Young Writers Society

[pre] It was just after sunset and I was sitting by the pool in my pajamas. The wind was warm and gentle, it made me smile, but that smile turned into a sigh.

It was paradise here, but I was still lonely. It was painfully obvious to me that I didn’t belong with my classmates. I didn’t fit in.

I slipped off my flip-flops and dipped my feet into the pool. I was surprised: it was heated; then realized I shouldn’t be surprised by anything about this place anymore.

I sloshed my feet a little bit then stopped and just let them float. I lay down and rested on my back, folding my arms beneath my head.

I must have fallen asleep because when I opened my eyes again, it was colder and darker. Plus, I was staring up at Michael.

“Hi,” he said. He was sitting beside me, I’m embarrassed to admit, in clothes very similar to mine: a t-shirt, boxers, and flip-flops. He had also removed the flip-flops, though, and was dangling his feet in the pool with me. How long had he been there? My stomach still tingled as though someone had been touching my side.

I sat up, looking at him, and said, uncertainly, “Hi.”

What did he want?

We sat in silence for a long while. Eventually, I became comfortable in his presence, as of course I would. I leaned back on my hands, but then, more boldly, I slipped my arm around his. He shifted a bit, and then maneuvered my arm so that he could hold my hand in his lap. I leaned my head on his shoulder.

“Lisa is looking for you,” he said.

“Let her look,” I replied, becoming tired again. “I don’t want to move.”

He laughed. “I’m too sexy, I know: I wouldn’t want to move either.”

I pushed him into the pool. His head went under, but when he came up sputtering, I told him, “You are not as sexy as you think you are, sir.” I was thinking of Independence Day.

Michael grabbed onto the edge of the pool, one hand on each side of my legs. He looked up at me, a little too devilish for my taste. I soon knew why.

“Yes, I am.” He grabbed my legs and pulled me into the pool with him.

I came up, then splashed him in the face.

“Jerk!” I said, not really meaning it. I attempted to swim away, but not putting any effort into and expecting to get away from a swimmer was pointless.

I turned around as I heard him go under and watched as he swam under me to come up in front of me. Michael grabbed my waist and pulled me to him backwards. I struggled, but he held on tight. He was tickling me; I splashed him again, and broke his hold on me, and made a break for it.

I reached the edge of the pool and held on to it without getting out because I had never really meant to get away from him. That would be silly, with him was where I wanted to be.

Over my shoulder, I saw him where I had left him. We stared at each other for a few seconds, then he lazily breast stroked over to me. I turned my body around, still one hand on the edge and found myself trapped between his arms. His right hand, on the edge, too, took mine off and set it on his shoulder. Instinctively, before my head went under, I grabbed onto him with my left hand, too.

Slowly, I moved my hand from his shoulder, as we stared at each other’s eyes, and touched the side of his dripping wet face. I tugged on a wet curl. Michael’s eyes were beautiful; I couldn’t look away. They were dark blue flecked with a soft green. Reflecting the night sky in them... I was mesmerized.

He closed his gorgeous eyes first, tilted his head, and softly put his lips on mine.

I moved closer to him; he moved closer to me. Even when I stopped kissing him, he didn’t pull away from me. I felt so content to just float gently in the pool, clinging to him, while he held on to both the poolside and me.

A gentle breeze blew, just like before, but now that we were wet, I was cold. I shivered a little and pulled away from Mike even though I really didn’t want to. It wasn’t often that he let his façade down and was gentle with me. It was this reason that I could never tell where we stood. Did he like me? Or did he not?

“Can we go inside? I’m cold,” I whispered.

“Yeah,” he whispered back, letting go of me.

I lifted myself out of the pool using the side and sat on the edge. Mike got up next to me. I crossed my arms over my chest and stood up to go inside, my body was covered in goose bumps. We looked at each other for a few seconds. I ran my hand through his hair and made it stand up.

He laughed, matting his hair back down. I still didn’t move. He waited. “What?”

“Are you going to be different inside?” I had meant inside the house, but after I said it, I realized it could be taken otherwise. Not that he would take it the alternate way.

He smiled sweetly for me. I felt my face fall and then come back up immediately. “Forget it.”

“See you inside,” I said, shivered, and ran, holding my arms. Nikki, Alex, and Desmond were sitting on the couches in the enclosed porch. When they asked me what had happened, I shrugged, and answered, “Um, yeah, the pool. No big deal.”

They laughed and said my name in condescending ways.

I chuckled with them anyway. Mike came in about thirty seconds after me, also soaked, of course. They looked at him then back to me. Big doofus.

Nikki and Alex looked at me with fox eyes assuming. I rolled my eyes, shrugged, and explained better. “I pushed him in; he pulled me in.”

“Oh...” both girls said.

“Getting it on in the pool, huh, big guy?” Desmond said to Mike.

The tips of his ears turned red, but on his face was a cocky smile and he said, “Yeah, baby.”

They all laughed at this. I scoffed and raised an eyebrow. I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “ ‘Yeah, baby.’ ” I said, and winked at him.

Alex almost cackled and Nikki said my name in that “I never know what this girl is going to do next” tone. Desmond, when I thought about it, looked sort of disappointed. He was silent and the smile he usually sported, fell.

I padded down the hall to the bathroom closest to my room. I pulled off my wet clothes and left them in a soggy pile near the door. I shivered again: I was pretty cold.

However, I stepped into the tub and the water was really hot and steamy. I let it roll down my back and turned my face up to the showerhead. I couldn’t get Desmond’s face out of my mind, but at the same time I could still feel Michael’s soft cheek beneath my lips.

What was I doing?

Why did it bother me so much that Desmond was upset for some reason? It just seemed that he was upset immediately after I pecked Mike on the cheek.

Mike made me feel okay with me, while Desmond... I may have thought of him like family, but I was completely afraid of him when it came to being intimate with him. He didn’t care for me like I hoped Mike did.

I washed up with the sent of French vanilla surrounding me; the warmth of the water soothed me and I realized how tired I was.

I came out of the bathroom, a while later, one towel over my head and the other wrapped around me. I ran into my room, praying I could avoid my classmates. I dashed in, turned around and shut the door. I was surprised though, when I turned to see Michael sitting up on my bed. He was wearing his pair of black sweatpants: the ones he got from swimming for our school and... nothing else.

“What-cha... doin’?” I asked, holding my towel up, somewhat femininely I'll admit.

Michael reached for the back of his head: our nervous tick. He spun around and hung his feet off the other side of the bed.

Turning his head back he said, “I won’t look, I promise.”

I cocked my head just for my own benefit, I guess, because he did turn around.

I held back laughter at his cuteness and rushed to get my own sweatpants. Oh, yeah, and hoped he couldn’t actually hear how fast my heart was beating because I thought he might be able to even from across the room. I got my gray pants and my forest green shirt.

As soon as I was dressed, I threw the towels and my soaking wet clothes near the door and walked around to his side of the bed. I reached down for his hands and leaned against the wall as he looked up and we both smiled. I don’t know why he smiled, but I smiled because he did: I was hopelessly in love with the boy in front of me.

Michael’s eyes wandered all over me and I had to do the same. He had light blonde hair on his face and fine hair of the same color on his arms.

His eyes were sleepy, but soft. Eyes that said he cared for me, as I cared for him... or perhaps that he wanted something from me and he had to feign naiveté to get it. Was he just fooling around with me? I really, really, really, really, hoped not.

His hands moved soft like silk over my body. I felt a surge of excitement when those long, nimble fingers reached for the bottom of my shirt and started to lift it over my head.

“Ah...” I was still afraid. Michael froze at the small sound I had made. He stared into my eyes, searching for what was wrong: should he stop or should he carry on? Did we both have the same problem with each other? Both afraid to show that we cared too much because we thought the other would betray us?

I backed away from him, and my shirt fell, but I had moved just so I wouldn’t hit him. He looked hurt for a second and I realized he thought I was trying to get away from him. I removed my shirt myself, though, and his eyes widened slightly.

Thankfully, he didn’t stare at me for long; I was burning with embarrassment. It was worth it, though. He reached for me slowly, slipping his arms around my waist, and pulling me towards him. He seemed to like the softness, squishiness of my skin, and my breasts.

When there was no room to move between him and me, he craned his neck down to kiss the nape of my neck. His lips traced my skin further down and he left a love mark on me.

I swayed from standing still so long and the change in his position threw me off balance. I almost stumbled, but Michael suddenly bent down and picked me up. Like a child, I wrapped my legs around his upper waist and my arms around his neck. Michael looked up at me with an innocent smile on his face, which I couldn’t help but return.

He spun around, like we were dancing, and leaned his head on my chest. I twirled my fingers in his blonde hair and held on to him. I giggled with pure delight. I felt so inexplicably happy.

After he adjusted his ear several times on my chest, I realized what he was doing: listening to my heart. My beat was normal now, though, so I was not worried about the flustered heartbeat from just a bit earlier.

I leaned back a bit to see his eyes, but suddenly, there was a loud noise behind me. I know I squeaked, in both surprise and fear, and clung tightly to Michael.

Josh was at the door. Mike spun around so that I was facing Josh, over Mike’s shoulder, until he set me down. He blocked my body from sight by his own. I was shaking suddenly. Mike looked down at me, whispered quickly, so that Josh could not hear, “It’s okay.”

Mike craned his neck to face Josh; the corner of his mouth turned up in that cocky smile of his. He said, “Hey.”

Josh blinked a few times, and then recomposed himself. “Um,” he said, holding out the “m”. “Hey.”

“You mind?” Mike said.

Josh laughed, in an unbelieving way. He turned around, and walked out the door, closing it behind him.

We stared after him for a second, and then Michael looked down at me. “See? Fine.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, and then rested my head on his chest, just below his shoulder. “It’s not fine.” I yawned.

Michael gently ran his fingertips up and down the arch of my back. He reached up and ran his fingers through my hair, and pulled away from me.

Turning off the lights, he jumped into the bed and pulled down the covers. He sat up on the edge of the mattress and waited.

I had crossed my arms over my chest and watched him through the dark. I had good night vision, I realized compared to him, as I suspected he could not really see me. His eyes weren’t focused on me and he seemed to be looking a tad to my left. My flowy shirt was on the edge of the bed; I pulled it back on and leapt into the other side of the bed.

I curled up in the blankets and lay facing him, propping my head up by my elbow. Michael lay down, too, and we looked at each other through the darkness. Maybe his eyes had adjusted.

I dropped my head and laughed quietly.

“What?” he asked; smiling just because I was laughing.

I scooted over, close to him, and wrapped my arm around his bare waist. Michael’s skin was so warm and soft. He put his arm around me and I nuzzled my head against him.

“Nothing,” I whispered.

“Mhm,” he mumbled, just as tired as I was.

It couldn’t have been too long after we both fell asleep that we woke to a shock. Rather, a camera flash in our faces.

We both sat up, jolted, and looked around. Josh was at the door, I could see by the light of the hall, and Mike’s cousin was next to the bed, laughing with a digital camera in his hands.

Mike yelled at him and Joe bolted. Mike shot out of bed and ran out of the room after him.

I felt like crying. Josh stood at the door a stupid smile on his face.

“Why did you do this?” I asked. My voice didn’t break and I sounded pissed: good.

His smile disappeared in an instant. His voice was cold when he said, “Because, you’re not going to use my friend, then throw him away. He’s too good for the likes of you.”

I had started to cry. I hated him so much right then. So much. I slipped out of the bed, and blindly, the tears had clouded my vision by then, found my sweatshirt and coverall hanging over the chair in the corner of the room. I knotted the coverall around my waist and wrapped the sweatshirt securely, enveloping me; hiding me. I shoved past Josh, who still stood in the doorway, watching me. I wiped my face on my sleeve as I walked down the hall, and pulled the hood up.

There was no one in the back room, I was glad. I went out the patio door and closed it quietly behind me. The deck’s wood surface was cool beneath my toes and so was the sand of the beach. It had lost the day’s heat from the sun.

I walked out straight, close to the receding tide. The moon was small tonight, barely a sliver. The little light it offered only made the shadows seem foreboding in my mind.

I sat down, there in the dry sand, and pulled my knees close to my chest. My head fit perfectly between them.

I admit I cried, but only a little more. The sound of the tide swaying in and out soothed me. I was such a child.

I wiped my tears away and watched the tide sway, mesmerized. I had run away and I knew it, but I was afraid. I was afraid that what he said was true. I knew I loved Mike, but was Josh right? Was I not good enough for him?

What a stupid question. I knew my own worth, but I was obviously suffering from a low self-esteem. I blamed well-meaning elementary school teachers who told me I could do anything I put my mind to, only to find this untrue. Some things just didn’t work out no matter how hard anyone tried.

“Tucker?” I heard my name, and knew it was Desmond.

“Hey,” I said. My voice was croakish.

“What’s the matter?” He sat down next to me and put his hand on my back. “You crying?”

I shook my head, even though I was lying. “Josh is just pulling his shit again. No big deal.”

Desy was silent, then, “He’s suck a fag. What did he do now?”

“Got Joe to take a picture of Mike and me. Joe was probably more than happy to oblige. I know what you said before, but I know Joe doesn’t like me. The only thing he likes about me is making fun of me.”

“For liking Mike?”

I looked over at him, and saw his blue eyes, so similar to mine, were sad, reflected in the dim light from the moon. I stared until he met my eyes, but I had to look away before answering.

“Yes,” I whispered, as though saying it quieter would make it any less hard on him.

I had to go back. There was no other alternative. Plus, I wasn’t a coward. Okay... maybe I was sometimes, but that pint-sized asswipe was not going to beat me. Not this time. Mike was way too important to me and I wasn’t going to give up just because it got a little hard.

The hardest part, though, was deciding whether or not I really wanted this... any of this. I was fighting with Josh over Mike, but I didn’t even know if Mike really liked me, or what? I thought I loved him. I had convinced myself that I did, but did I really? I felt like I did.

I realized then that I might have to drag Mike off his cousin who would have been caught by now and beaten within an inch of his miserable life. There was no possibility of those pictures getting anywhere near a computer let alone the Internet.

I sighed. This really sucked. Why is it that even when two people who are perfect for each other, beat everything else and make it together, the world still tries to separate them? I had bad karma: that was the only possibility. I had done something terrible in a past life and I was now paying for it. Great.

I liked Desmond, too, I knew that even if most of the time I couldn’t admit to it. Telling him I liked Mike really could have just made things worse, but I was done with lying about it. It didn’t do anybody any good.

I got up and brushed myself off. The sand was fine and came off surprisingly easy.

“I have to go back,” I said.

“Sure,” Desmond said.

He didn’t move so I said, “See you later, though, right?”

“You bet, Tucker.”

I walked back alone and let myself in. I heard shouting immediately and followed it to find my boyfriend and his cousin, as I had predicted: rolling around on the floor.

Everyone was awake and out of their rooms now. I saw Lisa and she widened her eyes with the expression of: Oh my God. I would have laughed, but this was not the time. Then, I think she really looked at me, seeing my face: I was sad.

Instead of laughing or explaining myself to her, I ran over to the two struggling boys. Mike had just probably given Joe a black eye with his last punch. He was about to sock Joe again, but I grabbed his wrist and held him fast. Mike’s knuckles had a bit of blood smeared on them: Joe’s blood.

“Knock it off,” I said, plainly. Mike dropped the hold he had on the neck of Joe’s t-shirt, but he did not relent the glare he had focused on his cousin. He was terrifying me: I hoped never, ever to have that look on me.

When Mike did look up at me, his face went limp. My eyes looked differently I think. The Irish blue eyes: changed with emotion. They were emerald green, Mike told me later. I used to tell Sarah that when I cried, I was crying out the blue, leaving the green behind.

Mike stood up, brushed off his hands and shifted his sweatpants so that the drawstring was again in the front. He stuffed the camera Joe had taken our picture with, into his pocket.

Still a little awkward in front of everyone else, Mike hesitated only for a moment then closed the space between us. He took my hand and I followed him with no resistance.

I couldn’t help but look back at Joe, though. He was watching us walk away, his left hand covering his eye. He was swearing and I knew it was actually his pride and his heart that hurt him more right then as opposed to his body. Joe had just been beaten by his own blood, and in front of everyone. Despite what he had been trying to do: embarrass me and Mike, hopefully enough so that Mike would want nothing to do with me and that he would somehow realize because of a picture that I wasn’t worth the social agony or the effort, I still felt badly for him.

As soon as we turned the corner, out of everyone’s sight, Mike stopped and leaned against the wall. He pulled me to him, lending me his chest. I breathed slowly, my hands just below his shoulders, my right ear to his chest. I suddenly knew why he had been so adamant about getting his ear in the right place on my chest earlier: listening to his heartbeat was relaxing and reassuring.

He rubbed my upper arms and then my back.

“Come here,” Michael whispered in a sigh. He picked me up again, and I held on tight. I was amazed to find that I wasn’t completely embarrassed to be handled that way. I had never thought of myself as light and probably never would. He didn’t seem to have a problem with the one hundred and fifty pounds that was all of me, though.

Michael backed into the door of my room and then kicked it closed when we were inside. The covers were already down so he just fell into the bed, me on top of him. I straddled him, sitting up.

I looked down at him affectionately and pulled at his hair. He smiled and that’s when I saw the swelling. My face fell. Joe must have taken a swing at Mike and Mike must have attempted to duck because the left side of his forehead was an odd place to hit anyone. I was guessing, but it didn’t really matter if I knew how it had happened.

I touched it with my fingertips and felt the growing lump before slipping out of bed.

“Where are you going?” Michael sat up.

I pushed him down and said, “I’ll be right back.”

The hall was deserted and I no longer heard any noise in the house.

It was only one-twenty, the kitchen clock told me. Coming into the kitchen properly, though, I saw I was not alone: Joe sat on one of the stools, a bag of ice over his left eye.

He looked up at me with his good eye and then looked away just as quickly. That was fine with me: I didn’t know what to say to him anyway. I knew I would never talk to him, though, if I didn’t now.

“How is it?” I asked.

Joe slowly looked up again and stared at me. I showed concern and he started to chuckle mockingly.

I raised an eyebrow and said, “Fine, whatever.”

There were still some ice cubes in trays in the freezer so I dumped twelve into a Ziploc baggie. I went to the sink and refilled the trays with water before putting them back. I took one last look at Joe, trying to put into the correct order what I needed to say.

“I’m sorry that you’re hurt, but you hurt Mike, too. What... just why? It was stupid; you do realize that, right? And me, you hurt me, too. Why do you hate me so much?”

Joe didn’t move; he had no reaction.

I nodded, like he had said something interesting, shrugged, “Okay, alright.”

I was almost out the doorway when I heard him say, “You really like him, don’t you?”

Nervously, I rubbed the ridges on the bag of ice between my fingertips and shifted my weight from one foot to the other. I faced him, wondering if he was making fun of me or he really wanted to know. He was just looking at me, waiting for me to answer. He didn’t seem foreboding so I decided to have strength: I told the truth.

“Very much,” I said. “He’s special to me.”

Joe looked away and without meeting my eyes, said, “Sorry... about before.”

Observing Joe closely then, when he shifted his own ice bag, was why I noticed the gash over his eye. I was both concerned for Joe and amazed by Mike’s strength: he had split the skin.

I sighed and set Michael’s ice down then made a quick trip to the nearest bathroom. In the cabinets was all that I needed: painkillers, bandages, medical tape, and antibiotic salve. Back in the kitchen, I wet some paper towels and stood in front of Joe. He was watching me with interest. I gave him two pills and he took them without question.

I touched his hand and he lowered the ice, setting it on the counter. I patted the wet towels to his head, clearing the blood from it. Next, I ripped open the band-aid package and unscrewed the cap of the Neosporin. Dabbing the crème on with my fingertip, I knew Joe was watching me just as closely as I had watched him before.

“Why are you doing this?”

I met his green-gray eyes, pulling the tabs off the sticky part of the bandage and then smoothing it out over his cut. I criss-crossed a little bit of tape over it; just to be sure it would stay. I gently ran my fingers over it one more time then began picking up and crumpling the garbage I had littered the counter with.

“I know you didn’t really want to hurt anyone, even me. You were just looking for a laugh. Plus, Josh probably had a bit more to do with it, no? Thanks, though, for apologizing, now if only you could say the same to your cousin.”

Joe looked away once more and picked up the now melting bag of ice. He was looking uncomfortable again.

I threw out the wrappers and pushed the Neosporin tube aside for the morning. I picked up Michael’s bag of ice, then added before I left, “It’ll be easier in the morning. It always is.”

I waved a small goodnight then returned to my room. It looked like Michael was already sleeping, but when I got back into bed, his eyes opened and he sighed, “What took so long?”

I set the bag of ice on the pillow, so it leaned against his forehead, and explained, “You whacked Joe pretty good. He’s got a nice gash above his eye.”

“Good,” Mike scoffed.

I glared at him. “You know you don’t really mean that.”

He shifted, turning his body more towards me, holding the ice in place. Michael wasn’t about to deny that.

“Why aren’t you mad at him?” he asked, curious, but intently watching his own fingers tracing loops on the sheets.

“Because Josh had a little more to do with it than you give him credit for and besides, Joe apologized to me and I know he wants to apologize to you, too. He’s just afraid to.”

I leaned my head against Michael’s shoulder and slowly drifted to sleep.

I watched Lisa and silently snuck up behind her.

“Lisa!” I yelled. She jumped and immediately hit me. Then she got down to business.

“Spill it,” Lisa demanded.

I looked up at her innocently for a moment, “Whatever do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean!” I laughed at her.

“Fine, fine,” I said, waving my hand at her. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything!” she said. “What happened last night? I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

“I was at the pool early and I fell asleep. When I woke up Mike was there and,” I laughed. “We pushed each other in and started splashing each other. It was so funny.”

Lisa was shaking her head. “You’re so in love with him.”

This time, I didn’t object to her teasing and I know she noticed. I continued, anyway. “He kissed me.”

Her eyes widened and she scoffed, “Of course. Oh my God!”

“Then... well, we had to take showers after that chlorine bath, and he may have been on my bed when I got back...”

My nonchalant attitude was driving her crazy. “What happened? Did you... Abby, did you...?”

I raised an eyebrow. “No, but he did get my shirt off.”

I quickly moved on to the next subject when her mouth fell open. “Mike was so cute. I got back from the shower and he turned around and faced the wall. He said, ‘I won’t look.’ ”

“Sure,” Lisa said, throwing up her hands. “ Abigail, I don’t get it. I don’t understand at all: what do you see in him? He’s a jerk! An idiot!”

“Lisa, come on! Don’t be mean; plus, we didn’t do anything! Actually, Josh barged in. He saw us and left.”

Lisa started laughing, but it was more out of irony then actual humor. “Oh God, that wasn’t good. He must be so jealous.”

I smiled for her benefit. “Yeah, I know, don’t remind me. He told Joe, who came back to the room and took a picture of us in bed.”

Her mouth was open again so I clarified, “I had my shirt on. We were just sleeping, same bed, okay?”

Lisa was shaking her head again. “Why him? I just don’t get it at all.”

I shrugged. “Then you saw what happened next.”

She nodded; her eyes bulged in emphasis. “Oh my God, I thought Mike was going to kill Joe.”

Lisa thought about it for a second. “He was really mad.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

“Well, really. I’ve never seen Mike and Joe fight. Not over anything.”

I thought about it, too. I realized I had never really fought with real anger with any of my cousins before.

“I feel worse now, thank you, Lisa.”

“It’s not your fault,” she said. “Joe shouldn’t have done that.”

“Yeah... but, Josh was right in a way: I’m making life harder for Mike. I don’t want to do that. Plus, Josh is hissing mad and... and...”

Lisa was frowning. “What?”

I didn’t want to get upset. I felt fine, though, not like I was going to cry. So I told her, “He said I wasn’t good enough for Mike.”

Lisa waited, like there should be more. “And...? You believed him?”

I didn’t have to say anything for her to guess. “I don’t, but it was still mean and it still hurt.”

“Abby, you’re stupid. You’re too good for Mike.”

“Stop it,” I said, tired of her picking on Mike. “I real--”

I still couldn’t say it, not to Lisa. After denying my feelings for so long, it felt weird to admit to it now. I did love Mike... she perhaps had to have realized that by now, so why did she make fun of him in front of me? However, I did remember once or twice, her saying that Mike wasn’t so bad and that he was actually funny. Remembering that, I wasn’t so mad at her. She called him stupid like I said I didn’t love him: it just wasn’t true.

She looked disapprovingly at me, but shook her head and decided not to pursue anything.[/pre]