Get it Right

I walked into the club three days before our competition in Sweden. “Haze,” he smiled and took my bag out of my hand and walked out the door.

I followed him out and watched him toss it in the back of his truck. “What the hell do you think you’re doing,” I yelled.

“You and I are skipping practice today,” he said and I shook my head no. “You practice way too much,” he said, “so we're going to the beach.” I thought about it and then nodded my head, I live so close to the beach, yet I never manage to go to the beach, this would be fun. Plus, it only goes with my reputation and establishes a somewhat bad influence on Matthews. I hopped in his ugly rusted truck; you’d think a rich kid would have a way better looking car. He puts his sunglasses on, “where do you live,” he turned his head toward me.

“Why,” I said unsure.

“We need to pick up your stuff, Haze,” he says and then looks at me, “unless you keep that in your bag, just like you keep that dress in there.”

“Have you been going through my bag,” I rose an eyebrow and he shrugs. “Just go to the beach,” I said, “I’ve got everything I need.”

“You’re wearing that to the beach,” he looked at me unsure.

I rolled my eyes, “I’ve got my club shorts and I always have a tank top.”

“Bathing suit,” he questioned.

I laughed, “I practice in it every day.” He looked at me unsure, I think he thought I was kidding and I began to completely scowl, “hey Richie rich, it’s all I got deal with it.” He shook his head vigorously and turned up the radio until we got to the beach. Carpentaria was further down then Ventura, but it was nicer and less popular. We parked on Linden Avenue, there was no way we were paying for parking, and this was a much better street to walk down, it had all the cute beach stores and the best burger place ever.

We got out of the truck, I grabbed my bag and began walking toward the beach and he grabbed my arm and pulled me the opposite direction. I gave him a confused look as he drags me into a store, “we’re getting you a real suit.” I raise my eyebrow as we pass by the first batch and I grab one and look at the tag.

“Oh no,” I said releasing myself from his grip, “these are way too much, there’s no way.”

“It’s on me,” he says and I shake my head again.

I push the suit at him furiously, “I don’t take handouts.”

“Izzy,” he grabbed my arm and I looked at him crossing my arms expectantly, “pick one out or I’ll tell everyone you sneak into the gym at night.” I open my mouth to protest that he’s there too and he cuts me off, “the worse I could get is a warning, you on the other hand, you’d be suspended, again.” I glare at him, well played. If he’s making me do this, I’m going to make him pay, literally. I try it on quickly and then I take the stupid card out of his hand to pay and we’re on our way to the beach.

The entire walk down to the beach random people, predominately fan girls, came up to Matthews asking for pictures and autographs. I was jealous; don’t get me wrong, I was just as famous, but for all the wrong reasons. The girls around him were all whispering things like “why’s he with her,” or , “it’s probably because he feel s bad.” And then every so often some immature guy yells some type of profanity at me, I’m a common whore according to my rep. A group of three boys yell something that doesn’t bear repeating and I get so frustrated as I watch them snicker across the street. “Why don’t you come over here and say that to my face,” I yell taking a step towards them as I watch them run away. He looks at me and just laughs, finding humor at my expense. “Hilarious,” my voice is harsh, “how nice it must be to be Aiden Matthews,” I cross my arms and walk forward.

“Just ignore it Haze,” he says.

“Easier said than done,” I push my hair aside, “but you wouldn’t understand that.” I can tell he’s struggling to find a response. I shake my head; “forget about it,” I make my way to the bathroom to change, “let’s just have fun.”

I came out wearing my club shorts and a royal blue tank top over my bathing suit. I walked onto the beach since I assumed Aiden took a head start. He was sitting there on a blanket wearing a black shirt and plain red swim trunks. I laughed at him and his wannabe lifeguard look and he cocked his brow, “I guess it’s better than the Speedo,” I continue laughing.

“Funny,” he said and then bent down to his bag, “but not as fun as beating you at a little one on one.” He held up a volleyball and I gave him a nod that said: you’re on. We play three games because we’re both real competitive and because by the end of the third game we’re both pretty wiped.

“Winning takes a lot out of a person,” I say sitting down on the blanket, “I just want to lay down.” A few weeks ago he would have made some uncalled for comment about how I’d know the feeling if I weren’t such a screw up. Thankfully it’s not the case anymore.

Instead he says, “Rematch.” I shake my head no. “Different game,” he says, “we race to the platforms.” He points off in the distance where there are two platforms out by the buoy. “You can lay down when we get out there,” he says taking off his t-shirt getting ready to take off for the water.

My first instinct is to take the challenge as I always do, but then I stop to think. “Matthews,” I put my hands on my hips and look at him like he’s crazy, “you are an Olympic swimmer, I don’t stand a chance.”

“I’ll give you a two minute head start,” he said. I thought and then I nodded as I stripped down to my bathing suit. He looked at me unsure and I gave a questioning look, “I can’t believe that’s the suit you picked,” he totally laughed.

“What,” I looked down at the suit. It was a fifties inspired sailor bikini and I thought it was completely adorable. The colors were red white and blue and I looked up smiling, “I seriously think our uniforms for the Olympics should look like this.”

He shook his head, “you never cease to surprise me.” I looked at him unsure and then he continued, “by the way your two minutes is starting,” he pauses, “now.” I ran into the water and started swimming through the waves; it’s hard to swim out with the waves constantly pushing you back and it didn’t take long for Matthews to get started. I turned back and he seemed to move super fast. He was on my tail in no time and thank God we were getting close. I reached out for the ladder and started climbing up when he pulled me off. He climbed up and I looked up as he gloated, “I won.”

“Not fair cheater,” I said splashing and then climbing up afterwards only to see that there were people up there staring at both of us.

“You’re Aiden Matthews,” one of them pointed.

“And,” the other one looked unsure, “Isabella Haze.”

“Izzy,” I sat down taking in everyone. Sometimes I forget that people know who we are. There was a group of three teenage girls who were all staring at him, a mother with a ten year old boy and a couple.

“I have to know,” one very brave girl with a death wish stepped forward, “why are you with her, I wouldn’t be caught dead with someone of her status.”

My hands curl into fists and I take a leap at her only to have him hold me back. If I were just a little bigger he wouldn’t be able to keep me from giving her a black eye and a fat lip. It took me a second to calm down and then he let go and I took a second go at it. “Izzy,” he pushed me off the platform, he was laughing as I resurfaced, “cool off.” The girl made a noise, a humph and he turned back. “Don’t talk to her like that,” he says, “I’ll be the first to admit I seriously misjudged this girl.” He pointed at me, “but I’ll never make that mistake again.” It was nice to see someone not only stick up for me, but show respect for me.

I bobbed my head at the girl as if saying: that’s right. She rolled her eyes, “I’ll give her the tabloid photos, but I’d love to hear an explanation for the arrests.” The confrontation is enough for the mother and son to begin their journey back, but everyone else turn their eyes on me.
I roll my eyes as even Matthews has turned around, “first or second arrest.” They all held up a number on their fingers and I think the first won. I sighed thinking about what had happened.
“I was always a somewhat selfish person, I was angry at the world because of what happened to my mother,” I started. Everyone had known about my mother, it was always written up as the reason I probably did all the awful stuff. I sighed, “But not that many people know about my sister, she’s been hospitalized since she was eight. And since then I’d sneak her out and take her down to the pier. She loved it and loved the water she always told me that she wanted to swim out to the boats." I laughed because by boats she had always meant the oil rigs and despite countless attempts to correct her she still called them boats, "But my visits weren’t frequent and became less frequent," I sighed, "and then about two years ago the hospital called me over and I sat at her bed side and watched her die. Holding her hand. And her last words, ‘thanks for always being there for me’. I cried because I wasn’t there for her and I wish I had been. From that moment on I’d always be there for her and anyone else I cared about. I wanted to spread her ashes where she’d want to be, in the ocean, swimming to the boats.” I bit my bottom lip; I’ve only told this story a total of two times, Bri and Jenna. “So I stole a boat to dump her ashes and if I had the chance to do it over,” I looked up at them all, “I’d do it again.” The angry girl just looked down and then they all kind of silently left and it was very quiet. Once they were a little ways away I yelled at her, “Yeah that’s what I thought, bitch.”

“I didn’t know you had a sister,” he looked at me almost sympathetically.

“No one does,” I said coldly, “I’ve made my peace with it.” I looked around and I could tell that it was getting later and the couple, they had gone somewhere either before or in the middle of my story.

“How’d you get arrested the second time,” he looked at me.

I laughed, “You know, I was caught in the middle of a huge drug scandal.”

“The real story,” he said.

“Why,” I whined, “it doesn’t matter, it’s done, who cares.”

“I wanna know,” he said, “I want to know everything about you, everything that people don’t understand, but judge you on.” I darted me eyes away from him and tried to avoid the subject fully.

“But I don’t …” he gave me a look and I glared, “fine.” I moved myself across from him so that now I was facing him and then started, “Jenna has a tendency to date really bad guys despite Bri and my warnings." I laughed at al the trouble Jenna's gotten herself into, "This was by far the worst.”

“She was dating Ju…” I stopped him and nodded and he continued, “the drug lord.” I nodded again.

“Yeah, so my naïve friend told me that something bad was happening that day and I called the cops and found her,” I said, “the problem is I was able to get her out, but not myself. So bad timing, just like most of the tabloid shit, I’m always saving that girls butt at my own expense.” He looked at me unsure, “You don’t have to believe me.”

“I can’t believe you’d do that,” he said.

“I know, I’m stupid, you wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve been told that,” I said bitterly.

“I think it’s noble,” he said.

I blushed before averting my gaze toward the sky, “the sun’s going to go down, we should go back in.” He agreed and we swam in. Today was just a weird day.