Sunshiner

Going to Dayton during the summer was like going on the same vacation over and over again ever year. But it wasn't a bad thing; although I could never expect anything new, it didn't mean I couldn't expect anything exciting. It was the same familiar old town, there were the same familiar old friends…but we always found something fun to do. We didn’t need a huge city or night clubs to find entertainment. We were perfectly happy sitting in our backyards and throwing mud pies at one another. Even at age eighteen, we were still the same.

"The dirt at your house sucks, Johnny Boy," I commented as we sat in the sun, allowing the damp mud to dry on our skin. "It's not mushy enough."

"Well I'll be sure to buy some new dirt next time I go to the store," Johnny Boy snorted and chucked another handful of dirt at me. We had used the hose to make his entire yard a mud hole, and his lawn was now submerged in dark, grimy puddles. I didn't want to envision Johnny Boy's mother's reaction when she saw what we had done to her backyard.

"What do you want to do today?" I asked out of the blue.

"I dunno. We can go to the Lake. Go in our boats. Go get ice cream," Johnny Boy listed off of the top of his head. Those were the exact answers I had been expecting to hear; the activities in Dayton never varied too much. It might have seemed boring to anyone else, but I think that if Dayton was any different I wouldn't love it as much.

Returning to Dayton was like going through a time warp, only I didn't go to crazy places in the future or the past; I always went to the same time, to the same place. Summer was unchanging, untouchable by time. And that's exactly what made it so wonderful to come back to every year. It was my escape from the outside world, it was a way for me to forget everything else going on in my life. It was like childhood again, when all I cared about was what I was having for dessert and where I was going to hide when I played Hide-and-Go-Seek. That time warp, I realize now, always took me back to when I was little. Here, I was a kid forever.

"Let's get ice cream," I said. We both stood up to our feet and began to make our way to the center of town (everyone walked here because cars were pointless since everything was so close together), but as I caught a glimpse of ourselves in one of the windows of his house I stopped in my tracks. "Maybe we should clean up first," I said with a grimace as I stared at my mud-covered reflection.

Johnny Boy just shrugged and reached for the hose. "Okay. But you asked for it."

"Johnny Boy, wait – " But he was already spraying me down.

"Gee. Thanks for that," I said grimly, now dripping wet and freezing cold, despite the blaring sun. But at least I was clean.

Johnny Boy shrugged, "You're welcome," and began to walk down the road.

"Don't you want to get cleaned up, too?" I asked, jogging to catch up to him. Johnny Boy had unnaturally long legs, and no matter how small he tried to make his strides, he always managed to walk at least twice as fast as I could.

"Nah," Johnny Boy replied, pushing his dirty blond hair out of his eyes. "Unlike you, rich-boy, I don’t care about being clean all the time. Besides, my filthiness will show how much of a man I am to the ladies."

I snorted. "Okay, Johnny Boy. Whatever you say."

When we got to the ice cream parlor, somehow – and I had no clue how this ever happened – the cute girl who rung us up was flirting shamelessly with Johnny Boy, who gladly soaked up all of the attention. I honestly had no idea how she could ever find a mud-covered eighteen-year-old boy attractive, especially when I was standing right here. I knew from past experiences with girls (and there were plenty of those) that I was good looking in that sort of disheveled, careless way, the I-don't-need-to-give-a-shit-about-my-looks-but-I'm-still-pretty-damn-hot sort of way. Johnny Boy, on the other hand, was way too tall and needed to put some muscle on those bones, and yet this bubbly brunette was attracted to him like a butterfly to a flower. I couldn't quite understand it, but then again Dayton was rumored to have a few crazies living here.

I was easily distracted from this abnormal display of affection as I glimpsed a flash of gold out of the corner of my eye.

Whatever had run past had done so quickly enough that it was out of sight by the time I had turned my head. However, I was not fooled. "I know it’s you, Candace," I called out in a bored tone.

It took a minute or two, but eventually a tiny blond head peeked out from behind the corner of the fence. "Kasey," she said, a coy smile delighting her lips. "Fancy meeting you here."

I took a few steps away from Johnny Boy and the brunette, who were now making out, to give them more privacy. And to give Candace and I more privacy. "Yeah, it is a funny coincidence, isn't it?" I asked smoothly. "Seeing as how you stalked me here and everything."

"I have no clue what you're talking about," she said, feigning innocence, though her honey eyes would never betray her. In her gaze I could see the trouble she was planning to cause.

"So what prank do you have planned for me today?" I asked casually, sitting down on a nearby bench and swallowed a spoonful of my vanilla and almond ice cream. "Water balloons? Bugs in my pants? Glue in my hair again?"

"Well," Candace began, losing her coy façade and sitting down next to me. She grabbed the ice cream out of my hands and took a bite. I gave her an amused look but did nothing to take it back, and if that surprised her she didn't show it. "Water balloons are unimaginative and sort of boring. I was too lazy to catch any bugs, and I didn't have any glue."

"So you came here to do…?"

"Nothing," she shrugged and ate some more ice cream. "I don't have any pranks planned out for today. I come in peace." She held up a peace sign and giggled at how lame she was being. She was the sort of person who could laugh things off, which was a characteristic that I didn't have and desperately wished I did.

"I don't believe you," I said and took the spoon from her to take another bite. "Are you saying you want a truce or something?" I added with my mouth full.

"Oh, no, Kasey, absolutely not," she laughed loudly. "Are you kidding? It's the third day of summer. I wouldn't give up that easily."

"You've already run out of prank ideas," I pointed out, "and it's not like that's ever happened before. This summer must be full of surprises." My tone was sarcastic and daunting, and the wink I gave her was just the cherry on top. "Who knows, maybe by tomorrow you'll be begging me for mercy and declaring me the prank king."

"Ha! You are so hilarious, Kasey-cakes," she crooned and pinched my cheek. "This is good ice cream," she added randomly. "Can I have the rest of it?"

"Nope," I said cheerily and took the cup back from her. "Get your own."

"Well what flavor is that one?"

"Vanilla and almond."

At my response, she scrunched up her nose. "That's disgusting."

"You just said it was – "

"I always get butterscotch," she said, "and it's always in a cone."

"I know," I said. Candace was a very opinionated person, specifically – and especially – when it came to food. "And you get it with rainbow Jimmies and whipped cream. Do you ever get a different flavor?"

"No," she said.

"Don't you get bored?" I asked. "Why don’t you, I don't know, try other things?"

"I don't want to," she said simply. "And I don't get bored with the things I love. Besides, butterscotch ice cream reminds me of the summers when we were little kids. I like having a reminder sometimes."

She sighed and stared off in the distance, and for a second the amused glint had left her eyes. Her gaze was distant and was almost empty, save for a single forlorn light I saw glittering in her irises. But in a flash that little light was gone, replaced with the familiar fireworks of mischief.

"There's a party tonight on Devil's Island," she piped up.

Devil's Island was appropriately named, for it was where all of the wildest parties took place. We might not have changed much from how we were as children, but the partying tidbit was an inevitable part of growing up. Dayton, despite its small size, was a party place: our parents partied on the same islands we did now, and so did our parents' parents, and so on. It was almost tradition. I think our parents knew that we partied, too – I mean, how couldn't they? – but I think they were kind of okay with it, at least on some level. They knew that we were getting drunk with people we had known for our entire lives, people we could trust, as opposed to random high school kids that we hardly knew.

In Dayton, there was no such thing as house parties, since the houses were so close together we could easily get caught by parents. Although they knew we partied, it didn't mean they liked it. They would gladly ground us all for weeks if they were given the opportunity. We didn't mind the lack of house parties, though; what better place was there to party than an island? There weren't any couches to chill on, but at least we had somehow managed to get a ping pong table out there so that we could play beer pong. We even had a few electric torches to light the place up. And there weren't any rooms for people to hook up, but there was a closed-off section of Devil's that provided a bit of privacy. It was an expanse of a large flat rock, almost like at the top of a cliff, and it was located right under the stars. It would probably be a romantic spot were it not for the fact that the couple hooking up was always drunk out of their minds.

The island was located in the back of the Lake, blocked off by the tangles of lily pads so that only the small boats – the ones that we had – could make it through. This made it safe from the parents and the cops, or at least for the most part. I had heard stories of the cops crashing a few parties, but out of my two summers of partying, nothing like that had ever happened.

"Who's the one throwing the party?" I asked after a minute.

"My team."

I wanted to scoff at the fact that she referred to them as her team, as if they still belonged to her, but I refrained from doing so. Besides, it was probably true. After Candace had left three years ago, they were like lost puppies. Candace's cousin Robert took over for a bit, but he was an asshole and no one liked him, so when Candace came back – even more scheming and hotter than imaginable – they were glad to take her back, despite the fact that she was so bossy and controlling all of the time.

It suddenly occurred to me that Candace had never been to a Dayton party. We had started the party trend two years ago, the summer after she left, so she never had the opportunity. I could understand now why she was so excited for it: it was a new adventure for her. As much as Candace loved going back to old favorites, such as her ice cream flavors, she loved trying new things. It created an adrenaline rush for her, and she was addicted to adrenaline as if it was a drug.

But the problem with the fact that Candace's team was throwing a party was that we weren't welcome. They hated us, and we hated them.

"Why are you inviting my team, anyway?" I asked incredulously. Maybe she wanted us all to get in a fight. Maybe she was planning an ultimate prank. Maybe –

"I'm not," she said bluntly. "I'm only inviting you."

I was shocked at her words, and how shamelessly she uttered them, but before I could ask a single question she cut me off. She stood up from the bench and turned to face me, her infamous smirk plastered over her golden features. "Be there or be square," she said, flicking my nose gently.

"Do you even know what that means?" I asked. Candace had a tendency to use sayings she didn’t know the meaning of; for example, she used to believe that absence makes the heart grow fatter.

"It means that if you don't show up, I'll pull a prank on you that's so nasty you won't be able to piss properly for a week," she said, and then with a wink she walked off.

The worst part was I knew she wasn't joking. But I didn't want to show up at that party; it would be awkward, not to mention a bit dangerous. There were at least six guys on Candace's team, all of whom wanted to kick my ass after years of me torturing them with pranks. But did I really have a choice? When Candace wanted something, she would be sure she got her way. And if she didn't, then there would be very painful consequences on my part.

"You better not be a square!" Candace called over her shoulder. I sighed; it was decided then. Personally, I liked the way I peed and I would rather not have that ruined by the dangerous hands of Candace Harlow.

As much as I hated to admit it, I couldn't help but stare at her ass as she walked off, and at the way her hips swayed in a delicate S-motion with each step she took. And, as the distance between us increased, I realized that she had stolen my ice cream.