Homesick

“At least pretend like you’re having fun, Tate,” Nick says, looping his fingers through her short-shorts and tugging her playfully. He leans towards her face, fixing the sunglasses on top of his head, and says, low, “the 4-hour drive here wasn’t fun, but we’re here now, aren’t we?”

Tatum, frowning, despite her promises to herself to be nicer to Nick, looks up at the waterpark attractions surrounding them and crosses her arms bitterly across her chest. It’s hot, and Mr and Mrs. Marshall ditched her and Nick so they could have ‘private time,’ and Nick is showing off his lean, bare chest to all the girls who pass by like his girlfriend isn’t right next to him, and she’s fucking thirsty, but no - she’s supposed to smile through all of these inconveniences anyway and go on like she’s having the time of her life. It’s bad enough Wyatt was forced to tag along with Nick’s parents since they were so adamant on her and Nick having a date, and now Nick is dragging her around and flirting along the way.

“You like to just piss me off, don’t you?” Tatum asks, refusing to squint up at his drooping form.

“Th’fuck did I do this time?” he asks, a hint of mock in his gruff voice. This only pisses Tatum off enough to shove him rudely away in front of a small group of giggling, bikini-wearing teenagers and make them look, shocked. “Th’fuck, Tate?” he gasps, scrambling to stay on his feet and managing to do so with slight struggle. “What’s your damage?”

“You know what,” Tate hisses, finally looking him dead in the eyes and glaring. “Let’s just go get a drink or something, alright?” She doesn’t even know why she tries; Nick is a dick and obviously will always be a dick, so she’s back to hating him again.

Nick fixes his sunglasses on his dark-brown head again, shrugging curtly at her and pointing in the direction of a stand. “It’s expensive, but I’ll buy you something, ‘kay? So chill, Tate; you’re making a scene.”

“Your ugly-ass purple swimming trunks are making a scene,” Tatum mutters before storming past him and towards the stand. She gets up to it and asks the vendor for a bottle of water; he nods, but stares directly at her barely-covered breasts. Noticing instantly, she obstructs his line of sight with her arms and shoots the old, sweaty man a look. “Hurry, please.”

Nick gets over by the time the vendor hands her the bottle and she hurriedly pries it open and takes long gulps while Nick pays the man. “Thank you, sir,” Nick salutes the vendor, puts an arm around Tatum’s shoulders, and leads her away, only for her to shrug from his grip. “What?” Nick asks incredulously, raising a thick, brown eyebrow. “I bought you water, Tate, and you’re still mad?”

Tatum finishes up with her final gulp, sighs contentedly, and then responds, calmly, “I’m not surprised that you think buying me water is gonna make me wanna be touched by you.” She tosses the water bottle out and shakes her head, tucking some strands of hair out of her face and palming the clips in her hair to make sure its properly holding back her fringe. “‘M not surprised at all.”

“That water was two dollars and fifty cents, Tate. Two dollars and fifty cents!” He puts an arm back around her shoulders and leans in close, smiling. “I’d call that love and some real dedication, eh?”

Tatum rolls her eyes, but doesn’t remove his arm. “I’d call coming out in public with those purple swimming trunks real dedication.”

“Fuck, girl - you have something against my shorts, don’t you?”

“It’s not flattering,” she sniffs arrogantly, glancing around at the commotion around them. There are lots of families with small children rushing around in towels and heading towards either the shaded, resting area or the water rides, pleasant and carefree smiles on their faces. Some students that look about Tatum and Nick’s ages are also wandering around in tight clusters, frowning underneath the persistent rays of sun hitting their faces and burning their skin. Tatum thanks Wyatt for remembering to bring their sunscreen since, otherwise, she’d look redder than a tomato.

“They don’t seem to mind,” Nick challenges, tilting his chin towards a few girls standing by an ice cream vendor, glancing at him as he glances back, winking a blue eye and making them squirm.

Tatum, finding this to be the finally strike, slaps Nick’s arm off of her shoulder and quickly storms off, wrapping self-conscious arms around her baby blue bikini-top again. She didn’t expect her boyfriend to follow, but he does, grabbing her by her pale arm and tugging her back towards him. Tatum decides she’ll hear what he has to say before she storms off again, so she bitterly lets herself be turned around to face Nick.

“Woah, woah, Tate,” he says gently, as if trying to tame a wild animal. “I was jus’ trying to get you mad.”

“Good job,” she rolls her eyes to the bright sky overhead.

“I just didn’t know you’d get jealous,” Nick continues, ignoring her jab. He narrows his eyes thoughtfully at her, searching for any emotion other than anger and annoyance in her fair face. “I thought you didn’t even wanna be with me?”

Tatum’s a little put off by that, not knowing quite what to say. She isn't denying it - she felt jealous, but she didn’t really know if she wanted to admit that out loud, to Nick of all people. His ego is already as huge as the amusement park and any verbal hints from Tatum that she wants him to be tame and obedient when dating her, even when she didn’t want to be in the relationship, it would make him explode with superiority. Nick is already told on a daily basis that he’s an attractive, well-behaved, perfect young man; Tatum refuses to be another ego-stroker in his life. Absolutely refuses.

“It just makes me look bad,” she begins, half-lying. “When you’re looking at other girls with your arm around me, y’know? We look like a bad couple when you’re supposed to be acting all good and stuff around me.” She looks him in the eyes and nods slowly. “Understand?”

Nick’s pleased smile drops and he turns a little serious, nodding back. “Yeah. I understand.” Tatum thanks the lord for evading that successfully as Nick wraps an arm back around her shoulders and leads her on but keeps his eyes within the safe zone, watching little children and their parents and shit.

They get on a couple of rides with Tatum between Nick’s legs, his long arms wrapped around her body as they slide down some water slides and sit in boat rides and all sorts of other events that make Tatum’s hair dampen and adrenaline spike. After a couple of more rides after that, Tatum has had enough, and Nick evidently does, too, by the way there’s this exhausted look in his face. When she complains about her feet hurting Nick carries her around the park and straight to the spot where his family had set up camp for them to rest.

Mr and Mrs. Marshall aren’t there yet, and neither is Wyatt, so Nick sets Tatum carefully down on the laid out towels and lowers himself down next to her, sighing miserably and rubbing at his arms. Tatum gets an apple out of the basket Mrs. Marshall brought and grins at Nick. “What, Nicholas? Was I too heavy for you?”

Nick frowns at the sound of his real name and shakes his head. “Naw - you’re pretty light. It’s just walking for about a mile with about 120 pounds in my arms gets a little much, eh?” He crosses his legs and searches through the basket for anything that isn’t fruit or vegetables.

“One-hundred thirty pounds,” Tatum clarifies, giggling. Taking a bite from her the apple in one hand, she uses the other to carefully smooth some random strands of damp, dark brown hair from Nick’s sharp face. She’s feeling a little appreciative for him for being considerate to her needs and, besides, he looks cute like this, all wet and glistening with both water and sweat. His blue eyes are shining under the overwhelming light of the sun and his skin is visibly tan. If only he wasn’t a dick, Tatum thinks. Then he’d be a perfect guy.

“One thirty?” Nick pauses to look at her, stunned. “Wow - you look and felt lighter than that.” And then he puffs his chest out proudly and winks charmingly at her. “I guess that means I’m stronger than I thought.”

“Oh, shut up,” she scoffs before biting harshly into her apple. Through an open mouth, she finishes, “I thought you were complimenting me or something, but turns out you were just stroking your own ego again.”

Nick laughs, but says nothing more about the matter, resuming his search for actual food.

-

Wyatt and Mr and Mrs. Marshall finally show up after Nick and Tatum share more pointless conversations over light snacks and the smoldering sun. Wyatt’s hair looks a lot redder when wet, and its dripping down into his flushed face, his green eyes wide and wet and glass-like. His bare chest is really white and lanky compared to Nick's, but Tatum thinks it’s the cutest thing she’s ever seen.

Jumping up immediately, she wraps him in a hug and whispers against his neck, “oh wow, Wy - you’re adorable.” She feels the heels of his hands touch both sides of her hips and he lets a laugh out at that; she can feel the rumble in his chest as he does so. It only makes her hold onto him tighter, swinging him side to side affectionately.

“She never does that to me,” Nick jokes, getting to his feet to greet his parents.

“They’re siblings, Nicholas,” Mrs. Marshall says miserably, not getting the joke because she’s too exhausted to. Her floral, one-piece swimming piece is clinging to her round body and her hair is tied messily back and on top of her head. Mr. Marshall looks as miserable, just silently packing up the things and tapping Nick’s left calf twice for a quiet plea of assistance.

Tatum finally unwraps herself from Wyatt’s neck and watches as the two men pack up and Mrs. Marshall dabs her pink-tinted face with her violet towel. One hand is still on Tatum’s hip as Wyatt addresses her. “Had fun?” he asks, looking her in the face for any look that gives away what she doesn’t tell.

“It was fine,” Tatum says vaguely. “I’m just really hot and I wanna head back to the hotel already.”

Everyone walks out of the crowded waterpark and to the parking lot in silence. Wyatt offers Tatum his t-shirt since hers is in the bag Mr. Marshall is holding, and Tatum is too shy to ask for it, especially since he looks royally pissed off, and she breathes a, “thanks,” to him before putting it on over her bikini top. Wyatt pats her back and smiles, and Tatum is thankful that at least Wyatt is in a good mood, despite the shit day he had having to spend his extended weekend break off with Nick’s parents.

Tatum is squeezed in the backseat between Nick and Wyatt during the drive back. Mr. Marshall turns on his usual indie music and Tatum leans her damp head on Wyatt’s bone-y, pale shoulder, letting her eyes flutter closed and mind sink away to the calming beats. She didn’t realize how tired she was until she’s finally given the chance to wind down; before she knows it, she’s fallen asleep, and she wakes up in Nick’s arms, being carried down the hotel hallways and to her room.

“Wow,” she says weakly, glancing around tiredly. “Did I . . . shit - did I fall asleep?”

“Yeah,” Nick says, his voice in that familiar low grunt he has whenever he’s tired himself. “Your brother tried to carry you to your room, but he was too weak to.” Even in his haze of tired, Nick smiles at this and has to chuckle evilly to himself, shaking his dark-brown head of hair.

Tatum is too out of it to scold Nick for his diss; she blinks back some sleepiness from her eyes and watches as Nick manages to open her door with her key card, her still in his arms, and enter the room handless. The door closes heavily behind them and he sets her gently down onto the bed closest to the door, sighing, exasperated, when he finally has extra weight off of him. “God,” he mutters, squinting his eyes and rubbing at the back of his neck. “What a long day.”

“I know,” Tatum says from her spot on the bed. She rolls over on the mattress and curls in on herself, some, sinking into the springs of the bed. She closes her eyes as she says, “and it’s still day, too.”

“Dad said dinner is in a couple of hours,” Nick tells her. “So if you’re up for it by then, be sure to get showered and dressed first.”

“Yeah,” Tatum sighs.

Nick stands there for a moment, watching her drift back into sleep, and feels an aching need to do something; it’s the least she can do for a thank you of him carrying her around everywhere. Or, at least, that’s what he tells himself.

So he leans over her and pulls her shoulder, making her lie halfway on her back, and presses his lips to hers. She stiffens at first, but it’s like something in her says what the hell, and she gives him a soft kiss back, quickly turning away when she’s had her couple of seconds of fun.

“Okay,” she pats his arm without opening her eyes. “You can leave now, Nicholas.”

“Nick,” he grumbles, straightening back up.

“Nick - yeah,” Tatum mumbles before getting comfortable on the bed again. “Goodnight, blue-eyed boy.”

“Goodnight,” Nick says as he walks towards the door and opens it with slight struggle. “Blue-eyed girl.”

She lies there, listening to the door closing behind him, before she drifts off into slumber.