Razorblade Regrets And Revenge Renegades
Chapter 3
Being uncomfortably wet never hurt anybody. In fact, it had proved to be quite fun on occasions. The public beach was located near a large row of jagged cliffs and heavy forest; a much more private area that me and my friends had often hung out in. The trees shaded out the heat of the sun and the large rocks often proved to be marvelous diving boards when we fell into a daring mood.
Tom was swimming in the deep water below, having stripped down to only his plaid linen boxers. My t-shirt aided in some protection from the insecure feeling of over-exposure as I laughed at him. The morning sun sent glares through my overly large sunglasses and my toes could almost touch the salty water reaching up the stony cliff.
Even now, Tommy still continues to call me names, teasing for me to come down and swim with him.
"I am not a chicken," I tell him loudly. "Just you wait..."
"Prove it," he taunts.
"Fine then, I will," I boast with a witty smirk as I pull myself to my feet and walk across the small fragments of branches and stones spread across the hot sand. I hop up the jagged rocks to a higher peak, not far from where my perch was just moments ago.
"Where are you going," Tom calls after me with a small sense of concern: the concern that I would somehow leave him behind.
I point to the tallest summit, peering down to the long drop below before reaching my destination and announcing, "Up here."
As he tries to keep himself afloat, Tom shields the sun from his eyes, squinting to look up at me. "Is it deep there," he asks.
I shrug. "I dunno."
"Then what are you doing," he asks. "Get down from there!"
"Why? I'm not a chicken."
"I know that," he says. "I was kidding, now come down."
"No- I want to jump here. I'll find out if it's deep or not when I get down there," I tell him, pointing to the water below.
"But you don't know if it's safe or not," he says, boring me in his mature lecture of concern.
"Oh well, it doesn't matter," I tell him. "Just watch me!"
And with that, I feel the adrenaline rush take over as the wind fights with gravity over my body and loose limbs. I manage to splash safely into the water before feeling the seaweed tangle in my toes beneath. I've landed in an uncomfortable mucky area, yet I manage to stay under as long as I can. I call it an immature joke; something my friends and I endure every single day.
It's only a matter of seconds before Tom's lean body is splashing through the water towards me, grasping under the water for one of my limbs or strands of hair. His finger muscles form tightly around my arm as he pulls me to the surface, quietly calling my name out to me in repetition as he begins to tap my cheek lightly with his finger. I don't know how he can't tell I'm faking it...
When he starts cussing out loud, I know he's frustrated and I slowly open one eye before the other and stare up at him.
"Hey Tom," I say quietly, a smile looming brightly over my face.
His eyes half brimmed with tears as he looks down in disgust at me. I can tell he's angry, even for Tom. It isn't long before he proves it, dropping me carelessly into the water, leaving me shocked and gulping for air as I push myself up to the sunny surface.
Tom's already out of the water, and nearly dressed by the time I begin swimming back to shore; calling his name. The water is weighing me down, making my steps sloppy and dripping of my clothes and hair. By now, my cheerful mood has also been disrupted and I'm screaming out for him to stop as I run across the beach after him, struggling to gather my belongings in my arms along the way.
Tom was swimming in the deep water below, having stripped down to only his plaid linen boxers. My t-shirt aided in some protection from the insecure feeling of over-exposure as I laughed at him. The morning sun sent glares through my overly large sunglasses and my toes could almost touch the salty water reaching up the stony cliff.
Even now, Tommy still continues to call me names, teasing for me to come down and swim with him.
"I am not a chicken," I tell him loudly. "Just you wait..."
"Prove it," he taunts.
"Fine then, I will," I boast with a witty smirk as I pull myself to my feet and walk across the small fragments of branches and stones spread across the hot sand. I hop up the jagged rocks to a higher peak, not far from where my perch was just moments ago.
"Where are you going," Tom calls after me with a small sense of concern: the concern that I would somehow leave him behind.
I point to the tallest summit, peering down to the long drop below before reaching my destination and announcing, "Up here."
As he tries to keep himself afloat, Tom shields the sun from his eyes, squinting to look up at me. "Is it deep there," he asks.
I shrug. "I dunno."
"Then what are you doing," he asks. "Get down from there!"
"Why? I'm not a chicken."
"I know that," he says. "I was kidding, now come down."
"No- I want to jump here. I'll find out if it's deep or not when I get down there," I tell him, pointing to the water below.
"But you don't know if it's safe or not," he says, boring me in his mature lecture of concern.
"Oh well, it doesn't matter," I tell him. "Just watch me!"
And with that, I feel the adrenaline rush take over as the wind fights with gravity over my body and loose limbs. I manage to splash safely into the water before feeling the seaweed tangle in my toes beneath. I've landed in an uncomfortable mucky area, yet I manage to stay under as long as I can. I call it an immature joke; something my friends and I endure every single day.
It's only a matter of seconds before Tom's lean body is splashing through the water towards me, grasping under the water for one of my limbs or strands of hair. His finger muscles form tightly around my arm as he pulls me to the surface, quietly calling my name out to me in repetition as he begins to tap my cheek lightly with his finger. I don't know how he can't tell I'm faking it...
When he starts cussing out loud, I know he's frustrated and I slowly open one eye before the other and stare up at him.
"Hey Tom," I say quietly, a smile looming brightly over my face.
His eyes half brimmed with tears as he looks down in disgust at me. I can tell he's angry, even for Tom. It isn't long before he proves it, dropping me carelessly into the water, leaving me shocked and gulping for air as I push myself up to the sunny surface.
Tom's already out of the water, and nearly dressed by the time I begin swimming back to shore; calling his name. The water is weighing me down, making my steps sloppy and dripping of my clothes and hair. By now, my cheerful mood has also been disrupted and I'm screaming out for him to stop as I run across the beach after him, struggling to gather my belongings in my arms along the way.