns.

And as my luck would have it, they were water guns filled with paint.

"Get 'im, boys," Candace called, now a safe distance away. Before I could dodge out of the way, I became covered from head to toe in sticky red, blue and green paint as it splattered against my clothes as if I was a fucking canvas or something. All I could do was squeeze my eyes shut and pray to the God that I still didn't believe in that I would someday be able to get Candace back for this.

When I was done being assaulted by the rainbow, the only thing I could hear was Candace's loud laughter intermingled with the hooting of the boys. Wiping the paint out of my eyes, I glared murderously at her, which only made her laugh even harder.

"You think I could forget about that kiss, Kasey?" she shouted haughtily, a grin still plastered over her face. "Now we're even. The Prank War is on."

"I will get you back for that, Candace," I growled. I was going to call her a few profanities, but there were little kids around, as well as their parents. All of whom, by the way, were laughing at me.

"Consider it a date!" she replied and then ran off, her team of boys following her, still pointing and laughing obnoxiously at me.

It had been ten long years since the Prank War had started but absolutely nothing had changed. And I knew, without a doubt in my mind, that I still hated Candace Harlow. And I most definitely would be keeping my promise – I would get her back for that.