Fisher's Light

“Fisher, I feel like I haven’t seen you all day,” Melanie Sanders purrs into my ear. “I’ve missed you.”

Bobby slides in on the other side of the table next to her best friend, Trish McCallister, and drops his arm around her shoulders. “Did you miss me too, Trish?”

Trish smacks his hand away, grabs her soda from the table and dumps it into his lap. “Fuck you, Bobby.”

Everyone at the table laughs at Bobby’s expense as Trish storms away and he grabs a few napkins to try and sop up the mess in his crotch.

Extricating myself from Melanie’s arms and scooting a few inches away, I try not to wince as I move. “Sorry, babe. I’ve been busy. How about you run up and get Bobby a new Pepsi?”

Pulling a few dollars out of my pocket, I toss them in front of her. She scoops them up and scurries away.

Bobby laughs and rolls his eyes at me. “Well, I think that concludes the list. You have now fucked the entire female student body. I don’t understand how none of these girls hate your guts.”

“I’ve learned to be polite when I tell them I won’t be repeating our time together, unlike yourself. Seriously, man, you need to learn how be a little more smooth. Making out with Angela two hours after you screwed Trish probably wasn’t your best move,” I remind him.

“Eh, bitches be trippin,’ and all that shit,” Bobby shrugs.

Movement catches my eye over his left shoulder and I crane my neck to see around him as a girl with strawberry blonde hair trips over someone’s bag and flails all over the place to try and keep her tray from toppling to the ground. A few people laugh at her expense and her face flushes bright red as she hurries to an empty table and quickly sits down. She keeps her head bowed and her long hair covers her face while she picks up a fork and mindlessly moves the food around on her tray. A noise from the front of the cafeteria makes her jerk her head up and she looks right at me. Her eyes are so blue I can see the color from all the way over here. She’s not like most of the girls that go to this school who barely wear enough clothes to cover their tits and ass and slap on enough war paint to put a clown to shame. I wouldn’t call her gorgeous. She was more along the lines of cute with her fresh, make-up free face, tiny nose and full pink lips that she nervously licks as she continues to look at me. There’s just something about her that makes my dick stir in my jeans and I don’t know whether to be pissed off that some chick who is so different from my usual has caught my eye or walk over to her and try to charm my way into her pants.

She finally breaks eye contact and goes back to pushing her food from one end of her tray to the other.

“Hey, who’s the new girl back there?” I ask Bobby.

He stops trying to dry off his pants and turns around to see where I’m looking.

“Ah, fresh sophomore meat. I think someone said her name is Lucy. She just moved to the island this week. Her parents own Butler House Inn.”

He turns back around to face me and narrows his eyes at me. “Not your type, man. Don’t even think about it.”

I finally pull my eyes away from her and scoff at him. “Oh, please. Clearly, she’s not my type. She looks like she might burst into tears any second now. I prefer my women to have a little more backbone and a lot more tits.”

I continue to sneak glances at her every time Bobby turns to talk to someone else at our table and realize what I said to Bobby was complete bullshit. Sure, I’m a boob man and this Lucy person isn’t popping out of her shirt like most of the girls here, but there’s just something about her that I can’t take my eyes off of. I have the urge to walk over to her, see if her voice sounds as sweet as she looks and get people to stop fucking gawking at her like she’s some kind of freak show. I realize I’m a total hypocrite since I can’t look away either, but at least I’m not turned around in my seat staring at her like a zoo animal like half the people in this room. No one talks to her or tries to sit with her, they just stare. I get it, it’s not often we get new people moving to the island. Sure, people are always coming and going during the summer tourist months, but they’re mainland people and it’s like they’re from another planet. They think it’s “cute” that we live here year-round and they think our town is “quaint.” They mess up our shit for a few months and then they go back home to their bustling cities and huge skyscrapers and laugh about the island people who never leave. Not many people come here to stay permanently, and it makes me more than a little curious about who she is and where she comes from.

While Bobby is busy talking to a few of the guys about what’s going on this weekend, I take the opportunity to sneak away from the table, making my way over to Lucy.

She looks up at me in surprise when I plop down next to her and smile.

“Four.”

Her long eyelashes flutter rapidly and her hand comes up to brush her hair out of her eyes.

“Um, what?” she asks softly.

“Four. The number of things I know about you,” I explain, giving her my most charming smile and bringing my hand up to tick the things off on my fingers. “Your name is Lucy Butler, you’re a sophomore, your family owns Butler House Inn, and you’re fucking adorable.”

Moving my hand in front of her, I hold it out for a handshake, wanting to see if her hand is as soft and smooth as the skin on her flushed cheeks looks. “Name’s Fisher.”

She stares down at my hand for a second before rolling her eyes and pushing herself up from the table. “Yeah, I know who you are. Not interested.”