Summer Skies and Ocean Eyes

“So. Are you going to tell me what happened?”

Poot held out my canvas tote and keys, the light by the front door of Jon’s house shone like a spotlight on top of his head. Behind him, the night had just begun to settle in as fireflies dotted distress signals across the yard.

Unsure of what to say at first, I reached for my things to try and buy myself some time. Just as my hands neared his, Poot pulled them out of my grasp.

“Really,” he said, holding the tote against his chest. His solemn eyes and set brow cancelled out the easygoing smirk he was trying to give. “Tommy didn’t tell me much when he dropped these off at my house.”

“What did he say?” I asked a little more urgent than I had intended. Reeling myself back in, I nonchalantly crossed my arms across my chest and avoided Poot’s questioning stare. I could hear the blabbering sound of the TV float through the living room and foyer, reaching the two of us from where we stood.

He shook his head, opening his mouth. Before he could get out one syllable, he stopped, staring past me into the house. Looking over my shoulder, I managed to catch a flash of long, blonde hair trailing from a retreating figure. Kendall. That little snoop.

Everyone had been overly-curious after Emily—who thankfully kept her questions to herself—dropped me off this evening. Mom asked why “that look is on your face,” and Kendall couldn’t hold in a comment about how I was acting stranger than usual. I hadn’t been in the mood to make up excuses, so I managed to politely make it clear I didn’t want to be bothered then shut myself in my room. Jon didn’t even question where my car was.

After texting Poot and telling him Tommy was fine, I laid on top of my bed and listened to my iPod. Cranking it up while staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, I did my best to simply not think. Every time I momentarily slipped away, closing my eyes or letting my mind drift, Tommy’s face would splay across my brain. It was like the whole thing happened over and over again, causing a fresh sheen of embarrassment to cover the former layer.

Three hours of unsuccessfully trying to drain my brain passed before Griffin came to tell me that Poot was pulling into the driveway.

“Let’s-”

“Go to the pool,” I finished for him, quickly grabbing the knob and pulling the door shut after me as I stepped into the muggy air. We were both mute, walking our way to the back yard. Questions and thoughts and explanations were whizzing through me. I didn’t know where to start, or how much to tell, or if I should lie about the whole thing and insist that Tommy was being dramatic.

But first I had to know what he told Poot.

The two of us settled by the pool, slapping at our skin as mosquitos nipped at our arms. Sitting next to me on the concrete with his legs crossed, Poot turned my way. He must have been waiting for me to talk, because for a seemingly innumerable amount of minutes we motionlessly listened to the slurp of the water banging against the filter.

With the taste of chlorine pressing on the back of my tongue, I scoped my eyes along the four walls of the pool. Everything had the same blue hue to it as the night he kissed me in this same, exact spot. I ignored the ironic thought that on both nights, we were drawn here because of Tommy.

Finally, he sucked in a deep breath and placed my things between us. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I answered like a reflex. “I’m fine. What did Tommy tell you?”

Poot studied me with heavy concentration, like he could read actual words in every line that made up my face. The mask-of-a-smile was gone as he squinted. “Like I said before, not much. He just called me out of nowhere like half an hour ago and said he was dropping some stuff off at my house. I saw him for about two minutes when he asked if I’d take it to you.”

“Did he say what...” I trailed off, too unsure to finish my sentence. If Tommy hadn’t said anything about it, then I definitely wasn’t going to be the one to tell Poot.

“He said he was an asshole to you, and did something he shouldn’t have. He wanted me to make sure you were okay.”

Poot watched me as he spoke, waiting for some kind of reaction to his words like that would answer some questions for him. Managing to remain still, a small piece of satisfaction planted in my chest at the possibility that Tommy was already regretful of what happened.

“Did he hurt you, or something?” I didn’t miss the protective edge to his voice. It was unneeded, but I couldn’t help feel the tiniest bit better because of it.

Yes. I had never been more humiliated in my entire life, though I was positive that wasn’t the kind of hurt Poot was talking about.

“No. He didn’t hurt me. I’m fine, really.” I put on my best Fine Face, blinking at Poot as innocently as I could manage. As he continued to try and pry into me with his eyes, I shifted my gaze and slid my legs into the cool water in front of me. They brightened through the crystal-clear water.

“Cal,” he said slowly, “If anything ever happens, you understand that you can tell me, right?”

I nodded. Poot waited again, as if giving me cue to start spilling my guts out. Truthfully, as much as I didn’t want him to know about what had happened between Tommy and I, there was something almost alleviating about his presence.

“I mean, I know how Tommy gets. I guess I’m just scared that-”

“Poot,” I cut him off, knocking the back of my feet against the pool’s wall. The ripples reflected off the water and bounced around us. “Then you probably already have the gist of it. It was my fault. I think I just pushed Tommy too far out of his comfort zone, or something. Like he said, he was just an asshole. Said some stupid stuff. I got angry and left, forgetting about my tote and keys.”

He let out a breath of a saracastic chuckle. “He must have really been acting like a jerk, to make you forget them.”

All there was left to do was nod again as Poot’s eyes swept over me once more. He turned his body and swung his legs into the water, slurping them beside mine. “But you and I both know that even if you pushed him ‘too far out of his comfort zone,’ that doesn’t give him a right to act like—however he did. I mean, I can understand if he treats me like shit, but you?”

Adjusting his t-shirt over his shoulders in a fidgeted way, Poot sighed. “You’re the first person in such a long time that I’ve actually seen him relax with. I thought- I don’t know. I thought he would be different. With you, Tommy- Whatever. I’m just sorry.”

Gripping my hands onto the top edge of the pool, I leaned forward, looking straight down to the bottom before moving my eyes to his. “Don’t be sorry, it’s not like any of what happened was your fault.”

“I shouldn’t have bothered you when you were playing soccer today.”

“Yes, you should have. You’re a good, no—a fantastic—friend, Poot. I know Tommy’s like a brother to you.” Part of me felt better to shift my focus to Poot instead of the whole reason why we were back by the pool in the first place. “You were worried, and you did what you could.”

Frogs croaked from where they hid in the yard as Poot took a moment to contemplate what I had said. Based on his expression, I knew he was doubtful, but he kept it to himself.

As I waited for him to talk, I glanced back at the house. Some lights were still turned on, but the rest of the household would be trudging to bed soon enough. At this point, I didn’t know what I was going to do. My body was wide awake—although tired—and I could definitely use a trip to the beach to ease the rest of my nerves. But, the thought that Tommy could be there kept me planted where I sat, intimidated at the thought.

“I did what I could,” Poot repeated, whispering to himself with a shake of his head. “I just don’t know how long that’s going to be enough.”

“Mmm,” I hummed, continuing to swish my legs back and forth in the water. It was like he hadn’t realized he had said that out loud until I made that noise. He jumped where he sat, eyes blinking as he came back to earth.

Shuffling his hands aimlessly around, Poot finally gave up trying to cover up his surprise and stood to his feet. It wasn’t like him to seem so discombobulated. The water rushed off his skin and dripped in fat globs down to the cement. “I should get going. I just wanted to drop your stuff off and make sure you were okay.”

Standing next to him, I ignored the prickly, stingy way the hot night air met my wet skin.

“And you are okay, right?”

“Right,” I firmly said. Poot’s face softened as he looked at me. His lips tightened together as a corner of his mouth tilted up.

“Right. Then give me a hug.”

That was that. After sharing a tight embrace, Poot disappeared back around the house to leave me standing alone by the pool. I continued to stare after him in the minutes after he left, picturing his depleted expression as he talked about his friend. Already plagued with visions of Tommy, it was added onto the pile.

The thoughts didn’t go away as I made my way back to my room. They weren’t pushed out of my mind when I tried blasting music into my ears again. An hour passed as I laid on my bed in the dark. All I wanted was to sleep. Sleep without dreams or thoughts or anything else.

I couldn’t. An hour passed, then two, and when it had reached one o’clock in the morning, my eyes were still opened to their full capacity. With a restless body, I stared at my shoes, illuminated only by the moonlight streaming into the room. Feet wiggling: they itched to put them on.

Harshly gulping down my spit, I ripped the earbuds out of my ears and tossed them to the mattress. Avoiding Tommy was not worth going insane. I wasn’t going to let him deter me. Tommy may let things get in the way of his life, but there was no way I was going to act like that. I didn’t let him scare me away when I first started going to the beach, and I wasn’t going to start the habit of avoiding him now.

The distance of time between leaving Jon’s house and arriving at the beach happened in an inhale and exhale. As the minutes began to pass on the shore, I began to roll my eyes at how I had fought so hard against coming.

My car was still waiting for me in the now-empty parking lot. A sign shoved into the grass noted that cars parked after two in the morning would be towed, but after all of my late night ventures to the beach, I had never seen someone check before. Deciding it would be fine, I dropped my tote with the keys in the pocket safely away from the wet shore, and moved toward the ocean.

The water was soothing against my feet as each wave came in, gurgling so much more softly on my skin than the chemical-ridden pool water had. For about the tenth time since I had arrived, I glanced over my shoulder at the darkened boardwalk.

Nothing.

I had hoped so hard that Tommy wasn’t going to be here, but there was a sharp edge of disappointment that pressed against me every time I looked down the beach and didn’t see him. My worry fought against my anger: the hurt meshed clumsily with my want for him to be here.

Sighing, I looked over the moonlit horizon, feeling the waves like a comfortable beat beneath my ribs. Sitting down, I let myself melt into the wet sand. I was starting to wonder how I had ever survived in Michigan without the ocean.

Resting my chin on my knee, I could still feel the stingy stretch of the cut on my cheek as I moved. Frowning to myself, I placed my hand over the scratch, then looked out at the constantly shifting water.

I got to my feet. Thinking of Tommy, I took off my shirt, then my shorts, tossing them to the sand. My flip-flops were kicked to the side, then I moved toward the waves.

It was weird to think of a time when getting into the opaque, mysterious ocean like this scared me. The water carried me as I swam far enough to lose my footing on the sand. Filling my lungs with sweetly tinged air, I completely submerged myself, cringing as my cut came in contact with the salty substance.

“How are your cuts feeling?”

“Numb.”

“Good.”

Maybe that was what Tommy did. Maybe he tried to make himself numb to everything, because then things might seem easier to handle. The distance from others—like the small space of relief I get from my cut going numb—is what feels like the best thing.

My head burst above the surface again. Treading water, I tilted my head back, feeling the water lap at the crook of my neck as I gazed toward the stars.

It was amazing how the ocean made everything melt away. My anger, frustrations, hurt, and fears dissolved the moment I first dipped my toe into the water.

I wished I could be the ocean for him.

☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼

I didn’t hear from Tommy the next day, or the next. Though I managed to gather myself together rather well, ten minutes couldn’t pass without me thinking about him. It was ridiculous how no matter what I did, he was running like a loop through my mind: bringing with it every time a new emotion that would temporarily distract me from whatever I was doing.

Poot and I hadn’t talked about it anymore, and all Emily would do was cast me curious expressions every now and then when she thought I wasn’t paying attention. For as much as I thought about Tommy, I felt like I was doing a fantastic job with pretending I was completely, absolutely fine. Tommy? Tommy who?

Then at night I sat by the ocean by myself, feeling an odd kind of lonely. With only the ocean to whisper to, everything that I had worked so hard to smother during the day became something palpable and solid within me. Of course, the water helped.

The anger had flushed away after the first night. The second, my frustration dissolved as I tread water for half an hour. Last night, the cringing embarrassment almost completely faded from me as I walked home. Barefoot with my flip-flops in one hand, I had dripped a trail of saltwater all the way home.

Today, after doing morning yoga with my mom then going to conditioning, the only thing that stirred and remained within me from the whole incident with Tommy was worry. I certainly hadn’t forgotten what had happened, but after putting some time and space into the mix, everything else seemed petty to hold on to. Once again, being admittedly naive, all I was concerned about was how I could help.

Smoothing my thumb over the back of my phone, I sincerely debated whether or not to call Tommy. The idea had seemed so preposterous this morning, but as the day continued it wrapped around me like a vine.

“Calico, you aren’t even trying to help,” Griffin exasperatedly sighed, shaking his head as he clicked yet another puzzle piece into place. The two of us were sitting on either side of the living room’s coffee table situated in front of the couch. Spread across it was a complex, half-done puzzle of a jungle.

I had grown tired of helping Griffin with it half an hour ago, but he continued to work like a machine as he connected puzzle piece after puzzle piece with vigor. He had a bit of a talent when it came to things like puzzles and brain games. Unlike me.

“Sorry, sorry,” I mumbled as I grabbed a piece, trying not to smile with how serious he took this. Kendall hopped down the stairs, I could hear before I saw her. Continuing to travel like a bunny across the floor, she circled around me and her little brother. “What are you so peppy about? Orientations usually suck.”

Just because she was suddenly acting like a five year old—which I actually liked better than her usual fifteen year-old attitude—didn’t stop her from rolling her eyes at me. With another bound, she landed an inch from where I sat on the floor and grinned down.

“Oh Calico, stupid, stupid Calico.” Kendall shook her head at me as Griffin and I discreetly exchanged a confused look. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I get to check out the whole lab today, and last time I was in to fill out some more paperwork, they told me they had just got in some baby tiger sharks. Tiger sharks!”

Griffin shook his head, already bored with the antics of his sister, and turned his attention back to the puzzle. As Kendall’s official first day at the G. Young Marine Laboratory got closer and closer, she was starting to throw all nerd-caution to the wind.

At least, around the house.

“Wow. Tiger sharks!” I mocked, using the same tone as her as I dramatically flung my arms around. The puzzle piece I had been holding on to accidentally flung across the room. I figured it was okay to make fun of her, it worked into my duties of trying to act like the semi-step-sister-person that I was.

Kendall scrunched her nose at me in reply as Griffin muttered something under his breath, crawling to retrieve the piece.

“I’m sure I won’t really have time to check them out for more than a minute, but I’ve never seen shark babies before.” Moving on from my jab, she excitedly clutched her hands together by her chest. Her happiness raised her to her tiptoes as she stood there, bouncing on the balls of her feet. An unintentional smile came to me as I watched.

Griffin returned to his spot, pressing the formerly airborne puzzle piece into place. “Are you sure you can’t take her to the lab early, Calico?”

I chuckled, grabbing another puzzle piece as I pretended to search for where it went. Jon was at work, and Mom, of course, was at one of her tennis lessons. She had been home for a moment when I got back from conditioning. Kendall, Griffin, and her had been playing a dancing game on the wii. Lilia had taken the day off to host some of her visiting family, so that meant that I was the only one left to take Kendall to the G. Young lab.

“I’m leaving in like, an hour anyway, loser,” Kendall said, stopping her wiggling for only a moment to check her phone. “I still need to borrow some clothes, Callie. Can I go through some of your stuff really quick?” We had already discussed her borrowing some of my work-out clothes today. I believe her reason why was because she didn’t own anything “raggy enough.” The girl needed to learn how to not insult someone when asking for a favor.

Before I could answer, she was already skipping away, disappearing around the corner while singing a random nursery song. I stared after her, before turning my attention back to little Griffin. He shook his head, completely unimpressed.

“She’s been drinking the Kool-Aid,” he muttered, snapping yet another piece in place.

I squinted at him, lowering my head to be more at his level. “Do you even know what that means, buddy?”

Griffin sheepishly smiled, rolling his thin shoulders in a sloppy shrug. His braces were now blue and green instead of the usual red from a trip to the orthodontist yesterday.

“No, but if I used it the right way, does it matter? he rebutted. I paused, holding up the puzzle piece midway in the air as I thought about it.

“Guess not. But don’t say that around your dad,” I warned him, trying to contain my smile. Maybe it wasn’t the best lesson, but he was too cute for me to argue with. If Mom and Jon were still together about three or four years from now, I’d explain.

“Fine.” Another piece was put in its proper spot. If he hadn’t got his braces stuck to his t-shirt this morning when he was trying to put it on, I would have thought the kid was a genius.

Frowning at the puzzle, I picked up a jigsaw and waved my arm around like I was casting a spell on it. “Now, if I find a piece that fits in the next minute, we’re going to take a break on this puzzle and go make some cookies.”

“Deal.” He said it without thought, completely doubting my skill. But, like the magic worked, my eyes somehow connected with a spot. With one confident flick of my fingers after some arranging, it was in place.

“Ha!” I confidently said, like I had been the one who had completed most of the puzzle. Just as I did that, the doorbell rang. The two of us looked toward the foyer as a beat passed.

“Nose goes!” he speedily exclaimed, smooshing his nose beneath his finger like lightening. I exasperatedly leaned back into the couch. You’d think something as simple as “nose goes” wouldn’t be hard to win, but Griffin always had me beat. It could have just been because I wasn’t twelve years old anymore.

“Crapface.” I chose one of his favorite insults and ruffled his hair, then sidestepped him before he could get me back. Still smiling, I traipsed to the door, then opened it to see something that made every part of me stop working.

“Hi,” Tommy cautiously breathed, looking down at me like Poot had the night he dropped off my things. An echo of my anger hit me, and I gave serious consideration to slamming the plank of wood in his face. But I didn’t. The hot air outside was ramming hard against the frozen air of Jon’s house. A mini tornado could have started right on that spot.

“Hey.” I tried to sound tough to cover up the surprise. He shifted where he stood, running a hand through his hair in that oddly endearing way of his. The nervous, unsure expression on his face ebbed my anger. Tommy couldn’t bring his eyes to me as he took a deep breath.

“I know I totally don’t deserve this, and I don’t expect you, in any way, to say yes...” He chose his words carefully as he looked at his feet. “But I just can’t- would you go on a walk with me?”

Looking around at the blindingly bright day, I shook my head. I thought it would feel good to say no, but the more I looked at him, the worse I felt. “Sorry, but I’m hanging out with Griffin and Kendall.”

Tommy nodded, eyes downcast as he frowned. That was probably what he had been expecting, anyway. It was hard to keep my face looking expressionless, especially when Tommy appeared so distraught.

“I understand.” Why did he have to be so agreeable? Then, his misty eyes looked up at me, connecting with mine in a way that only his seemed to be able to. “If it’s worth anything, I’m sorry. God, I’m really sorry.”

There it was. The first time he had ever apologized, for anything. Tommy never said “thank you,” or “sorry,” or even “my bad,” so those two words sounded almost foreign coming from him.

His lips uneasily shifted before he took a step away, then turned his back. I watched him take a couple strides, leaning my head against the doorframe. “Tommy.”

He paused, looking over his shoulder with a grimace as if he expected me to start yelling or throw something at him. Once he had stopped, though, I realized I didn’t have anything to say. The shuffling of Griffin trying to be discrete and spy behind me came to my ears.

“Stay. For a little bit. Griffin and I are about to make cookies,” I softly said, suddenly wanting him closer when he had started walking away. Seeing him somehow made me feel better about everything, even if it was him who had made me feel so horrible in the first place.

Tommy blinked, mouth opening into a wordless gape as he faced me.

“Chocolate chip.” I allowed a small smile. He gulped, pulling himself together as he buried his hands into the pockets of his basketball shorts.

“O-okay.” His eyes were questioning as he walked past, but I simply nodded then shut the door after him.

About forty minutes later—creating a mess that would have made Lilia cross herself and say a Catholic prayer—Tommy and Griffin were playing a card game as I began to clean up. I didn’t know what game exactly, but judging by the way Tommy was constantly muttering PG profanities, I was guessing that Griffin kicked ass at it.

Normally, I would have complained and made them help me, but I figured it was best to just let them play their game at the counter. Tommy and I hadn’t been talking much, anyway. Every now and then we’d catch each other’s eye. He’d ask me about soccer conditioning or something, I’d reply, then I’d continue to clean and he’d continue to lose to Griffin. He was being careful.

“How are you doing this? Seriously, you’re ridiculous.” Tommy shook his head at Griffin, laying down his fan of cards with a hint of frustration.

“Just skilled, Tommy, just skilled,” he smugly replied, gathering all the cards up and beginning to shuffle them. “Another round?”

Tommy looked at me for some kind of backup, but I raised my hands up in surrender. I didn’t have an answer to Griffin’s luck. Scooping the last of the chocolate chip cookies off the cooling rack and onto the platter we had piled the rest, I sat the plate down on the counter.

“There,” I smiled, arranging them into something resembling a pyramid. “It’s perfect.”

Right on time, Kendall whizzed by, grabbing a cookie from the bottom and causing the whole stack of them to tumble down.

“Yummy,” she mumbled after taking a bite, making me feel a fraction better about the disturbance as Tommy tried helping me re-create the pile. Her hair was up in an ordinary ponytail, and the only makeup she was wearing was waterproof mascara. Somewhat grudgingly, I realized I never looked that good and carefree in the bare minimums. “They taste good, you guys. Nothing like dad’s poisonous attempts.”

Griffin fervently nodded after putting down the cards, taking a cookie off the top and eating what must have been his eighth cookie of the day, not to mention all the cookie dough he had inhaled earlier. “Almost as good as Lilia’s.”

“Hey, that was your last one,” I reminded him, throwing a Because I Say So look his way.

“I haven’t made cookies in such a long time,” Tommy mused, looking up with a light expression that squeezed me. This was a much softer side of him that I hadn’t gotten to know yet.

He looked gorgeous, sitting there with his elbows on the counter. I could never get over that: the effortless way he grabbed my attention and held onto it. His cheeks were slightly pink from hovering over the oven as we took the cookies out, hair a complete mess from running his hand through it so many times. With his worn gray hoodie on, there was something undeniably boyish—young and careless about him.

Shaking my head to rid it of the stupid way I wanted to stare, I raised an eyebrow.

“That’s a sad, sad thing, Mr. Rose.” I turned around and continued cleaning up as I could feel his stare on the back of my head. The whole time, I could feel him watching me—probably trying to figure out why I was being so nice. Maybe he found me just as hard to read as I find him.

But, judging how he read my weakness at the shed, that was probably wrong.

“I have to be at the dock in fifteen minutes.” Kendall walked to me and bumped my hip with hers. I glanced at the clock, then to where Tommy was picking a cookie apart, piece by piece. He looked as young as Griffin, in that moment.

“Tommy, you could stay here and wait until I get back. It should only be like, a twenty minute round-trip,” I tried, getting out of the way as Kendall started wiggling again. She had toned down her excitement when she realized Tommy Rose was in the house, but couldn’t contain it all the way.

He looked around the room, shifting like he was sitting on something bumpy, then shook his head. “That’s okay. I just...I wanted to stop by.”

Tommy got to his feet, wiping his hands of the crumbs. Griffin slyly reached over and took another cookie, thinking I was too preoccupied to notice. Without a second look his way, I gently took it cookie out of his hand. “Okay. Let me walk you to the door.”

The two of us quietly walked to the foyer, awkwardly pausing as Tommy opened the door. Stopping, he turned toward me, lips poised with something to say. I timidly waited for him to speak, pressing my tongue against the roof of my mouth.

“I, uh,” Tommy said, scratching his nose and looking past me. “I have a lot I want to- that I should, I- there’s a lot we need to talk about.”

I nodded, shuffling my right foot back and forth against the wooden floor. “Yeah.” Like that one word helped.

“So...I’ll see you tonight.” He practically sprinted out the door with his long, fluid strides before his words could reach me. I watched him as he swung into his car, started it up then pulled out of the driveway: out of sight.

“Tommy’s acting weird.”

Kendall’s voice scared me, ripping me from my thoughts. Her arms were crossed as she stared down the road, like she had any information to base that statement on.

I cleared my throat and shut the door, shrugging. “He’s interesting, that’s for sure.” Putting my hand on her shoulder, I ushered her toward the stairs. “Hurry up and grab your stuff. I have to get you there soon.”

Kendall beamed at the thought, then ran up the stairs, humming merrily all the way.

Why couldn’t she be like this every day?

☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼