Crushes are like fireflies. You can catch them and keep them or you can let them go and watch them fly away.
“Robs, get out here now!” Whit is the most impatient person I know and I’m taking too long putting on the bikini she let me borrow. She starts pounding her head against the door.
“No,” I refuse.
“Just let me see how it looks on you.”
“No.” I glance down at the skimpy hot pink bikini I’m wearing, and then fiddle with the thin ties on the sides. What if someone pulls on them? I shudder when I think about the bikini bottoms falling down and me giving every beach-goer a crotch shot. “I feel naked.”
“I’m sure you look fine.”
“I wish you would have just let me wear the one piece I brought.”
“A one piece?” Her voice hikes. “Who are you my grandma?” I touch the bare, exposed skin on my stomach and feel the need to wrap myself up in a towel. “Just come out,” Whit whines.
I’m not insecure about my body. I like my figure. I like my curves. But I’ve been a modest dresser and person my whole life and I’m having a hard time adjusting to the change now.
I realize that if I don’t come out now, I’ll have to listen to her whine for what feels like eternity. “Fine.” So I suck up my insecurities and open the door.
Whit’s mouth drops open and her hazel eyes widen. “O.M.G Robs! You look hot!”
I frown. “I don’t feel hot.” At the moment, I’m thinking of my navy blue Speedo that’s carefully tucked away in one of the drawers. “I feel like I need to be covered up more.”
I fold my arms over my stomach and Whit steps closer, uncrossing my arms and pinning them to my sides. “Stop it,” she scolds. “You look great.” Then she scans me from head to toe as a sinister smirk curls on her lips. “Drake Robertson, prepare to eat your heart out.”
I laugh and shake my head as Whit snatches her beach bag and walks out of the room. I stand still for a moment, grab my towel from the bedpost and wrap it around my body before walking out the door.
****
The beach is a picturesque scene. A group of people in the far left corner play beach volleyball and I watch the round ball sail through the air as one of the female players jumps up and spikes it over the net. The waves are choppy today and several kids have boogie boards, skimming along the surf. And it’s beyond crowded, so crowded I’m not sure we’ll find a spot to put our towels. I notice Sadie a few feet to my right and she’s wearing a neon yellow two piece, lying on her stomach, texting. I meet Whit’s gaze and she raises an eyebrow. “You wanna?”
I tilt my head to the side and slit my eyes. “What do you think?”
“I think you’d rather choke on your own vomit.”
I laugh and go back to surveying the area. My surveillance stops when I see the bright red lifeguard chair. I scan it slowly seeing a new girl with dark brown hair and no Drake anywhere. My heart sinks and falls out of my chest cavity, a thick mass of disappointment sitting in my stomach. I was so hoping that I’d see him today.
Then Whit yells, “Over there!”
I follow her finger with my eyes and see a spot a few feet away from the volleyball net. “No way,” I protest. “We’ll be in the direct line of fire.”
But Whit doesn’t hear me. She’s already on her way over there.
Following her, I step over bodies, trying to find empty spots on the sand to step. “Sorry,” I apologize as I accidentally step on a woman’s hair. She doesn’t even flinch or notice. She’s sleeping, oiled up like a greased pig and I bet she doesn’t even know that her back is so red that she looks like one of the lobster’s Maine is famous for.
When I finally make it over to Whit she’s already laying out her towel. I throw my stuff down. “Didn’t you hear me back there? Do you have a death wish? There’s a good chance a volleyball is going to smack one of us in the face!”
She nods with a sly grin. “I know.”
I stare at her incredulously. “Are you kidding me? I’d like to make it through the day without a concussion!”
Whit puts her sunglasses on and gets cozy on her towel. Then she nods toward the volleyball playing field. “Do you see all the hot guys playing?” She props herself up on her elbows and lowers her sunglasses. “Well, if they hit us with a volleyball they’ll have to come get it.” I grumble and Whit tilts her head to the side. “Quit complaining and lie down. You can remind me how brilliant I am later.”
I reach into my bag and pull out an extra towel. I lie it down on the sand, then slowly peel away the towel wrapped around my stomach. Glancing around self-consciously, I realize that no one is paying attention and suddenly feel a little better. Not long after I lie down on my back I hear Whit’s light snoring and decide to listen to some music.
After putting in my ear buds, and setting the timer on my iPhone, I roll over onto my stomach and let the blazing hot sun beat down on me. I’m certain I’d be able to hear my skin sizzling if it weren’t for the Jack Johnson
song that’s blasting through my ear buds.