Summer Skies and Ocean Eyes

The whole bottom section of the house smelled like banana as I broke into the chilled air of the foyer. Gently sniffing the air as I placed my purple flip-flops in the shoe organizer shaped like a bench, I could hear the echo of guy voices bouncing against the walls. My ears pricked as I placed my tote on the floor--it was Poot’s car that was parked in the driveway, but I was wondering if he brought the other one.

Feet sticking against the cold wooden flooring of the foyer and living room as I walked by, I could hear a burst of Griffin’s laughter coming from the kitchen. Slowly peeking inside the arch, I saw Tommy and Poot leaning against a chunk of counter, little yellow cupcakes half-eaten in their hands.

Both of them must have recently come in from working on the shed, because I could still see little beads of sweat dotting their foreheads and arms. Their hair was completely in a mess--Poot’s slightly contained by his red folded headband--and there was spatterings of dirt staining their cut-offs and worn basketball shorts.

The only part of them that was clean were their hands, looking freshly washed.

Stepping fully into the room, everyone’s eyes rose. Griffin was seated at a bar stool. There two empty wrappers placed on the counter in front of him with crumbs sprinkling everything within a two-foot radius around where he sat. Maybe it was just because Poot and Tommy were in the room, but Griffin suddenly looked much shorter and skinnier than usual.

Then there was Lilia, pulling another muffin tray filled with the yellow-ish cupcakes from the oven. Since everyone else’s mouths were full, she was the first to speak.

“Hello, Calico.” Like usual, Lilia didn’t even have to turn around to know it was me. Placing the tray on a cooling rack, she shut the oven door and removed her mitts. Placing her hand on her hips, she shook her head and tutted at Griffin in Spanish at the mess he had made.

“Que comió tan rápido, probablemente no podría decir si la comida esta entrando en la boca o la nariz. Aquí...” Lilia grabbed a damp rag from the sink and tossed it to Griffin without warning. “Limpiar su desorden, por favor.”

He caught it, wrinkling his nose and sniffling. “I didn’t eat it that fast,” he grumbled to himself as he started cleaning up the crumbs. I wasn’t surprised anymore when Griffin completely understood what Lilia had said. He had known her practically since he was born, and she never hesitated to speak to Kendall and Griffin in Spanish. Though they weren’t fluent when it came to speaking, both of them had a perfect ear for it.

It wasn’t until after Griffin started wiping the crumbs into the palm of his hand when Poot happily swallowed the last bite of his cupcake and waved. “Oh, oh hey Calico. Fancy seeing you here.”

I smiled and walked over to the island counter, leaning my elbows against it. “I know, weird, right? Because it’s not like I live here. What are you guys doing, anyway?”

Balling the cupcake wrapper with one hand, Poot tossed it to me. Without moving, I let it bounce against my shoulder before it tumbled toward Griffin on the counter. He wiped it up with the rest of his mess.

“Lilia made some banana cupcakes with coconut sprinkles on top and invited them in to have some,” Griffin chirped, answering quickly for them. Poot nodded, while Tommy continued to slowly eat the remainder of his muffin. He hadn’t looked at me once this entire time, and I knew it was because of yesterday.

We hadn’t said much to each other the rest of the night, though he still insisted on paying for my ticket. The only inkling I received yesterday that he wasn’t mad at me was that halfway through the movie, just as action sequences were really starting to take off, I felt his fingers timidly brush against mine.

I had gulped and watched him out of the corner of my eye, but he was staring straight ahead. It wasn’t until about ten minutes later when it happened again, though that time, his hand smoothed its way around mine, holding gently onto it.

Needless to say, I hadn’t been able to pay attention to the rest of the movie. It was like when Tommy touched me, my mind started blabbering and thinking and twirling over itself and I couldn’t focus on anything but him. Especially when his leg nudged over and pressed beside mine, I couldn’t even remember we were at a movie.

But after the titles came on and everyone began to stir, he hastily rearranged himself and created the same kind of distance between us that reminded me of my first couple weeks here. On the ride home, it was like we were driving in two separate cars.

Even hours later when we both appeared at the beach, he sat beside me but completely pretended like I wasn’t there.

So of course, I was confused and frustrated and scared and thinking about his warm hand and the way his dad’s eyes disapprovingly looked over me and that stupid bruise and how Poot kissed me and-

“Uh, where were you at, Cal?” Poot asked, and by the tone of his voice, I knew it had been the second or third time he asked. Everyone was once again looking at me, including Tommy. It wasn’t until I found we were making eye contact that I realized I had been staring solely at him the entire time.

“Oh! Oh, sorry. I was with Emily and Lindsay. We went to the pier to play games and ride the carousel.” Though it wasn’t perfect, I did an okay job at pretending I wasn’t flustered. Heavier than anyone’s gaze, I could feel Lilia’s eyes on me. It was like she saw through everything.

“And why weren’t we invited?” Poot casually said, motioning between himself and Tommy. Of course he would try and help smooth the mood over, because Poot was just that awesome.

Completely composing myself, I stood up straight. “Because it was a Girl Thing. We talked about clothes and did each other’s hair and talked about cute boys.” I was over-exaggerating, but I was sure they got the picture.

Poot threw his hands up, exasperatedly looking at me. “But you know those are my favorite things to do!”

I laughed as Lilia walked over with a freshly-sprinkled cupcake and handed it to me, deliciously warm to the touch. Face as stern as ever, she nodded at it. “Eat. Have as many as you want. Girls like you and Kendall are too skinny and need to eat a lot of pastelitos de banano.”

Already taking my first bite into it, I almost choked at being lumped in with tiny little Kendall. She was as thin and limber as a model, then I had muscles and curves that made me a stable athlete.

“You’re not supposed to inhale the thing: chew, Cal, chew,” Poot walked over and patted my back.

As I nodded, taking extra care in chewing through a smile, Tommy finished up his cupcake and threw the wrapper in the trash can by the sink. “Gracias por los pastelitos, Lilia. Estaban muy, muy bueno.”

I paused, did everyone know Spanish down here? After taking three years of French in high school, I felt left out.

Lilia’s mouth ever-so-slightly curved up at the fluidity that Tommy spoke with. Nodding, she grabbed another two cupcakes and ambled to hand them to him and Poot. “Por supuesto. Usted es bienvenido aquí en cualquier momento que quieras.”

Tommy nodded, the first small smile of the day playing on his lips. Poot leaned toward me. “Tommy’s taken all the Spanish classes offered at our high school. He’s really good at it,” he whispered into my ear.

Of course, instead of getting nervous at how Poot’s hot breath bounced against the side of my face, all I could think about was how sexy it was that Tommy could speak Spanish. I really do have a problem.

Griffin remained in the kitchen with Lilia as I walked Poot and Tommy to the door. They had gone back outside to retrieve their things, then came back inside to say goodbye.

As the two of them clomped through the foyer, Poot stopped at a picture that was hanging on the wall of me and Brie Ann. After seeing the picture in a frame of my room, Jon insisted on getting it expanded so that it could be placed on the Family Wall of the foyer. Next to it was a large, empty space: waiting for the picture that would feature Mom, Jon, Kendall, Griffin and I. It had yet to be taken because of everyone’s busy schedules, but Jon dreamed big.

“Who’s this?” Poot asked, then without pausing, “Oh, is it your-”

“It’s her half-sister Brie.” Tommy’s words were quiet and quick, successfully taking both Poot and I by surprise. All I could do was awkwardly stand there while Poot quickly overcame the off-guard expression on his face and replaced it with his usual smile.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. She’s really cute, looks a lot like you.”

Tommy didn’t bother to say goodbye as he turned, grabbing the handle of the door and whooshing it open. Hot Florida air sucked its way inside, battling against the air conditioning as Tommy purposefully nudged Poot and left without saying another word.

“Well.” Poot cleared his throat. “I guess that’s my cue to leave.” He started inching his way out the door, holding his cupcake up to me in a toast-like motion. “I’ll call you later and let you know what everyone is doing.”

“Okay, talk to you later,” I mustered up one more smile before he left, then shut the door firmly after him. Pressing my palms against the wood of it, I stared at the little peephole placed in front of my face.

Hopefully the next time the three of us were together, it wouldn’t be so...whatever that just was.

☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼

Tommy was waiting for me at the beach, like always. Through the darkness, his silhouette was in a little ball by the shore. I couldn’t fully see his shape until I reached him. With his legs pulled up to his chest, his shoulders gave a small hop as I sat down, like I had jerked him out of some deep thought.

The word “hey” bounced around my throat, then my tongue, but couldn’t make its way off my lips. Once again, I could feel the padding of space between us: when he wanted to, Tommy sure knew how to close me off.

Last time we had sat so close, we were in the movie theater. My fingers tingled at the thought, I bunched them into a fist and tucked them into my crossed arms.

Waves rolled in and out like a metronome, sometimes taking on an odd beat before falling back into a steady rhythm again. The sound had usually calmed me before, but now, the only sound I could focus on was the silence between Tommy and I.

I wanted to talk to him about what happened with his dad. Ask about that bruise I had seen before the memorial service. Find out what he really thought of me. But, all of those things were too personal. Every time I tried to crack into a part of Tommy’s personal life, he closed shut again. I knew I wouldn’t get a straight answer. Not any answer, really.

Except I really, really wanted to talk to him. So, quickly scanning my brain for topics we hadn’t talked about at the beach yet, I determinedly un-crossed my arms.

“So. You speak Spanish.”

It wasn’t the best opener, but at least it got his attention. Tommy’s head slowly turned to face mine. The moon was a little smothered tonight, so the main source of our lighting came from the streetlights behind us. They covered half of his face in darkness, annoyingly adding to the mystery of the kid.

“Yeah.”

The finality with how he said it killed me. Frowning to myself, I plodded on. “Poot says that you’re really good at it.”

One nod. “Yeah.”

It took a lot of self-restraint to not group up a ball of sand and chuck it at his face. I was trying hard, and he was acting like he couldn’t have cared less. I impatiently traced my tongue over my top teeth, taking one more breath to give it another try.

“Are you going to still study it next year at college?” I knew a little bit about his future plans, like how his parents were taking care of his tuition and meal plan, and he’d only have to pay for rooming and books. He had said his dad wanted him to study business management like he had and take over for him after he retired, but Tommy had never told me what he wanted to do next year.

I, of course, had told Tommy all about wanting to become an events planner. Being paid to be organized and creative was the best thing ever. It was another instance where I was willing to share much more about myself than Tommy was.

“Yeah.”

That was it. I let out a load huff. “Do you like doing cartwheels while drinking chicken and singing N’SYNC all while wearing leather pants?” I hadn’t meant to yell it like that, but my words easily stretched across the empty beach on either side of us.

Finally, for the first time tonight, Tommy looked at me. “What are you talking about?”

“You were just saying ‘yeah’ to everything I said so...” I mumbled, like that would help explain my outburst. He stared hard at me, then with a long exhale that was slightly shaking with a chuckle, he shook his head. Bit by bit, I could feel the mood around us start to change.

“You’re so weird. Leather pants? N’SYNC? And you can’t drink chicken. What goes on in your mind?”

I couldn’t help but grin, happy that he was talking again. “You don’t want to know, Tommy Rose.”

“No. I don’t think I do,” Tommy mused, unlatching his legs from his arms and stretching them into the sand in front of him. He was quiet again, but it was a different kind of quiet than when I first arrived at the beach. After a minute, he gently tilted his face to me. “And yeah. I really want to minor in Spanish next year.”

So as to not seem so eager, I let his sentence settle in the air for a moment. “What would you want to do with it?”

Tommy shrugged, “Nothing my parents would really want me to do. I tried to mention becoming a teacher to my dad once, and he just laughed.” He stated it without much sadness or remorse, just a fact.

“A teacher? I thought you didn’t like kids.” I knew I wasn’t exactly being supportive, but it didn’t make sense.

“I don’t. I’d want to teach high schoolers, or maybe even do college-level.”

“Well, if you really want to do that, then you should,” I stated, like that was the end of that. Tommy leaned back so that he was resting on his eyebrows, his chin raised toward the sky. Allowing more of the light behind us to trace his features, I could see his almost defeated expression.

“Yeah. Because that’s totally how things work,” he replied, his voice layered with sarcasm. “Not for everyone, anyway. I mean, I have no doubt that you’re going to be an events planner. You’re always so organized and stuff.”

“Yes. And stuff,” I murmured, still stuck on the fact that Tommy wasn’t going to go to college for something he really wanted to do.

“Don’t look all pouty like that. Jeez. You wanted to talk, remember? I was fine with just sitting here.” Tommy shook his head, muttering my last name like a joke. “McCandless...”

Suppressing every other word as it tried to make its way out to defend myself and remind him that he’s been the moody one, not me, I clenched my teeth together. After being able to get him to emerge from whatever hole he had been lingering in this morning and last night, I wasn’t going to say something to ruin it.

“Don’t you mean Mc-can-less-de-candle?” I teased.

Tommy raised an eyebrow at me. He didn’t remember. “What?”

“Never mind.”

☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼

A day later, I rinsed out the remainder of the coffee from my reusable Starbucks cup, watching the murky water falling out of it slowly become clear. After yoga this morning, I had lazily placed it by the sink. It figured that the first thing that would happen to me the moment I got back from running with the girls was that Lilia would ask me to rinse it out and take care of it. Placing the cup and its cap in the dishwasher, I dried my hands on a towel.

As I ringed my fingers through the soft material, my eyes drifted to a window that led to the back yard. Poot was out by the shed--now a steady-looking frame with a skeleton roof--using an electric saw to chop through a plank of wood.

Smiling to myself, I glanced over my shoulder at Emily. She was sitting on top of our island counter, something that would have given Lilia a hernia if she hadn’t been making a run to the farmer’s market down the street. We had ran into her right before she left.

“Poot and Tommy are here,” I said, “Want to go hang out with him and eat, then we can go swimming after that?”

Emily nodded, putting her hair into pigtails before removing the bobby pins that had been sticking out of her mouth. “Sounds good. I’m all smelly from running, but after knowing the guys for so long, they’ve definitely seen me much worse than this.”

She hopped down from her spot, landing lightly on her feet. After grabbing an assorted bowl of cut-up fruit, I snatched my water bottle off the counter and the two of us made our way outside.

Poot was wearing a pair of clunky protective goggles and thick-looking gloves as he revved up the saw, pressing another plank of wood through the machine as it made a sharp whizzing sound. He didn’t notice Emily and I were there until he had turned off the machine again and took of his goggles.

Wiping the sweat off his brow with his forearm, he let out a loud, welcoming hoot. “Hey!”

“Well, look at you, Mr. Man,” Emily joked as the the two of us settled into the grass. I placed the bowl between us as she grabbed my water bottle, taking a long sip. Poot shrugged, like he worked heavy machinery all day.

“You know how it goes. Wake up. Chop some wood. Get sweaty. I’m going to go eat a big, bloody steak after this.” Poot joined us, reaching into the bowl and grabbing half a strawberry before popping it into his mouth. His bright blue eyes were light and airy this morning, matching the summery sky above us.

“Well, you should at least cook it a little. We all know how your tummy gets when your steak is too rare.” I talked to him in a baby voice, trying to keep my eyes from scoping the rest of the yard to find Tommy. He’d make an appearance when he felt like it.

“Ha! Tummy. I don’t have a tummy. I have a- a-”

“Man Stomach,” Emily helped him with a low, growling lumberjack voice.

Poot nodded vigorously, his fingers continually flying to the bowl to eat fruit like he had been starving for days. “Exactly.”

Smacking his hand away, I managed to snatch a couple grapes before he dove back in.

“Where’s Tommy?” Emily asked the question I had been keeping to myself. Poot shrugged, the sparkle from his eye that had been there a moment ago dimmed the tiniest bit.

“I don’t really know. His phone probably died to he’s sleeping in or something like that. He uses is cell as his alarm, and I just went to voicemail when I tried to call.” When Poot saw the cautious way I was watching with him, he continued. “It happens every now and then, the kid could seriously sleep for days.”

Emily nodded, smiling to herself at what must have been an old memory. “Not only could he sleep for a week on end, he slept like a brick, too. Many-a-mustache was drawn on his face when we went camping or stayed the night at each other’s houses.”

As the three of us continued to talk, enjoying the breezes that flittered between the houses of the neighborhood, I couldn’t help but feel strange, like something wasn’t right. But, gulping down the sensation with every piece of fruit I swallowed, I managed to push it to the back of my mind.

Like Poot had said, Tommy was probably just sleeping in.

☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼

A couple hours later, Poot had gone to hang out with some of his other friends and Emily and I had gotten a group of girls together to go kick a soccer ball around the fields behind Naples High School. We were all so sick of the hardcore conditioning sessions that didn’t involve us playing soccer, so we needed some way to get some technical touches on the ball.

It was around three o’clock when girls started trickling off the field, one by one. Half an hour later, only eight of us were left out of the original fourteen.

If they would have let me, I could have stayed there for the rest of the night. There was something so completely amazing about the way a soccer ball felt when I kicked it. The way the bounce of it reverberated through my foot to the bone as I pummel it as hard as I can was like some kind of therapy.

After years and years of playing, every move, shot, pass, and dribble had become second nature. I don’t really think about the power or direction; I just do it, then watch the ball sail toward its destination.

I admired that kind of control, and wished everything in my life came as easy to me as kicking a soccer ball.

“Hey Cal, check it out,” Emily said, jogging over to where I was drinking my water as the others practiced penalty shots. She nodded her head toward the parking lot that rested to the side of the fields complex. Poot was there, standing against a fence that framed the field.

He looked long and limber as he stood there, arms crossed with a black beanie on his head. Even from about three-hundred yards away, I could still see his blonde hair peaking out from beneath it. He was watching the girls shoot--everything about his posture was relaxed, but after spending so much time with him, I could tell something was wrong.

“I wonder who he came here to see,” Emily coyly purred. The two of us didn’t talk about Boy Stuff much, that was one of the things I really liked about her. Every now and then, though, she’d make some ridiculous comment about me and Poot.

“Hopefully not me because I’m starting to look and smell like a very sweaty man right now,” I mumbled, wondering if I should go right over, or wait until the girls decided to call it quits. A few of them were already making their way over, sipping from the multitude of sport bottles that surrounded us.

“Here, I’ll take care of that,” Emily said, reaching down and grabbing her own bottle. I was only able to read the intention in her eye a moment before the warm water was splashed at me like a squirt gun. “There.”

Emily was all-too-pleased with herself as I laughed, shaking my head to try and get the water off. The others were laughing, and some had gotten the rebound of the water that had hit me. Suddenly, Lindsay squirted her bottle at Emily for revenge.

I watched and as what had started as a joke exploded into a full-fledged water fight. Everyone grabbed their weapon and continued to squeal in a way I thought girls only did in the movies.

Quickly backing out of the situation, I walked over to Poot. He was completely immersed in what was going on with the soccer girls, and almost didn’t notice me as I walked up. Momentarily tearing his eyes away to say hello, he shifted his focus back.

“You know,” Poot considered as he stroked his chin, “I could take my shirt off right now and get in the middle of that. That’s kind of every guy’s fantasy, right there.”

I rolled my eyes, leaning against the fence beside him. “Right...”

He looked at me with a devious glint in is eye, nodding to where the girls were still screaming and squirting each other with water. “Why aren’t you in on that action?”

“I saw you over here and wanted to see what was up,” I shrugged. It wasn’t like I told him I could tell something was wrong, but it was enough.

“Yeah, about that...” Poot mumbled, rocking his torso side to side as he looked at his feet. “The whole thing with Tommy this morning, I really had been hoping that he had just slept in again. But...”

“But what?” I asked, unable to contain myself as my whole body stiffened. He sighed, squinting his eyes like he was torn between something. Everything he did was hesitant as he slowly faced me.

“I uh...I usually don’t do this, you know, talk to people about Tommy and...you know. But every time he disappears it’s like I just freak, and I really don’t want to involve you in this because-”

“Poot, he disappeared? What happened? Do you know?” It shot out of my mouth as I grabbed his arm. Poot rolled his jaw around the base of his mouth, carefully grinding his teeth.

“So you haven’t heard from Tommy?” he quietly asked, like that had been his last hope. I shook my head no--the last time I had checked my phone was three minutes ago when I jogged to the edge of the field to get a drink. “Shit. I just thought- You and Tommy seem like you’ve been getting really close and I thought that even if he wasn’t talking to me that maybe he texted you.”

“No, he didn’t.” As I released my grip on his arm, I had the greatest urge to sprint back to my phone and check it again, though I already knew he hadn’t texted me between then and now. “Poot, did...Do you think something happened between him and his dad?”

He wasn’t looking at me again as he kicked at the dirt. “I can’t say for sure, but that’s usually what happens.”

It wasn’t much, but it caused a lead-like shock to rumble through me. Muscles tightened up as my brain went blank. All I could do was stand there like the smallest of winds could have toppled me over. Mr. Rose--that tall, strong, proper man--hitting Tommy.

“It’s usually just once or twice, and then he’s done. His dad has always had these really bad anger issues. Tommy barely talks about it, but the more stressed out Mr. Rose gets, the worst it is.” Poot said quietly. “I’m guessing the whole anniversary thing with Drew’s death hasn’t helped.”

I took in a short breath, eyebrows pinched together as I shook my head. I had known about the domestic abuse in Tommy’s family ever since he and Poot had that fight on the beach, but this was the first time I was ever talking about it; making it more real than catching a glimpse of Tommy’s bruise.

“I can’t believe this. Why hasn’t anyone done something to help Tommy?” My voice came out a lot more accusing toward Poot than I had planned. His face hardened as I rubbed my temple.

“You don’t think we’ve tried? The first time my parents filed a domestic abuse claim against Mr. Rose was when we were all in elementary school. The second time in eighth grade. The third time a couple months after Drew’s death.” Poot’s voice was getting deep and rough.

“Then why didn’t-”

“There are never any witnesses, Cal. Never any evidence. You need that stuff when you take something to court. Of course the department of social services has to investigate every complaint, but there was no worth in it when Tommy and Drew always denied everything. Everything.” Poot’s voice grew louder with his frustration.

“I don’t...I can’t understand why,” I said shakily, eyes staring off. It was like Poot and I were suddenly on a completely different continent than the rest of the girls were. Our surroundings became fuzzy and unimportant as my heart started to ache.

“Tommy always has his reasons,” Poot said gruffly, his chest rising and falling heavily.

“And have you tried talking to him about-”

“Calico, you know that doesn’t work with Tommy.” He cut me off again, glaring at his feet. “Not everything can be fixed. The more I try and help him, the more he pushes me away. After the last time he got pulled out of class to be ‘safely questioned’ in the office by a social worker, he knew it was because of me and my parents and didn’t speak to me for a month.

I’m lucky to still be able to help Tommy by sticking up for him when people talk about the rumors, or letting him stay at my house on a night when he needs to get away from his house. You have no clue how many people he’s just cut out of his life. So if the only thing I can do to help Tommy is be there for him, I’m going to do that.”

I had never heard Poot so intense, it made me feel incredibly small as I looked up at him. Truthfully, hadn’t I been the same way with Tommy? I was always carefully abiding by the lines he set, never wanting to cross one in fear that he might close me off again.

“One more year, and he’s going to be moving out and going to college. I think it’s what he’s been focusing on for a long time now.” Poot said, calming down again. He looked up at me for the first time in a while, realizing my expression as he put his hands on my shoulders.

“Sorry, Cal. I told you that the less you knew, the better off you’d be. I wish I could have helped you be separate from this, somehow.” He let go of me with one of his hands, using it to rake through his hair. “I didn’t want to pull you into it, I knew it was stupid to come here.”

Flittering my hand uselessly through the air, I gently shook my head. “I’m fine. All I’m worried about right now is Tommy. Should we look for him?”

Poot removed his hand from my shoulder, crossing his arms as he blew some of his hair away from his eyes. “I’ve tried it before. When he wants to be invisible, Tommy can completely disappear.”

It was a kind of worry that I had never felt before, creeping through me like a physical weight was starting to pull me down. Looking over the parking lot with a sparse collection of cars here and there, I closed my eyes to think, then opened them when I came up short for answers.

“I’ll try calling him, I guess. Let me know if you hear anything.”

With one nod of his head, Poot pulled me tightly into his arms. “Okay. It’ll be okay, really.”

I was sure that was what Poot told himself all the time, and I hoped that for everyone’s sake: it was true.