Cry Wolf

She stood against the shoreline, feet chilled to the bone with each new wave that lapped over them. Her chestnut colored hair billowed around her shoulders, whipped across her sunglasses, and curled over the shoulder on the opposite side. Despite the biting cold against her sensitive toes, the burn of much welcomed summer sun tingled against her skin. After months of waiting, summer had come rolling in, bringing along with it the typical setting Brielle had gotten used to in Centerport.

Civilians lined the ocean waters, their colorful floating devices littering the endless expanse. Screams of children, and cries of their worried parents reached her anticipating ears. Teenage girls clad in suggestive bathing suits, most of which leaving too little to the imagination, laid out on towels, rubbing tanning oil on their skin to prepare themselves to work up to the perfect tan. Whereas the males in town walked around with their bathing suits on, their chiseled chests puffed out in hopes of finding someone attractive enough to tempt even their unreachable interests.

Her lungs tugged in her chest, a usual side effect of the heat the island found itself graced with every year. Not that she complained. Summer in Centerport was the best time of the year. Children, now freed from school, spent their time either at home, riding around on their bikes up the windy streets the town grew known for besides the ocean and Yacht Club, in their pools, or at the beaches. Whereas the teenagers dabbled in more...suggestive activities. By day they were one way, by night another.

And it was that very nightlife summer was known for around Centerport. Parties were plentiful, and no one was ever left out. Those who were titled as “freaks” and “geeks,” all the way to “scene” and in between were invited, and were never uninvolved with the latest party. Unless they wanted to be, and had the choice of not attending. But, like most others, it was a time to sneak away from home and make a toast to the wild summer ahead of them year in and year out. The opportunity was much too great to pass up.

They would dance to music which throbbed to the beat of their hearts, faces bent low in heated conversations. Hookups between the best friends and most hated enemies would be spurned, and new relationships would blossom. Word around town would then spread like wildfire, the blazing inferno too great to be subdued—that is, until the next new rumor ignited another spark, and started the chain reaction once again.

This year would be different, however. It was the last summer before everyone Brielle grew up with went off to college. One last big bang before the show was over, the lights dimmed and the curtain closed, ending a pivotal part in their lives. It was also the summer she decided she would tell Kiefer she loved him. Kiefer, that best friend every girl had. The best friend her feelings shifted for earlier in the year, when one day it felt as if her eyes snapped open and the pieces fell into place. As if perfection proved tangible.

After all these months of bottling up her emotions, she couldn't take it anymore. This feeling, as if these emotions were overflowing and spilling onto the floor, was like nothing she experienced before. If this wasn't love, she didn't know if it existed. This was her last chance, and she couldn't—wouldn't—pass it up. There was too much at stake, she knew that, understood that, and stuffed it away in the back of her mind until the perfect moment came about. She needed time. Just a little longer.

But time didn't stand still. Instead, like the grains of sand she snatched up and clutched within her palm, some always trickled out and tumbled to the floor. No matter what she did they always found some leeway. And like the sand in her palm, time was slipping through her fingers right before her eyes. Always had, always would. For now she lived in the moment, never thinking too far off into the future.

She pulled away from the shore, walking a steady path toward the boardwalk, making sure to avoid all those around her. Murmurs of disapproval aimed in her direction bounced off her ears every once in a while when her feet strayed too close or she stumbled over their things, knocking them over in the process. Faces she'd never seen in her life flashed past her vision, faces she would never remember. Many came to Centerport, but only for a short while to see the harbor, spend time at the immaculate beach, or race at the yacht club. It was the same every year.

Once she reached the boardwalk she took a moment to steady herself, palms resting on the railing. A few younger men walked by, sunglasses pushed up on the bridge of their noses, and glanced over at her, whistling their appreciation. She rolled her eyes. Just a little longer. A little longer and Kiefer's familiar sandy hair would appear, followed by his chiseled jaw, broadened shoulders, and sculpted stomach from years at the gym and running cross country, as well as track, in high school.

He didn't appear, however, and she found herself glancing down at her phone. Three o' clock. He promised her he'd be at their usual spot by two thirty. Kiefer was never late. She inhaled, exhaled and shrugged her shoulders, deciding to not look into things too much more than necessary. Maybe something came up. Maybe he bumped into someone on the way. Or maybe his mother stopped him like she did from time to time, giving him the baked treats she liked to cook up to keep him young—at least, in her mind—and forget that he was going to be nineteen in just a few months.

Her thoughts went interrupted as the sound of a familiar voice reached her ears. Brielle's head whipped around, searching out Kayleigh's head of bouncing blonde curls. She appeared at her side, jostling Brielle's shoulders a bit, eyes widened in what looked to be worry...or excitement. Or both. “Oh my gosh! You won't believe what I just heard!”

Brielle pushed her sunglasses up onto the crown of her head, lips forming a straight line. “What did you just hear?”

She decided to humor Kayleigh. As much as she loved the girl, she was a bit unhinged. Flighty, too. She cared too much about who was dating who, and lacked in remembering much of anything else. Some claimed she'd slept with one of the younger teachers at school to pass his math class and graduate on time with their class, but Brielle waved the rumor away. Kayleigh, as wild as she was, would never do such a thing. Gossiping, however, was her God given talent—if that could be considered one—and she put it to good use. Take then for instance.

“Well, Julie said that Markus said that Andrew told him Kiefer was planning on asking someone out!” Brielle leaned in closer at this, lips tugging into a grin. “I couldn't believe it. I mean, Kiefer hasn't really dated anyone since tenth grade, though I can't see why not. He's one sexy piece of man meat put to waste. But anyway, like I said, Andrew told Markus—who told Julie—who told me that Kiefer was asking someone out. You're not going to believe who it is.”

Brielle's heart throbbed in her chest. This is it, she thought, ready to burst at the seams, He's going to ask me out. That's why he's not here. That's why he's late! He's trying to find the perfect way to say it. She shook her head and put on an emotionless front, one that wouldn't spoil Kayleigh's fun when she no doubt would start to bounce up and down in excitement when she told her Kiefer planned on asking her out.

“Who is it?” Brielle asked, hiding the smile threatening to spread across her face.

Kayleigh bit her lip, hopping up and down like she'd expected her to. “He's asking out Roxanne. Can you believe it? Roxy and Kiefer. I didn't even know they talked, but the girl is so sweet and it's about time someone snatched her up, you know?”

“W-what?” Brielle leaned in closer, worried she hadn't heard right. “Who is he asking out?”

“Roxy,” she said, grimacing. “Come on, be happy for them!”

She forced a sad smile onto her lips. Kayleigh blinked, recognition passing along her features in an instant, her arms reaching out to wrap around her friend's slender shoulders. Brielle shoved her away, lip trembling, and tears threatening to spill over her lashes. Come on, be happy for them! The statement burned in her mind—the word “them” carving a hole into her heart, splitting it open. How, she wondered, can I be happy, when there is someone else in his life now?

Someone that wasn't her.