Amy
I was annoyed. Truthfully, I was annoyed most of the time, but today I had a legitimate reason.
Just beyond the buoys, the obnoxious guy from yesterday floated once again. I tried to ignore him, knowing he was doing this just to annoy me. Okay, maybe not, but at least part of it was intentional. I could just feel him laughing to himself all the way out there. So obnoxious.
Since it was Sunday, the beach was not as crowded. The waves were calmer than usual, and I desperately wanted to swim.
I had always loved swimming. My mom used to say I was part fish. She enrolled me in swimming lessons when I was six, and she had to drag me out after every lesson. By the time I was thirteen, I started volunteering at the beach, going through training, and slowly working my way up to lifeguard status. And now here I was, sitting thirty feet away from the water, frying in the sun while everyone else enjoyed it.
Made perfect sense, right?
And, bonus: I had an obnoxious swimmer who refused to listen to the rules.
I scanned the beach, counting the number of people. There were seven total, excluding Obnoxious Guy. I checked my phone, which told me it was half past two. My shift was ending.
I climbed down and pulled off my t-shirt. The sun hit my bare shoulders and I could feel the heat on my skin. I adjusted the straps of my red swimsuit and pulled back my curly hair into a messy bun. My feet sank as I walked through the sand, pausing to check the people around me again. There were now only four people I needed to look out for.
I crept closer to the waves and let the water hit my toes. It was freezing, of course. I decided not to go all the way in, just to my knees. I didn’t have any extra shorts with me, and I didn’t feel like walking home all wet.
Plus, my mom hated it when I made a mess. I hardly ever did now, but when I was younger she nagged me about it all the time. She hated dirty feet on her kitchen floor, sandy clothes in the washer, and anything that required a big cleanup. Once when I was seven I spent all day at the beach with my dad, and when we came home my mom wouldn’t let us in the house until every grain of sand was gone. My dad made this into a game and chased me with the hose until it was dark. We were, by then, both soaked. My dad was a kid at heart, spontaneous and outgoing. He was my partner in crime in anything I did. It was the reason why I got along with him so well, and the reason my mom didn’t. She once had been like him earlier in their relationship, but after she had me she felt it was time to grow up and be serious. When my dad didn’t agree, it complicated things.
I looked up from the water and gazed out at the sky at the horizon. I used to wonder if it was possible to ever reach that point where the sky and water met. I turned back to the beach and found it empty. Even Obnoxious Guy wasn’t there anymore. I noticed Paul in the distance making his way to the lifeguard stand. He waved when he saw me and I waved back, walking toward him.
“Whoa—scared everyone away, did we?” he said, grinning and looking around.
I rolled my eyes and shrugged. “Well, you know how it is.”
I grabbed my bag and shirt from the chair and climbed down. “I think I’m going to sit out here for awhile.”
“Suit yourself; I’ll keep an eye on you.” He winked. I hit him with my bag and he laughed, climbing up the chair.
I tied my t-shirt around my waist and put my sunglasses on. The sand was almost too hot on my toes, but it felt good. Whenever my feet were aching, hot sand was the best remedy. I walked along the shore for a while, watching as the tide grew. The waves steadily increased, and the sound of the crashes became louder.
The air was colder now, and I slid into my oversized t-shirt. One of my dad’s. After he left, my mom called the Salvation Army the next day to pick up all the stuff he had left behind. She felt the faster she got rid of it, the faster she’d be able to get over him. I watched from the porch steps as she hauled box after box out of the house. She had asked me to help, but I didn’t. I just sat there, watching everything that had been a part of me in some way or another be put into brown boxes and given to someone else. I couldn’t picture anyone else wearing his “Running a Marathon Would Kill Me” shirt like it had been their shirt all along.
When my mom had finished, she went back inside to smoke, and I sat there still watching as the guy boxed up what was left on the yard. When he finished, he walked up to me and bent down. I had held in my tears the entire time, but I could only imagine the look on my face.
“Did you want to grab a couple things before I leave?” he asked me.
I remember nodding and following him to the truck. When he finally left, I snuck back in the house with five t-shirts, an old wallet, a baseball glove, and a portrait of the three of us taken a few years back. Having those things still in the house kept me from feeling as though the three of us had never been a family. This was, I’m sure, exactly what my mom wanted to forget.
I sat down on the sand, pulling my knees under the shirt. I sighed, closing my eyes, listening to the waves, getting lost in their lullaby. I heard a shuffling and someone plop down next to me. I tensed and opened my eyes to find a smoothie five inches away from my face. I jerked my head back and gawked at the guy sitting next to me. It was Obnoxious Guy. It was the first time I had seen him up close and dry, and I did my best not to stare. Between his tan skin, dark hair, and piercing green eyes, I wasn’t sure if he was gorgeous or just looked different from every East Coast boy I had ever come across.
“What are you doing?” I demanded.
He grinned. “Enjoying the sunset.” He pushed the smoothie toward me. “For you.”
I blinked at him, ignoring the smoothie. He was staring at me expectantly and I stared back, unsure of the point of the staring contest. I noticed his long eyelashes and the slight slanted shape of his eyes. The edges of his mouth slowly curled and my stomach fluttered. I turned away.
“I’m fine,” I said.
“Oh, come on,” he said. “This is my way of apologizing for yesterday. I didn’t mean to scare you with my swimming abilities.” He stumbled over his words.
“Swimming abilities?” I snorted.
“Yeah, obviously,” he began, “you thought no one would be able to swim that far out and so you came to rescue me, thinking I was drowning, when really I was just relaxing.”
I cleared my throat. He couldn’t be serious. “Do you see that rock all the way out there?” I pointed toward the direction of the water.
“Yeah.”
“I used to swim there every night when I was twelve.” I started to get up. “You can float—I’ll give you that.”
“Hey, wait!” he called after me. “Really, take the smoothie.”
“No, thanks,” I said, walking away and feeling empowered. But I hoped he wasn’t going to start stalking me now.