Soria Girl

Ren called me up the next morning and asked if I wanted to go to the beach with him. I said yes, of course, thinking that maybe – just maybe – I could muster up the courage to tell him I was moving…then he told me that Luke and Brendan were going too. Oh well.

Better to make the best of it…

And what better way to spend my last week in Claymore than driving down to St. Augustine with a skinny-as-shit best friend-boy, his mom, an Italian kid who weighs twice as much as he looks, and a surfer-dude bassist whose board took up half the space in the car?

There is no better way.

At least, not in my book.

So Ren’s mom agreed to drive all of us on a 45-minute road trip to St. Augustine. It was basically a carpool thing – she picked Ren up first (duh, he was her son), then Luke, since he had a surfboard that had to go in first, then me, and finally Brendan, since he lived the farthest from any of us.

The ride was pretty entertaining, despite me still being really pissed off about the whole move; Brendan led us into an enticing chorus of “99 Bottles of ‘Dew on the Wall,” which annoyed the crap out of Ren. It was pretty funny to watch him bang his head against the window while he kept trying to get him into it (“C’mon, man! You ain’t even trying!”). So much less awkward than sitting in a stuffy truck with my dad.

But I had to wonder if it’d feel the same if they knew I was moving.

…Oh well. What was done was done. It didn’t matter.

When we got there, the first thing we did was pile out and lug as much as we could to the sand, dumping the towels and chairs and crap down.

Brendan had initially tossed the umbrella down, but then he took off, running down to the water.

“Brendan!” I yelled, a pathetic attempt to slow him down.

He kept on running and didn’t look back. I shouldn’t have complained.

But it did make things harder, though; it would’ve taken a lot less time to unload the car if he helped.

When it was all out, we eventually copied him and felt the water over our arms and sea salt in our hair.

It was sad, really. I mean, I guess I could’ve been savoring it and enjoying my last moments, but…sadness overpowers happiness. I’d learned that a long time ago. No matter how hard you can try, there’s always gonna be that persistent tear jerking at your eye.

“Hey there, hot stuff,” Brendan mocked, “I think that’s the most skin I’ve ever seen you show. You’re not half-bad lookin’.”

“Oh, gee, thanks,” I smirked. “That’s good to know.”

He ruffled my hair. If I tried to count how many times he did that in the past year, I’d cry.

“Man, everybody’s all spaced out in the water!” Luke whined, complete with hand gestures. “I can’t surf like that."

“Yell ‘shark’ real loud. That’ll get ‘em out,” Ren smiled.

“Ah, I got it,” Brendan growled, growing a little troll-like smirk. After cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice…

“HOLY SHIT, A SHARK!”

…All I can say is: Thank God Ren’s mom was in the changing room, or else he’d have been outta there.

Nobody responded or looked here, as loud as Brendan yelled. Instead, he shrugged like it was nothing and leaned on Luke’s shoulder for a second in sympathy.

“Sorry, man. I tried,” he sighed.

Luke was still hung up on hearing the s-bomb being dropped so loud. I can’t say I blamed him.

Ren’s mom emerged from the dressing room in a neon-purple one-piece bathing suit and giant sunglasses. The whole getup screamed 80’s, and her poofy dyed-red hair didn’t help her out much.

Brendan nudged Ren’s elbow. “Your mom’s pretty hot.”

He gave our drummer a funny look. “Dude.”

“What’re you kids waiting for? We came here to have fun! Now go! Get in the water!” Mrs. Hawker shooed, unfolding a beach chair. Like hamsters, we scattered away and got what we bargained for: water up our noses.

The water was pretty warm despite it only being early in the summer. It came to me that I hadn’t been at a beach in over a year, and this was the first – and maybe last – time I’d ever be at one in Florida.

Man…

A giant crest of seafoam whacked me from the neck below and sent me tripping backwards. It was pretty scary until I backed into Ren and he held me up.

Oh, wow.

About five years ago I’d be freaking out about cooties, but here I was, turning bright red.

“Careful!” he warned, holding my shoulders. “You could’a killed me.”

“What? How?” I denied, turning to face him.

He smirked. “You could’a tripped a little harder and sent us both underwater.”

“Well, I didn’t, so there.”

He just stood there with a shitfaced grin across his face. He didn’t say a word. He was…just still.

“What’s up with -” I started.

But a big-ass wave came up behind us and knocked the daylights outta me – I was sent hurtling into him; he was sent hurtling backwards, and in the end, we both ended up sitting in the shallowest end of the water.

And for some odd reason, I was on top of him.

“Whoa there,” he gasped, water pulling his short hair down onto his forehead.

I fake-punched him. He, in turn, shoved me off and stood up, ankle deep in muddy sand. Then he helped me up.

“You’re not a very happy person today,” he added, cocking his eyebrow. “Something up?”

I shook my head, not seizing the opportunity when I should have.

“Are you…sad?”

“No.”

“Mad?”

“No.”

“On your period?”

“What?”

“Are you -”

“No, I heard you! No!”

He stared me down as if to defy.

“If I was on my period, I wouldn’t be in the water.”

Ren laughed a little. “A little defensive, eh?”

I shoved his shoulder. “Shut up.”

“Why are you so mad?” he asked, looking me in the eye. “Seriously. Tell me.”

I should have. Really. I should have told him right then and there that I was moving. But…

“I’m not mad,” I said, unable to meet his eyes.

He stared me down for a few seconds and then let me off the hook.

I splashed him with some ocean and he splashed me back, the droplets getting bigger with each attack. We could’ve done that forever, until the sea had dried up because of us and there was no more water left.

“Incoming!”

Luke whizzed past us, lying on his belly, paddling ahead on his board to seize the tiniest chance of catching a wave. The classic grin on his face, he stood up on his board and tackled the sea like a pro.

Don’t get me wrong – the waves here were far from awesome – but he acted like it was nothing. Then again, I got hit by bigger waves than the one he chose to ride.

Luke reached the end of it and simply jumped off the surfboard into the water, effortlessly.

“Showoff,” Ren chuckled.

“Okay, let’s see you try it,” I challenged.

He smiled at me for a second. “You still have the hots for him, don’t you.”

I could feel my face heat up like the warm Florida air. “Shut up!”

“You do! Oh my God! That’s our bassist!”

“I do not! Shut up!”

He kept teasing me for a while, poking fun at those two weeks last year in which we went out. Yeah, I probably wouldn’t puke if I saw him naked. But personality-wise, we were honestly better off just friends and I really did not want to dwell on the matter. No use ever bringing it up again.

“You can tell me if you do,” Ren added. “I don’t care.”

“I would tell you, but I don’t!” I denied.

I gasped a little when I spied Luke paddling over to us on his board nonchalantly. “Tell ya what?”

Ren opened his mouth to speak, but I grabbed at his side, a ticklish spot I’d discovered around Thanksgiving last year. “Ow!” he shouted, half-laughing.

Luke snorted a big giggle. “Why you gotta touch him like that?” he teased.

I almost slapped him, too, though I didn’t want more “Why are you so mad” questions thrown at me.

“Because,” I growled, shooting Ren a shitty look.

“’Cause why?” Luke persisted, out of breath.

I shrugged.

All of a sudden Brendan came up behind Luke and leaped up onto his shoulders. “Shaaaaaark!” he yelled.

He stumbled forward, almost going under, but his best friend got off just in time. “What the heck…” Luke mumbled, turning around. “Oh. It’s just you.”

Brendan’s face split into a huge grin. “Nooo, I’m a shark!” Then, he proceeded in a few attempts to bite his shoulder. Luke shoved him away.

“Oh my God, dude, you’re gay!” he gasped, running underwater for his life.

Brendan stopped, laughing, wiping the water off his face. “You’re such a buzzkill, man.”

“Pardon me if I don’t like being fondled,” Luke grumbled.

Brendan yanked the surfboard out from under his arm. “Dude, teach me how to surf.”

Luke yanked it back. “No can do, sorry.”

“Why not?!” he whined. “You were just riding that one wave. Why can’t you teach me?”

“’Cause I’m not a good teacher,” Luke explained.

“So? It’s worth a shot,” Brendan shrugged.

- - -

A little while later, Ren and I were up on the sand, relaxing in the sun. Luke caved in and ended up giving Brendan a little surf lesson, the pushover he was. It was almost laughable how easily he submitted.

I wasn’t really talking much; not only was there not a really big need to, but there was also that nagging twitch in my brain that made me upset every time I tried to talk to any one of the guys.

“Why’re you so quiet today?” Ren asked, his arms draped over his knees.

I shrugged. “Dunno.”

“Okay, you’re freakin’ me out now. You’re never quiet when you’re with us. What’s wrong?”

This time he was looking right at me – he squeezed my shoulder and shook me. I don’t think I’d ever been so caught off guard.

“Nothing!” I muttered.

“Seriously!” he countered.

He let go of me and I faced the sea, sighing. I did not wanna do this.

“Ren…how would you react…if I told you I was moving?”

Ren recoiled, going silent. Fidgeting, he asked, “Are you?”

I shrugged. “I…I might be.”

White lie!

He gulped and looked me in the eye. “I’d tell you how much you mean to me.”

A fuzzy feeling shot around my stomach. “Aw.”

“Well…” he smirked. “You know…” He paused and stared at the sky. “Are you moving? Really?”

Once again, I should’ve taken that chance. “I don’t know. Probably. My dad…he’s been getting calls from the navy asking him to get stationed somewhere else.”

Ren gripped me close to him around my shoulders. There was a wet, shirtless teenager pressing against me. Oh my God. Now I knew what all those girls who shopped at Allister felt like.

“Man, that’d suck. I really don’t want you to move,” he sighed.

“Me neither.”

The time had to have been around three in the afternoon. There were umbrellas popping up everywhere, people traveling to the beach to earn a sunburn.

Luke and Brendan were still in the ocean, Brendan pathetically attempting to surf. And Luke was just standing beside him, shaking his head nearly every time Brendan tried something. It was funny to watch, but sad to think about.

“Y’think those two are gay?” Ren inquired casually.

I shot him a funny look. “Why do you say that?”

He shrugged, laughing a little. “No reason. Just wanted you to talk to me.”

I watched our drummer and bassist in the sea as Luke helped Brendan onto his board yet again. A wave was forming in the distance – a pretty big one, compared to all the beach’s past failures. Brendan stood up, wobbled some, and took it on.

About halfway down the barrel, though, he slipped. This was no ordinary slip, though – he slid off, and the edge of the board clipped the side of his head. As he went under and didn’t surface, Luke shouted something I couldn’t make out, and the board flailed into the air.

There were people around the scene who stopped to stare. Luke was all over the place, diving, going into deeper waters to rescue his best buddy. At last, after a long silence, he broke the surface and began paddling, an unconscious Brendan propped up on his shoulders.

As they got to the shore, the patrons cleared a space and Luke yelled for a lifeguard. Ren and I had run up to them, scared as shit to see Brendan not breathing. He lay motionless on the muddy sand, a certain lifeless aura around him…

Luke kneeled beside him, not saying a word. He kept brushing the hair back out of his own eyes, curls of chestnut not wanting to stay up. He almost looked like he was gonna cry.

Then the lifeguard came, after what felt like an hour of waiting. He was a tall young dude, probably in his late 20’s, a buzzcut for a hairdo; he motioned for us to clear the area and we did. Luke hesitated, though.

After a couple seconds of pumping his chest, the air grew tight. Luke turned away, covering his face with his hands in stress, unable to face his almost-dying best friend.

And then there was coughing.

Brendan sprung back to life in two or three gargled gags, saltwater streaming down his face. His eyes were red and he looked so tired, like he just defeated Goliath. There was a brief gasp within the crowd when it happened, but then there was joy.

He rubbed his eyes and groaned as he woke up slowly. Even if Luke, Ren and I wanted to be the first to congratulate him on surviving, the lifeguard ushered us away for a couple minutes so he could wake up and sit up.

Brendan spoke in a low raspy voice. “Damn,” was all he could choke out.

Luke mussed his hair. “I’m sorry, man.”

He shrugged. “Ain’t your fault I fell. Unless you pushed me.”

“Would I do that?” Luke smirked.

“Yeah, you would.”

Ren and I shared a smile.

“So you gonna go back in the water or what?” Ren asked Brendan.

He hesitated, then shook his head. “Nah. I got enough saltwater fuckin’ up my nose.”

“Language,” I reminded him. He slapped my calf with the back of his hand.

Luke looked around for a second like he thought he saw Sasquatch. “Oh dude, where’s my board?”

We stayed quiet. After it flailed into the water, none of us saw where it went. And knowing Luke as a surfer, I’d have bet that he was highly unpleasant without it.

“Poop,” he muttered, crossing his arms. “I got that thing for Christmas, too…”

Brendan coughed and looked up at him. “Why don’t we help you find it.”

Ren and I shrugged, like, “Whatever.”

Luke helped him up and in a matter of seconds, we were combing the waters, looking for a pale yellow hunk of plastic foam. It should have been able to float; I mean, it supported Brendan, and for some odd reason, he was dense as hell.

Ren and I stayed in the shallow waters, not as daring as Luke (he was chest-deep), but not as lazy as Brendan (he was sitting in the muddy sand).

“You guys find it yet?” Brendan yelled, hands cupped around his mouth.

Luke turned around and gestured to him like he was trying to say, “What’re you doing?!”

“No, we haven’t found it yet,” Ren yelled.

“Okay.”

It was a tedious search. For one thing, there was only the four of us – Ren’s mom was working on her tan – and another thing, the water was populated so thickly that we got tired of saying, “S’cuse me,” and “Have you seen a surfboard float by here?”

But we didn’t leave until we found it. Luke had pretty much scrubbed the ocean raw looking for it, but Ren was the one who found it drifting toward a family reunion. Since I was sticking with him, we retrieved it and then met up with Brendan, who was still lying on his ass in front of our towel. We pretty much forced him to get Luke since he really didn’t help us out.

Luke was over happy. He even took the time to squeeze the living crap out of Brendan (which was weird; he was only the messenger) and ran back to our humble umbrella to help us pack up.

And even if I was soaked to the bone, sandy, and sunburned…I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.