And because I know someone will ask. No, I have no intention of naming these characters. I don't think they need it.
Anyway, let me know what you think.
...Make Lemonade
She tugged at the hem of her shirt, pulling it from out from under the seatbelt. She was glad she wore the marine blue tank top under her linen peasant top. It definitely looked more dramatic in the hushed creamy sunlight flowing over the tree tops they drove past.
Her mind was a golden honeycomb of fantasy and realities, sticky syrupy forms seeping into her vision. Every once and a while she would peer through her curtain of flaxen hair stealing glances of him, sitting there bathed in the sunlight that poured through the windshield. His hands gripping the steering wheel like a falcon would hold to a branch. She could see the tendons twist and snake across his knuckles as he maneuvered his father’s car along the coastal roads. He must be so responsible, she mused, for his dad to allow him to use the car like this.
“Where are we going?” she would ask.
“It’s a secret, I told you” he would sometimes answer, but most times he would just smile dangling his secret in front of her. If she asked how far it was, or how long it would take he would just smile again rolling those gingerbread brown eyes.
Everything was going so well. He had arrived promptly at the moment her digital alarm clock flickered to 2 pm. She would make him wait of course, that is how this sort of thing worked and she appreciated his respect for those rules. After a few more twirls in her mirror she made her way to the stairs, pausing for a moment at the top and waiting for a break in the conversation below before she announced her presence. Once all eyes were where they should be she descended the stairs slow and purposeful. She observed his eyes as they clambered from her glittery flip-flops and gold painted toenails all the way up to her mascara laced eyelashes. He met her eyes for only a second before his lids declined, shading them from her scrutiny, but she saw the corners of his jaw pop as he clamped his mouth shut, and she struggled to keep her own face as composed. Her Parents gushed delight all over the front lobby. They hadn’t said anything yet, but she could tell by the way her mother clutched her father’s arm in a “our little girl is all grown up” sort of way, that if she did not make her escape now, she would not be able to leave with everyone’s dignity intact.
She shifted a little, feeling the bare skin of her thighs separate from the cracked vinyl passenger seat. Perhaps she should have worn the longer skirt. She glanced to the side, but he still faced the road, rigid with concentration. Perhaps he did not hear the tearing Velcro sound of skin on hot plastic. She thought- but only for a moment- about recreating the sound, then he might ask if she were too hot. She would give some witty reply that would make him laugh. Oh to hear that laugh, and know that she was the cause of it…
“I’m going to crack a window” he announced. Perhaps he had heard after all. His jaw set a little firmer as his left hand inched off the wheel and lowered itself to the window handle. His eyebrows reached for his hairline as he concentrated on cranking the handle and driving the car. His right hand was useless without its left as a counter weight. The wheel began to rotate, and so the car began to veer a touch to the right. She didn’t want to alarm him but she could not help the OH! from leaping out of her mouth. He reacted, his left hand shooting back into position. Then with a quick swerve to their left, then right again then a few minor adjustments, the wheel, and thus the car was put back into balance. His face was pink, his ears cherry red as he shifted and re-shifted his hands. She offered him a crooked grin and a cough that wanted to be a laugh, then flipped her attention back out the window.
The tick-tick, tick-tick of the turning signal brought her mind back into the cab of the car.
“Where are we?” She glanced around. There was no parking lot, not even a dirt road to pull on to.
“We’re here.” he retorted, as if this should be obvious. He was out of the car, slamming the door behind him before she could undo her seatbelt. He raced around the vehicle arriving to her door just as she began to step out.
“You’re supposed to wait and let me help you.” He said, his bottom lip puckering out.
Were she a girl and not a woman of 15 perhaps she would have swooned. Instead, she held up her hand and waited for him to take it.
“It’s alright; I know you would help me if I really needed it.” She said. “You’re real gentlemen”
With her arm in his he lead her down a path she hadn’t noticed when they pulled the car over. It was so narrow and overgrown; anyone could pass by a hundred times and not have seen it. This was a very secret place, he had told her. He had never brought anyone else here before. She beamed and held tighter to him as they clomped deeper into the trees. She saw herself a “Maid Marian” being spirited into the forest by her own Robin Hood. She giggled at herself and followed closer till finally the trees broke and there spread before them a world of ocean, their own private beach. She could not drink it all in fast enough. He did not stop walking, dragging her behind him, dragging her out of the dark timberland into the sunlight where the sand burned and sparkled, where the sea gently caressed the shore.
“How did you find this place?” She asked in awe.
“It’s always been here, everyone knows about it” he said shrugging off her ridiculous question. “Come on, I’ll bet the ocean feels great.” With that he strode off to where water made love to the land, leaving her behind.
“Wait!” She called, rushing down the beach to catch up. He was already ankle deep in water before she was able to kick off her sandals and join him.
Everything shifted into slow motion. His tanned hand lifted, extending towards her, beckoning her near. The sun shone down upon them shimmering over sand and sea, wrapping them in its warmth. Waves rolled passed decorated with seaweed, driftwood and other bits of debris. He took her hand in his pulling her close. Her knees trembled as the water licked them. The ocean was cool but the look held in his eyes warmed her to her gold painted toes. His eye lids drooped, her eyes grew wide. His lips puckered, her lips pursed with uncertainty. Then he was leaning in, his head bowing down to reach her. This moment- her heart throbbed- was actually happening, far sooner than she had anticipated, but it was happening. She forced her mind to concentrate. Just like kissing a lemon, her friends would say. She tried to remember what that was like, but the smell of him was over powering, his closeness making it hard to think of anything but the feel of his breathe on her lips and then-
“I don’t care how!” She screamed. “Just make it stop”
She lay on the sand, gritty and soaked. Her right arm flung over her eyes to block out the pain that surged through her left leg. Just there at the very moment she felt as though she would burst, being filled ecstasy just waiting to be realized. The heat from his hand searing through her shirt at the small of her back, his nose sweeping her cheek, her skin a burning that had nothing to do with the afternoon sun overhead - then all of it being washed away. Chased by a sharp tingle that rapidly grew to the most excruciating pain she’d ever known. She collapsed into the waves, her cries choked out by salty spray. With a strength born of agony she pulled her body to shore. He followed completely at a loss.
“It’s a jellyfish.” His voice reached her ears, it was small and higher pitched then moments ago.
“Get it off me.” She cried out, her voice cracking and dry from the salt she’d swallowed.
“How?” His hands hung in the air just as lost as the rest of him.
“I don’t care!” she screamed. “Just make it stop.” Her leg jerked in what was more of a seizure than a deliberate action. The jellyfish flew across the sand landing a foot from her wiggling like a grisly Jell-o mold. It was gone, she exhaled, but the pain remained creeping farther up her leg. Her brain tore through itself trying to find any kind of solution. He stood there mute his eyes begging for some way to help.
“I remember,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “I saw it on T.V. once how you stop a jellyfish sting.” Her chest heaved with the effort of breathing through her agony.
“What? How do we stop it?” He knelt by her begging for the answer as if it were his own salvation.
She arranged her face as stoic as she could muster.
“Urine.” She said. “I need you to pee on the sting.”
He flung himself back, horror written across his face. His jaw hung slack and his head shook from side to side of its own volition.
“M-Maybe we should just get you to a doc-“
“No” she barked. “There isn’t time.”
He could see the tears in her swollen eyes, and even worse the ghastly web of angry red streaking across her calf and ankle. His stomach heaved like the sea behind him. He couldn’t. Not on a girl, not on This Girl.
“Please.” She begged. “I thought you were a gentleman.”
He was. He thought, just like his mother has raised him to be. Squaring his shoulders and setting his jaw, he stood and gave her a curt nod.
“Just don’t look, ok?” He ordered as he straddled her left leg. He swallowed the bile that rose as he unzipped his shorts. He clenched his teeth and pressed his tongue against his upper pallet as he thought about anything but what he was about to do.
“Hurry up.” Her strained voice assaulted him from behind.
“I’m trying.” He said. “I just need to relax.” He heard her whine. “That’s not helping.”
She held her breathe as he inhaled and exhaled slowly, pleading with his body to obey him just this once. Then came the sound of the brackish spurt hitting sand and tender skin. He attempted to aim for the areas that looked the worst but also tried to cover the sting evenly. His ears focused on the tossing waves until he ran dry. She lay quiet on the sand, her hands clasped over her face to prevent her from vomiting. Her mind tried to escape, tried to take her away but the pungent scent of old watermelon and ammonia kept her grounded and present as fetid liquid spread over and dripped off her skin. It was not until she heard another faint zip, that she chanced deep inhale through her mouth.
“Did it work?” He asked. His face hovered before her blocking out the sun.
“Please- a doctor” was all she could manage.
It took a fair amount of effort to get her back to the car and situated. They drove with the windows down. He worried about his father, the floor mats and passenger seat upholstery. He thought about his friends and the stories at school on Monday. He had saved her. He was a hero. She sat with her head against the car door and cried.
The walk-in clinic was supportive. The receptionist took them into an unoccupied room as soon as they walked through the door. The nurse was sympathetic but asked too many questions. The nurse was soon gone and they were left to wait for the next available doctor. She lay on the examination table ignoring her leg. He sat on a stool wondering what to do with his hands. The Doctor arrived flipping a chart as he entered and closed the door behind him. He was young, and cute she noted as he approached the injured area.
“Jellyfish eh.” He said more to himself as he leaned in for a closer look. “And what’s that?” The doctor sniffed and exhaled. “Ah.” He said, putting a hand out he leaned on the table and addressed the young couple. “ You know that doesn’t work, right?”
Th
