Looking Through The Lens

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/ryansylander/www/

Chapter 1: Down by the Seaside

Back Home

Thump, thump, thump, thump…

“Turn that crap off!” I yelled at the guy in my dream. 

I rolled around in bed for a minute and then figured out that I wasn’t dreaming.  Something really was pulsing my room like a cheesy dance club. As the sleep evaporated from my eyes, I caught sight of my sneakers on the floor beside my bed.  Since they were within arm’s reach, one of the shoes ended up flying across the room. 

It was a useless effort; the shoe struck the wall right in time with the beat of the thumping.  It also left a dark grey mark on my aunt’s white wall, which I would have to clean off. 

“Lara…  Fuck!” I muttered in annoyance. 

I looked at my watch.  It was an ungodly hour to be roused.  I lay in bed for a few more minutes hoping that the pounding would miraculously stop, but it didn’t. 

Finally I gave up and threw the covers aside in disgust.  Gritting my teeth, I stomped down the hall, pulling up at Lara’s door. 

“Hey…!  Lara!” I yelled as I banged on it. 

My sister was blasting her new Madonna Like a Prayer cassette, a birthday present Aunt Beth had gotten for her.  My tastes ran towards Led Zeppelin and Jimmy Hendrix, so most of the music from the current decade made me want to throw up, especially so early in the morning.  Fortunately, the eighties would become history in six months. 

The music seemed to grow more annoying as I knocked.  Six long months…

There was no answer, so I turned the door handle after a moment’s hesitation.  The volume tripled as the door opened into the bright room.  The morning sun and sea air invaded my still sleepy brain, adding to the annoyance.

“What the hell, Lara?” I shouted, squinting my eyes as I stepped in.  “If you didn’t notice, I was trying to… Oh… hey, Julie.  Didn’t know you were here.”

Lara and her friend were sitting on the floor in their bathing suits and staring up at me.  I was suddenly aware of my near-nakedness as well, as I stood there in just my boxers.  I shifted uncomfortably for a few moments. 

“Hi, Matt,” Julie yelled over the music.  She grinned slightly as her gaze inadvertently drifted down my body, which made me wonder if my boxers were betraying me.  I didn’t dare draw further attention to my middle by checking.

“Don’t you knock?” Lara asked.  “We could have been changing or something!”

“I did knock, but you obviously couldn’t hear it with all this noise.” 

 “What?” she called out, her hand to her ear. 

Evidently my attempt to keep my voice deep didn’t carry over the music.  I went over to the boom box and turned it down.  Much lower than necessary, but I was trying to make a point.

“I said I knocked, but you couldn’t hear it with this crap turned up so loud!”

“Crap...?”  Lara tittered.  “Big words coming from someone who just last year asked to borrow my True Blue album.” 

Julie looked at the floor and giggled, as my sister reached for the radio and upped the volume again. 

“What are you talking about?” I shot back.  “That was like three years ago, and it… it was for a school thing.”  Since I had to raise my voice over the music again, it came out sounding a little desperate.  I suddenly wished that I had stayed in bed. 

“Whatever!  That’s why you played it like a hundred times a day.”

“No, I didn’t!  So shut up,” I retorted.  “What are you doing with my tape player, anyway?”

Lara rolled her eyes.  “Um, we’re sharing it on this trip?  Remember?  There wasn’t room for mine in the car?”

I waved aside that technicality.  “Fine.  But tt was in my room last night.”

“So I went in and got it this morning.  It’s not like you were using it, since you were sleeping,” she explained patiently.

I gave her an arch look for a moment.  Lara just grinned back impishly. 

“I guess I’ll get some breakfast, since sleeping is obviously out,” I said pointedly.

“Go for it.  We already ate.  Close the door, will you?  I don’t want Mom to come and tell me to turn it down.” 

Lara finally let out the laugh she had obviously been holding.  It was good-natured, but I didn’t feel like lightening up.  Julie just looked at me, her face a mix of mirth and… sympathy? 

I turned quickly, slamming the door shut as I left. 

Back in my room, I cracked open one of the shades and looked in the mirror.  Fortunately my boxer shorts were well-behaved.  If I had known Julie was in there I would have put on a shirt and some shorts.  My latest growth spurt had left me tall and thin; too thin.  I had gotten my dad’s sharp-cut looks and olive skin, but I was missing his powerful build.  Those who had known my dad when he was alive told me that I had his body, but I just didn’t see it.  I thought I looked like a stick, nothing like the broad-chested and well-proportioned man in the pictures we had at home. 

I sighed.  It didn’t matter how much I ate or worked out, I couldn’t keep up with the vertical growth. 

The music got louder, so I left my thrumming room after throwing on some shorts and a long-sleeved shirt.  As I passed Lara’s door again, I considered pounding on it just to return some of the annoyance she had caused me, but since Julie was in there I decided against it.  I had already looked foolish by walking in there practically naked.  There was no need to be childish in front of her as well.

I trudged out to the kitchen, still plagued by the incessant drum beats and synthesizers.  As I absently scanned the food in the fridge, I debated whether to eat some breakfast, or just leave the house for a little while. 

Out on the screened-in porch, Aunt Beth was telling a story.  I peeked through the kitchen window, which opened onto the porch.  As expected, my parents were sitting out there, listening to her as they sipped golden tea and ate crumpets while looking out at the ocean.  They seemed oblivious to the music.

Since my father died when I was very young, “my parents” now refers to Sarah Birch and Melissa Jackson.  Sarah is my mother by blood, and Melissa is Lara’s mother; both Lara and I share the same father, Chris Garibaldi.  Although the fact that Lara and I were born six days apart suggests some sort of weird infidelity on my dad’s part, the truth is that Lara and I both had three parents until some drunk woman ran our dad off the highway one night. 

Sarah, Melissa, and my dad fell in love in the heyday of the late sixties.  After securing a committed relationship between the three of them, they extended that love into parenthood.  When Lara and I were born in the summer of 1975, our parents moved away from the hustle of New York City, where my dad had a wildly successful business in art and antiques.  They took Lara and me to the quiet and secluded Catskill Mountains, about three hours north of the city.  Four days out of the week, my dad stayed in his New York apartment for work, and then he made the drive home each weekend. 

He was thirty years old, when he started his final commute. 

It was a quick death, by all accounts.  Because Lara and I were only two years old when it happened, we have no recollection of that period.  By the time I came out of my childhood fog, my father’s death was a wound that had already been healing for a while.  After a short court date, a settlement was offered by the drunk woman’s lawyer.  Between that, the proceeds from my dad’s business and life insurance, and a sizeable monthly rental check from his New York apartment, Sarah and Melissa were able to raise Lara and me while only having to work part time. 

I call both of my parents “Mom,” as does Lara, and it’s the inflection in our tone that always distinguishes which parent we mean.  Since that spoken inflection eludes the written word, I refer to them by first name here, as needed, but I do so with all the respect and love conferred by “Mom.”

My stomach growled loudly, spurring me out of my thoughts.  There was a slight chance I could get one of the adults to have Lara turn her music down, so I stepped through the doorway that led out onto the porch.

The three women greeted me, smiling cheerily.

“Do you hear that?” I asked, gesturing in the direction of Lara’s room.

Aunt Beth smiled innocently.  “Hear what?”

I groaned.  “Great, no sympathy out here…  It’s your fault, you know,” I said to her.

My parents laughed gently, and my aunt smiled apologetically. 

“Sorry,” she answered simply.

“You got a good amount of sleep in,” Sarah noted, checking her watch.

“Not really…”

“Do you want me to fix you something special for breakfast?” Melissa asked.  “Pancakes?”

It was a tempting remedy for my foul mood, since she worked as a chef at a ski resort near our house.  Meals at my house were always really good. 

After a moment of thought I rejected her offer, preferring to remain dour.  I returned to the kitchen and served myself a pitiful bowl of cereal and milk, with a side dish of bass drum. 

My uncle came in through the front door of the house just as I sat down at the table.

“Morning, Matt,” he called out as he stashed his tennis bags in the closet. 

“Oh, hey, Hans.”

“Been out in the waves yet?” he asked.

“Nah.  Just woke up.  I had trouble sleeping this morning, for some reason.”

Hans glanced at Lara’s door as he passed the hallway.  “Yeah, that’ll do it,” he agreed, smiling.

“Well, get used to it,” I said sardonically.  “You’re probably going to be hearing a lot of that over the next three weeks that we’re here.”

Hans laughed.  “I’m afraid you’re right.  Hey, I had nothing to do with Lara’s present.”

I grunted.  “I know.  Already done teaching tennis lessons for the day?”

Hans held up a finger as he gulped down a tall glass of water.  “No, I have a few more victims this afternoon.  The ladies wanted me to run into town and get some fish for lunch.” 

He peered out through the kitchen window at them for a moment.  When he turned back to me, he was grinning, and he spoke in a quieter voice.  “You know, since they’re so busy and all…”

I laughed a little.

“Want to come?” he asked.

I glanced down the hallway, considering the offer.  “Thanks, but I’m still waking up.  I think I’ll stay here.”

Hans nodded, as Aunt Beth came in from the porch.

“I heard that comment,” she said to him, arching a brow.

“Even over this noise?” Hans asked, winking at me.

She swatted him on the arm.  “Oh, you played loud music when you were fourteen, too.”

“How would you know?  You didn’t know me then,” he protested.

“No, but your sister did.  Sarah was just telling us about the time she walked in to your room and watched you play air guitar in your underwear for ten minutes before you noticed her.”

Hans glanced at me, grinning.  “Well…  That was… ”

My aunt watched him flail his words about for a moment, and then nodded.  “Mm hmm.  That’s what I thought.”

Melissa came into the kitchen as Beth wrote down a couple of things on a piece of paper.  When she handed it to Hans, he smiled.

“I don’t think I need a list just for two items,” he said.

Beth and Melissa, being sisters, often shared identical facial expressions, including the dubious looks they now gave Hans.

On his way out the door, he grinned at me.  “You’re probably going to be seeing a lot of that over the next three weeks that you’re here,” he said, echoing my earlier statement.

The two women ignored his comment, despite the goading looks he sent their way.

After Hans departed for the market, Melissa came over to the table where I sat.  “Feeling better, sweetie?” she asked, laying a sympathetic hand on my shoulder.

I shrugged.  “I’m still a little tired.”

“Can I get you anything?”

“Nah, thanks.  I’m all right, Mom.”

She nodded, and then she and Beth went back out to the porch with some more crumpets.

I tried to regain my surly disposition as I finished my cereal, hoping to showcase it for Lara when she came out of her room.  After a few minutes, though, I let go of the act.  It wasn’t the end of the world after all.  I was even getting used to the background noise, I had to admit.

As I took my last bite of cereal, the music stopped abruptly in mid-song.  My heart was still pounding, remembering the pulse of the drums, but the long phrases of crashing waves soon took over the sudden silence.  Peace, at last…

After setting my plate in the sink, I walked out through the porch and down the back steps that led to the beach.  My aunt and uncle’s house was situated on the sands near the town of Montauk, a small fishing village on the tip of Long Island, New York.  I wasn’t overly fond of scratchy sand and salty water, but it was still pretty cool to spend a few weeks of the summer right on the ocean.

Standing on the bottom step, I looked out at the sea, shielding my eyes from the bright morning sun.  The Atlantic stretched out endlessly before me, filling me with a mix of feelings.  Despite visiting my aunt and uncle every summer for as long as I could remember, the first view of the ocean, after a year away, was always somewhat overwhelming.  Since we had arrived late the night before, this was my first opportunity to take it in.  The sparkle of light off the tips of chaotic waves and the endless muffled roar made me feel at once lonely, and hopeful.

The screen door behind me clattered open, shattering the calm.

“Come on, Matt!  We’re going to the beach,” announced Lara, as she and Julie bounced down the steps.

“Nah, I’m too tired,” I replied petulantly, quickly remembering my act.

“Oh, you’re such a wuss!  It’s after nine o’clock.  We’ve been up for like two hours.”

“Well, I need my sleep.  Otherwise, I get grumpy.”

“Pfft…  Obviously!  See you later then.”

They pressed by me and jumped down onto the sand, giggling.  I watched as they ran down towards the water.

So much for making her feel bad, I thought.  Then again, it was after nine.

I entertained the thought of going after Lara and Julie, but realized I wasn’t quite ready for the effort of swimming in what looked to be sizeable waves.  Nor was I quite ready for the effort of defending a sudden change of mind, so soon after rejecting Lara’s invitation.

I decided to go fishing instead.  There’s just something about fishing, be it in a stream, lake, or ocean.  Some people like to curl up with a cup of tea, or read a good book, or watch the sunrise; they use that time to think, and to appreciate the moment.  I love fishing for those same reasons.  It’s meditative.  There’s nothing like standing in a stream, casting out a fly at sunset into a deep pool, and just listening to nature and breathing in life. 

Hans had kindly picked up some bait before we arrived, knowing how much I enjoyed going down to the pier and casting for pan fish.  After gathering my gear and letting my parents know my plans, I headed out.

The pier was empty when I got there.  I walked the hundred yards out to the end, baited up the line, and cast out into the waves.  It was still a few hours before lunchtime, so I settled into my chair.  I tried to relax out of my morning funk, but my irritation changed over into embarrassment as I relived the morning’s events. 

Surely Julie thought I was ridiculous.  She hadn’t made much effort to hide her giggling, when I was standing there in my underwear.  I didn’t care about Lara seeing me like that; the two of us were pretty immodest around each other in private.  But Julie…?  Julie had been Lara’s best friend in Montauk since forever, but my interactions with her had always been minimal.  That our first meeting this year came under such awkward circumstances made my face heat up again.  I wondered what they were saying about me as they lay on the beach. 

An hour and a bucketful of pan fish later, I started regretting my choice of a long-sleeve shirt.  It was getting too hot even with the sleeves rolled up, so I started packing up.  Besides, someone was starting the long walk down the pier.  Ever since some old dog talked my ear off for two hours about politics the year before, I had decided to avoid unsolicited fishing companions.  If I wanted to hear incessant talking, I could go home and listen to my aunt and mothers go on all day.

“Any luck?” came the voice, as I was kneeling before my gear.

“What?” 

I looked up at a cute girl in overalls smiling down at me.  I stood up too quickly, kneeing my bucket and sending it tumbling.  A jet of water splashed up at the girl, but she nimbly dodged it.  My fish scattered over the deck and started flopping around.

“Oh, crap!  Sorry,” I said, scrambling for the fish.  Idiot!

“I take that to be a yes,” she said, laughing. 

The girl grabbed for the desperate fish too.  We gathered them up, but not before half had fallen through the cracks between the planks and back to their home.  For the second time that day I felt my face heating up. 

“Well, there goes lunch,” I said, half to myself.  I felt retarded as I put the last fish in the bucket and stood up again, more carefully this time.

“You can get some more,” she said simply.

I stared down at the fish we had salvaged.  Lacking water now, they struggled to breathe with heaving gills.  I felt a little like the fish did. 

“I guess.  It’s getting hot though.”

 “Well, you’re in a long-sleeved shirt,” she observed.

I started busily cleaning my fishing rod.  I rarely cleaned my rod, but suddenly it seemed vitally important.

 “Yeah… It was cooler when I got here.” 

When she didn’t reply, I looked up at her. 

Her eyes…!  Her eyes were alight with laughter.  There was so much life in them!  I stared for a second, or more, and she stared back before I realized what I was doing.  I turned my eyes back to my tackle.

“I’ve never seen you here before,” she said, baiting her hook.

“I don’t live here.  Just on vacation.  I got here last night.”

“From where?”

“I live in the Catskills.”

“Cool.  I go skiing up there a lot.”

“That’s cool.”

There was an awkward silence as she cast out her line.  I finished packing up my stuff, and stood up, considering the situation.  Now that the angler had turned out to be a cute girl, I wanted to stay.  I had just made a show of putting all my gear away, though.  It would look ridiculous to unpack and start fishing again.

“I have to go.  Good luck,” I said quickly.

“Bye!” she said without turning. 

I stared at her for a few seconds, hoping I could see her eyes once more.  Then I picked up my gear and walked back to my aunt’s house.  The whole way there, I berated myself for not staying.  I cringed every time I thought of knocking the bucket over, and almost getting her wet.

Hans had the grill going when I got back to the house, and my fish were a welcomed addition to the striped bass steaks he was preparing.  I left out the part about losing half of my catch. 

As I helped set the table, I was lost in thought, replaying the bucket scene over and over.  A few times, when someone asked me something, I didn’t even hear them. 

The pan fish were tasty but hardly more than an appetizer, given their diminished numbers.  Regardless, Hans stuffed himself with fish and potatoes.  He ate like a pig, but was very trim, a benefit of being a tennis pro.  His ancestry (and thus my mom’s) was German and Norwegian, and they both looked it.  Sarah was statuesque.  She had the same green eyes and blonde hair as Hans, although the sinewy toughness of her brother was well tempered by the curves that come from female genes. 

Melissa was chatting with Aunt Beth.  Their twin pairs of eyes always looked like they were hiding some mischief, and usually they were.  Lara had the same mischief in her eyes, though she looked more like our father, with jet black hair and round eyes.

Julie had joined us for lunch.  She and Lara were deep in conversation, so I took the opportunity to look at Julie a bit more.  I had avoided looking at her in Lara’s room that morning, so I hadn’t noticed that she had really matured since last year.  Her sandy-blonde hair was now shoulder length and framed her face in a good way, I thought. 

Last year she had been somewhat gangly and young-looking.  Her face and body had filled out in the right places, and she looked great.  I took in her features for a few moments.

“Earth to Matt!” Aunt Beth said.  She looked at Julie and then at me again.  “Pass the potatoes, please?” she said, her eyes twinkling. 

How long had I been staring at Julie, I wondered?  Luckily, she hadn’t noticed.

The next morning I got up at seven.  After a long night of reliving my clumsiness with both Julie and the girl on the pier, I decided to go fishing again and see what would happen. 

I rushed out of the house with my gear, ignoring my moms’ calls of “Did you eat anything?”

By eight, I had settled into my chair, and started mulling over what I would do if she showed up again.  A bunch of scenarios that seemed really dorky were all that came to mind.  Eventually, I decided to play it by ear.

About an hour later I saw someone coming down the path to the pier.  Part of me wanted to dive into the water and hide, but the other part was excited.  As the person drew closer, I realized it was a man.  Reluctantly, I decided to pack up and head out, in case it was the talkative guy from last year.  It seemed like a good decision, as the man set up near to where I was packing up and started to make small talk.  I soon excused myself. 

As I made my way back to shore, I looked ahead and felt like screaming.  The girl was walking towards the pier!  I cursed to myself. 

“Hey,” she said, stopping near me.  “How was the fishing?”

“Uh, it was all right.”  I tipped the bucket and let her look in.  I had about twelve fish. 

“Well, that should be enough for two,” she said.

I frowned.  “Nah, they’re pretty big.  I think five people.”

“Well, if you make it home with all of them, then yeah,” she said, suppressing a laugh. 

I felt a blush spreading over my face.  “Thanks a lot,” I said, looking at the deck.

“No, no! I was just teasing you,” she said.  She looked in the bucket again, and nodded seriously.  “That’s a good catch.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Well, I better get them while they’re out,” she said, heading down the pier.  “Bye!”

“Bye.”

I looked after her.  So much for the cool dialogue I had hoped for.  I was tempted to call out after her, but my throat wouldn’t make any sound.  Finally, I sighed and made the walk home, feeling something in my heart I had never felt before.

The next two days sucked.  I went to the pier both mornings, and even though I caught more fish than usual, I left after three hours when she didn’t show up.  I still felt hopeful, but frustration was setting in.  Why hadn’t I asked her name… asked if we could hang out again… asked a million other questions?  Instead I had grunted out two word answers to everything she said!

“Matt, are you okay?” Melissa asked me on the afternoon after my second pier-girl no-show.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I shrugged.  I was slouched on the porch couch, staring out at the waves.  My guitar was propped against the couch, having been played only for a few minutes.

“You seem preoccupied.”

“I’m okay.  Really.”

“You haven’t really been into the beach this year.  Is the water too cold?”

“I guess.”

She gave me a long look.  I stared at my hands and fidgeted.

“If there’s anything wrong, you can always talk to me, right?”

“I know, Mom.  I’m fine though.  Just… tired.  Bored, I guess.”

“Bored?  Go for a swim with Lara and Julie.  I’m sure they’d love to jump in the waves.”

“Maybe.”

“They’re down there now,” she said, gesturing to the beach. 

“I know.  I’m just going to chill here for a while.”

“Okay, sweetie.  Have some fun while we’re here.”

“I will,” I said vaguely.

Luckily she let it go at that.  What would she help anyway? 

For the first time in my life, fishing suddenly didn’t have the same appeal.  Instead of enjoying the experience, I was constantly glancing down the length of the pier hoping to spot her approach.  The empty stretch of weathered boards or the sight of a couple strolling down to the gazebo only made me feel lonelier. 

I didn’t go back after a third day of fishing in solitude.  I woke up and found myself venturing down to the beach, instead.  Perhaps my mom’s words had sunk in.

Julie and Lara were face down on their towels, turning bronze.  My quiet approach went unnoticed, so I picked up some dry sand and sprinkled a bit onto Lara’s back.

At first, there was no reaction.  Then she swatted awkwardly at an imagined fly.  Finally, her head turned towards me as she realized that it was sand that was tickling her.

“Matt!  What the hell?”

I laughed, but not before I had to dodge a fistful of sand tossed in my direction. 

Julie roused from her towel, turning to face me. 

“Why aren’t you fishing?” she asked.

I shrugged.  “Didn’t feel like it.  Too hot, I guess.”

“You should take a swim, then.”

“Maybe,” I said.

“Well, now I have to,” Lara announced, as she stood up.  She looked at me pointedly.  “Thanks.  The sand is stuck to my suntan lotion.” 

She was futilely trying to brush the sand from her back.  I sniggered, and then reached over to help.

“Oh, don’t bother,” she said, swatting my hand away.

I shrugged.  “Just trying to help,” I said.

Lara gave me a frown.

Julie hopped up, and the three of us walked down the warm sand to the water’s edge.  The first wave that washed over our feet brought a shriek from the girls.

“Cold!”

“Haven’t you been in already?” I asked.

“No, not yet,” Julie answered.

“We were trying to get some tanning in,” Lara said dramatically, giving me a frown.

“And I was trying to get some sleep in, the other day,” I answered.

“Oh, give it up, Matt,” Lara said.  “That was like a week ago.”  She splashed me by kicking at the froth of a receding wave.

The water was cold. 

I waded in, deciding to act brave. 

“It’s nice,” I yelled, as I sunk into the sea and pushed out to deeper waters.

After they exchanged a few words I couldn’t hear, the girls ventured in after me, hesitating with each wave that splashed at them.  I found myself watching Julie whenever her attention was focused on the ocean.  She was cute, turning her back to the approaching breakers and holding her hands open at her sides as if she could stop the water before it splashed higher on her body.  These repeated looks quickly became addictive, as I took in her bikini-clad form.  A few times I found myself looking into her eyes as she turned towards me, and I had to glance away.

Eventually the girls were deep enough to catch a larger swell and get mostly wet, and they waded out nearer to me, just past where the waves began to form white tops. 

“I don’t think I’ll be in here very long,” Julie said after a minute.

“Yeah,” Lara agreed.  “I think the sand is off me now.”

“It’s not that bad,” I said, even though I was freezing.  “You just need to keep moving to stay warm.”

I waded closer to Lara, who gave me a suspicious look.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“You want to jump?”

Lara looked at me, still suspicious, even though it was something we always did when we swam. 

“No,” she said, after a glance at Julie.  “We’re not ten anymore, Matt.”

I was somewhat stung by the reply, but I just shrugged.  “All right.”

“I’ll do it,” Julie announced after a moment. 

My insides jumped.  Despite secretly hoping for this chance, I felt nervous as she waded closer.

She put her foot in my intertwined hands, and steadied herself by holding my shoulders.  With a heave, she flew into the air, before landing awkwardly in the water.  She came up spluttering and Lara and I both laughed.

“Perfect form,” Lara teased, now interested in the game.  “Here, let me show you how it’s done.”

Lara was just as ungraceful, since her foot slipped out of my hands before I had pushed her all the way up.

Julie came closer to me again, grinning at Lara. 

Despite the fact that my arms were already burning from the cold water and the effort of lifting them, I wasn’t going to turn down the opportunity to be close to Julie.  Her skin was so smooth…

Eventually, even the exercise was not enough to keep the chill of the water at bay, and we retreated to the sand again.  The girls returned to their towels, and I stood awkwardly nearby for a moment, wondering what to do.  Standing there looking at Julie’s bottom was probably not the best option, attractive as it was.

“I’m, uh, going to go eat something.  I’ll see you later,” I announced.

“Bye, Matt,” Julie said.

Lara was silent as I walked up the sand towards my aunt’s steps.  I realized I hadn’t thought about the girl at the pier for at least an hour.

My sudden obsession with the fishing girl had diminished, so swimming with Julie and Lara became my activity of choice.  Even though initially I had felt some discomfort at being in a bathing suit around Julie, I realized she was just as exposed as I was when we were out on the beach.  I found that fact to be quite enjoyable, even if I was subtle about my looking.

One morning, as I sat on the beach next to Lara, I noticed Julie was approaching with a friend walking at her side.

“Who’s that?” I asked.

Lara pushed herself up a little, and squinted as she looked down the length of the sand.  It took her a moment to pick out the couple I meant.

“Oh, that’s James.  Remember him?”

“The Scottish kid?”

“Mm hmm.  Yummy…”

I sniggered, raising a brow at her.  “Yummy?”

“Yeah, he’s cute.”

I’d met James the year before, during the town’s fireworks display.  As he and Julie approached, I felt a little… anxious. 

“Looks like he’s together with Julie,” I said quietly.

“No, he’s not,” Lara said simply, as they neared.

Julie waved happily to us.

“You remember James from last summer, right?” she said.

“Hi James,” Lara said, smiling up at him.

“Hey, Lara.  Matt.”

“What’s up?” I greeted, trying to match the depth of his voice.  There was no competing with the accent, though.

I watched Lara make eyes at him as they spread their towels out.  Julie ended up next to Lara, and James put his towel beyond Julie’s.

“So last night Meghan called me, and she was totally drunk…” James said, starting a story about someone I had never heard of. 

The towel arrangement was great for Lara and Julie, since they were in the middle, but I felt quite far away from the three of them.  I listened to the story with mild interest, but soon found myself missing the feeling of the last few days that I had spent with just the two girls alone.

Even after the four of us moved to the water for a swim, there was no escaping the feeling of aloofness that I felt.

Although I liked James, his presence dampened the fun I had with Julie, tame as it was.  When I spotted him and Julie approaching along the sand the following morning, I decided to go fish instead of following Lara down to the beach.

The obsession with the girl at the pier had not fully receded, after all; I found myself wondering if I was really going there just to catch lunch. 

Some apprehension about seeing her welled up as I approached, and I considered turning back.   I was in the mood to fish, though, so I walked out along the jetty anyway. 

About halfway out to the end, I heard someone call out behind me.  I turned to find her walking quickly to catch up with me, and a surge of nervous excitement swept through me. 

“Hey!” she said brightly, as she plopped her gear down and caught her breath.

“Hey.”

“You haven’t been around the last few days.  I thought maybe you went back home,” she said. 

“Nah, I just had some stuff to do at the house.”

“I’m sorry I teased you the other day.  I hope you’re not mad.”  She seemed sincere.

“No, it’s fine,” I said dismissively, looking around.  “I was the one who knocked my fish over like a retard.”

“That was pretty funny,” she said with a small laugh.  “Want to fish together?”

“Um, sure.”

We headed down the pier.  I grew anxious as I started worrying about what to say.  The girl seemed relatively comfortable with the silence, but by the time we reached the end of the pier my head was a jumble of stupid things I probably shouldn’t say out loud.  We set up in a corner, away from the other people there.

“Um, you weren’t here the last two times I was here,” I blurted out, as I lowered the rope holding my bucket over the rail.  Great, I thought, now she thinks I’m a stalker.  But everything else that came to mind seemed worse.

“I had to work,” she said simply.

“Oh…  Where do you work?” I asked.  I pulled in the rope, and then I poured some of the water from my bucket into hers.

“Oh, thanks…!  I work down at the fish market.”

“That’s cool.  What do you do?”

“Everything.  Mostly cleaning and selling fish.  My parents own the place.”

“Which market?”

“Martin’s.  It’s down by the charter docks, on the water.”

“Yeah, I know the one.  We buy fish there a lot.”

We baited up and cast out.  I was hoping the fishing would ease my nerves, but the silence felt even more uncomfortable.  Finally I started thinking straight and remembered that she skied.

“So where do you ski?  You said you go to the Catskills a lot?”

“Well, not as much as I want.  Usually we go to Windham, or Hunter Mountain.  Sometimes we go up to Vermont, too.”

“That’s a long ride, from here.”

“Yeah, but we go for a week at a time.  Do you ski?” she asked.

“Yeah.  Same places, pretty much.”

“You’re lucky to live nearby.”

“Yeah, that makes it easy.  We live about ten minutes from Hunter.”

“Hah, looks like I’ll be taking home some lunch!” 

She pulled in a fish, deftly unhooked it and plopped it in her bucket.  I looked at her as she smiled at me. 

Her eyes were beautiful!  That’s all I needed to see to suddenly start feeling better again.

“Don’t you get all the fish you want through your store?” I asked, snapping out of my stare.

“Sure.”

“So why do you fish?”

“Why do you fish?” she echoed.

“I don’t know,” I said slowly.  “I guess I like the peace… It’s fun… I can catch my own food… Lots of reasons.”

“Mm hmm.”  She cast out again.

I looked at her when she didn’t answer.  “What about you?”

“Same reasons.  Hey, two-zip.”

“What?”

“Got another one.”

Indeed, she pulled up her second fish. 

“I didn’t know it was a contest,” I said, laughing slightly.

“It’s not.  But I’m still winning,” she said, smiling at me.

We spent the next hour in relative quiet, with occasional small talk.  Eventually, after she had caught about eleven fish, she decided to head home.  I had caught three, even though we were on the same bait and standing a few feet from each other. 

We walked back to the shore together, stopping when I had to turn down the beach to go home.

“Will you be back tomorrow?” she asked.

“Um, yeah, probably in the morning,” I replied.

“Oh, then I think I’ll come in the afternoon.”

“Okay.  Maybe I’ll see you some other time then.”  I studied my tackle box, feeling my stomach sinking to my feet.  I looked up at her when she laughed out loud.

“I was just kidding.  Don’t take me so seriously!”

I felt heat in my face, but didn’t say anything. 

“I’ll come tomorrow morning, too.  What time will you be here?” she asked.

“I don’t know.  Maybe nine?”

“Cool.  See you then!”

I stood there, amazed, as she left.  Had she just said she would come in the morning?  She turned and smiled once before going around the corner and disappearing.

I practically ran home.

That afternoon I was floating on air, and obviously talking more than usual.  Melissa noticed.

“What’s gotten into you?” she asked, looking up from her Gourmet magazine as we lounged on the beach. 

“What do you mean?”

“I haven’t seen you this happy in a while.”

“Had a good fishing morning, I guess.”

“Really…  Three fish is a good fishing morning?” she asked, suddenly more interested.

“I caught more but didn’t bring them home,” I said, without missing a beat.

She looked at me.  I avoided her stare, suddenly getting the feeling that she knew what was going on.  Whenever she smiled and got that mischievous look in her eyes, she knew.  Before she had the chance to probe any further I got up from my towel.

“I’m going to swim.”

Melissa nodded.  “Mm hmm.”

Julie and Lara were splashing around, looking bored.  The waves were small and they weren’t having any luck trying to ride them.  I waded out and tackled Julie, and she let out a surprised squeak.  My hands brushed across her breast, but I didn’t care.  After I threw her through the air, I gave my sister the same treatment.  They came up spluttering.  

“Matt!” they both yelled, splashing me.

“Don’t splash me!” I yelled back, sending jets of water their way.

The situation turned difficult when they decided to gang up on me.  Not that I was complaining!  Having Julie try to wrestle me underwater was definitely not a problem.  I could feel her breasts pressed into my back, and her legs around mine trying to trip me up.  Lara was pulling on my neck from the side, and eventually we all splashed into the water. 

After a while I waded away, since Julie’s touches were becoming more and more physical.  I couldn’t really control my arousal anymore, and there was great danger of a stray hand touching something that would give it away.

The girls made chase for a bit, but I was too fast and eventually settled about twenty feet from them.  They whispered conspiratorially for a while, with occasional giggles.  I just enjoyed the water and watched the people on the beach, pretending to ignore their looks and quiet talk.

“Okay, we won’t splash you, if you don’t splash us anymore,” said Lara after some time.

“Sure.”  I kept my distance despite the offer.

“Come on.  Truce?” she pleaded, holding out her hand. 

I looked at it warily.  I had cooled off down below, so I waded back to them and shook Lara’s hand.   “Truce.”

They started talking about Madonna, probably just to rile me up.  I was in such a good mood, though; I even joined in the conversation.  Imagine that!

After a brief silence, Lara announced she had to use the bathroom, and waded out.  Julie stayed behind.  Suddenly, I felt a familiar nervousness.

“You’re in a good mood,” she said. 

“It happens sometimes.”

“I like it,” she said a bit coyly. 

I shrugged and gave her a small smile.

“Sorry about that first morning.  I didn’t know you were sleeping,” she said.

“It’s not your fault.  Lara knew I was asleep.  She was just being Lara.”

“Did you really borrow her True Blue cassette?” she asked after a pause. 

Great, my favorite topic.  I might as well fess up, I thought.  “Yeah, I admit it.  I borrowed it.  I was like eight, and I didn’t know any better.”

“You were not eight!  That album only came out a couple of years ago.  I was twelve when I got it, and so were you.”

“Whatever.”

“I think it’s cute,” Julie said.

 “Cute?”

“Yeah, you were into Madonna,” she said with a giggle.

“Um, not really.  It was a brief phase.  Like one or two days.”

“That’s not what Lara said, she –”

“Next topic,” I interrupted, not liking the direction the conversation was headed.  Normally I would have wanted to crawl under a rock, but my mood was still high, so I shrugged it off.

“Okay.  What’s the next topic?” Julie asked.  The waves had pushed her closer to me, and I could see a few strands of hair which crossed her forehead.

“Anything but Madonna.”

“How about Duran Duran?”

“Give me a break!” I retorted, but I knew she was kidding when I saw her smile. 

She had a great smile.  It lit up her face.  I hadn’t paid attention before this summer, but she was really pretty.  Her light freckles accented a cute face with big brown eyes.  I boldly looked at her for a few seconds, before self-consciousness got the better of me and I looked back to the shore.

“Where is Lara?” I asked.  “She’s taking her time.” 

A large swell lifted us.  Suddenly, just as I caught sight of Lara coming out of the house, I was underwater.  I breathed in a big gulp of air.  The problem was that I was underwater.  I flailed about, and came up sputtering.  My eyes, throat and nose all burned from the salt. 

Julie was laughing hard and shaking water out of her eyes.  Maybe they were tears of laughter.  I coughed for a while, unable to retaliate, and spit up the last bit of seawater.

“I thought we had a truce!” I said vehemently.

“You and Lara did,” she corrected.

“So this bathroom ploy was just to get me back?”

“Maybe,” she said evasively, though the glint in her eyes gave it away.

I splashed her with water.  That started another huge water fight, which continued with me tackling Julie into the water, gripping her waist tightly.  Lara arrived somewhere in the middle of the fight, and eventually the girls overwhelmed me with water.  I escaped at last, and made my way out of the ocean and onto the beach.

“Wuss!” cried out Lara, as the girls whooped in victory behind me. 

I ignored them and headed inside to get some soda and clear the burn. 

Back on the sand with a Coke, I watched Lara and Julie sitting cross-legged in the shallows, talking and occasionally looking over at me.  They’re probably planning their next water fight, I thought.  I was looking forward to it.

“Having fun?” Melissa asked, peering at me from behind her magazine.

I just shrugged nonchalantly.

After dinner that evening, I went to my room to play my guitar and watch the sunset from my window.  I was interrupted by a knock.

“What?” I called out.

The door opened and Julie and Lara came in.  They closed the door, which struck me as odd.  They also had a beach bag with towels in it.

“I’m not going back in the water,” I said, before they could speak.

“Oh, come on, Matt.  I know you want to go to the beach,” said Lara.  She pushed the towel aside and showed me the contents of the bag.  I saw the top of a bottle sticking out from under a towel.

“Where did you get that?” I said quietly.

“Julie’s brother bought us two bottles of Jack Daniels this afternoon.  So let’s go?”

Julie’s brother Jack was twenty-one, and reportedly a party animal.  He’d had some run-ins with the law, involving minors and alcohol.  I guess he hadn’t changed much.

I hesitated for a second.  Lara and I were no strangers to drinking.  When our mothers had guests over for parties at our house, Lara and I would often have a few friends over, too, and stay out of the way of the adults.  These “movie nights” were held in a small guest cabin we had behind our house, and usually involved some drinking.  We had a source of alcohol through a schoolmate, and kept a stash of beers and liquor in a cairn in the woods. 

Occasionally, my tendency for quietness led me to drink somewhat heavily at these get-togethers.  Although I could sneak into my room through the side door and avoid the questions of my mothers, I usually felt like crap the next day.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to feel that way.  After all, I had a… meeting at nine the next morning.

“I don’t know, Lara,” I said warily.

“Don’t worry.  Everyone is going out to a bar tonight, and we’ll be back before them.”

“Um…”

“Hurry up.  We’re meeting James at the pier.”

“All right,” I said, still a bit reluctant.  “Let’s go.”

I vowed to control myself.

Sure enough the next morning I felt like crap.  I rolled over in bed, trying to get some moisture back in my mouth.  It was useless: I was totally dehydrated.  Finally, I got up to get some water from the bathroom.  My room felt like it was on springs.

“Shit!” I said, looking at my watch. 

It was nine-thirty.  At nine, I was supposed to have met the pier girl, as I’d started thinking of her. 

Lara came out of her room, and she looked like hell.  From the appearance of the guy in the mirror, I figured I looked about as good as she did.  I suddenly felt resentment towards her for dragging me out the night before. 

She closed the bathroom door behind her.

“I feel like crap,” I said pointedly. 

“You’ll live,” she said, sitting down to pee.

“Thanks, I didn’t know that,” I said.  I took a few deep breaths.  “I have to go.”

“I’m almost done,” she replied.

“No, I mean I have to go out.”

“Where?”

“Fishing.  I was meeting someone at nine,” I said, before thinking.

“Who?” she asked, looking up at me suspiciously.

“Oh, some… dude I was talking to yesterday,” I said, perhaps a bit too quickly.  “He plays guitar, too,” I added, hoping the story would ring more true. 

I wasn’t really sure why I had lied.  My sister and I were pretty close, despite our occasional spats.  For some reason, though, I didn’t feel like telling her about the pier girl. 

“Cool.  You should have thought of that last night and set an alarm,” she said, sniffing.

“Pfft.  I don’t even know if I would’ve set it right.”

“Oh well.  Too late now…  Me and Julie and James are going to take the bikes and ride around later.  Do you want to come?”

I looked at her for a second.  “I’ll see what’s going on.  I don’t know if I can even ride a bike today.  I’ll be lucky to walk to the pier.”

“We’re going at three, so be back by then if you want to go.”

She went back to her room.  I showered quickly, and tried to remove the cobwebs from my head.  Finally, around ten, I grabbed my stuff and headed to the pier. I was hoping I was not too late.

When I got to the pier I was relieved to see someone at the end.  As I got closer I saw that it was her.  I felt excited, but also nervous since I was over an hour late.

“Hey,” I said, as I approached.  She turned and looked at me.  There was no anger in her eyes, I thought, relieved.

“You’re late,” she said.

“Sorry,” I said sheepishly.

“I don’t think I can fish with you.”

I stared back at her.  There was no laughter in her eyes either, I suddenly noticed. 

“Um, why?  I’m sorry.  I overslept.”

“You said nine, and I already got nine fish, so I don’t think I can fish with you.”

I stood there for second, fidgeting with my fishing rod. 

“Okay, I’m sorry.” 

I bent down and picked up my tackle box, red-faced. She looked at me for a second, and then burst out laughing.

“Didn’t you hear what I said, yesterday?”

“What?” I replied, confused.

“Don’t take everything I say so seriously!”

“I didn’t – I didn’t know!  I thought maybe you were pissed at me or something.”

“No, I was just teasing you.  Come on, get your pole ready.  You have a long way to catch up.  It’s eleven to two.”

I hurriedly baited up and cast out, relieved that I hadn’t messed up too badly.  Eleven to two?  I thought I had caught three fish the previous day, but I was too embarrassed to say anything.

“So, long night last night?” she asked, once I had settled against the railing.

“How did you guess?”

“Your eyes are red.  You look tired,” she explained.  “And you’re an hour late.”

“Yeah, thanks for reminding me,” I said.

“Good party?”

“Nah.  Just hung out with my sister and her friends.  They had a bottle of Jack, and things… well, things got a little out of hand.”

“Ah.”

There was a brief silence.

“How old are your sister and her friends?” she asked.

“Fourteen.”

“So how did you manage the alcohol?  Steal it from your dad’s liquor cabinet?”

“No, Julie’s brother got it for us.  For her, actually, and she shared it with us.”  I felt a little silly explaining.

“Julie is your sister’s friend?”

“Yeah.  Her brother is twenty-one, and he bought it for her.”

“Jack Laetsch,” she said simply.

“Yeah, how did you know?”

“Sounds like him.  I know Julie, too.”

I looked at her.  Suddenly she seemed much older than me.  I felt like a five-year-old talking about the candy I stole.

“How old are you?” she asked, as if reading my thoughts. 

I hesitated for a moment, tempted to inflate my age.  “Fourteen also,” I said at last.

“So you and your sister are twins?” she said, turning towards me with new interest.

“No.”

“Wow.  Then your mom had you really close together.”

“No, we’re about a week apart.”

She looked at me with a quizzical look.  Then she realized.  “Oh, so she’s your stepsister?”

“Yeah, like that,” I said quickly. 

I felt uncomfortable explaining my family situation to people who I didn’t know well.  The girl must have sensed it because she changed the topic back to my lateness.

“So basically you went out partying with a few girls and some whiskey, and then you stood me up in the morning?”

I was about to make some lame excuse when I looked at her.  This time all the mirth was in her eyes, and I remembered what she had said.

“Yeah, that’s it exactly.  I’m a busy man,” I said with as much humor as I could muster.

She laughed and said, “You’re funny.”

I didn’t think I was particularly funny, but I was happy that she thought so.

We spent the next two hours hanging out.  Eventually, after she had caught twenty-six fish, she put her rod down and asked if she could sit in my chair, since I was standing at the rail.

“Help yourself,” I said, “I have a long way to go.” 

I had only caught three.

“You know, you suck at fishing,” she said.

“What?”  I looked at her, and again saw the mischief in her eyes. 

“I caught almost twenty in the last two hours.  You only have two fish.”

“Three,” I said defensively.

“All right, three.  Whatever.  That’s still weak.” 

She was right.  I turned and gave her a level look.  “I usually have better luck.  I think you must be bad luck.”

“Ouch, that hurt,” she said pouting.

“No, I was just kidding,” I said quickly, feeling bad.

“I know.  I was just joking back, silly.” 

She let out a giggle. 

I let out a breath, somewhat exasperated.  Her teasing was merciless. She stood up and stretched. 

“Darn.  I have to get to work.  Here, take some of my fish,” she said, grabbing her bucket.

“Um, thanks, but I can catch my own,” I said.

She looked up at me with a doubtful look, and then grinned.

“Suit yourself, then.  I’ll be here tomorrow at nine,” she announced, as she gathered up her things. 

“Cool.  I’ll come by, too.”

“Great.  Maybe I’ll see you, maybe not!”  She walked off down the pier before I could answer.

That afternoon I went to help Melissa with some errands.  We had to get some supplies from the hardware store, and some food for the evening meal.  I didn’t think anything of it until we stopped for some fish at the market.  It was Martin’s Fish Market, I realized, after we were on our way inside.  I thought about waiting outside, but that would have been odd, since I always liked going in to see the fish selection.

Naturally, the pier girl was working the counter.  She spotted me instantly and smiled mischievously.  I pretended to study the fish intently, ignoring her when she grinned at me through the glass display cabinet as she grabbed some fillets.  She finished with the customer ahead of us, and my mom and I stepped up.

“Hi, can I help you?” she said cheerily to my mom.

“We need some fish.  What’s fresh?” asked Melissa.

“Oh, we have lots of good stuff today.”  She ran down the haul from the morning, as my mom listened and nodded. 

“No luck at the pier this morning, then?” the girl asked me pointedly.

“No,” I said sheepishly.  I’d managed only one more after she had left.

Melissa looked at us.  “Do you two know each other?” she asked, with a touch of surprise and humor in her voice. 

I had a feeling she already knew the answer.  “Um, yeah… She was on the pier this morning when I was there,” I said. 

“He was having some trouble catching fish.  When I left he only had two.”

“Three,” I said lamely, half to myself. 

I didn’t even bother mentioning the other one I’d caught, after she had left.

“I offered him some of mine, but he refused,” she continued confidently.

My mom eyed the exchange with a grin.  Fortunately she must have sensed my discomfort and she placed her order without further delay.  The pier girl set about getting the fish, while I shifted about.  She rang us up, and I thought I had escaped relatively unscathed.  But as we said goodbye and turned to go, she called out to me.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning.  Don’t be late again!”

Despite a strong urge to run, I managed to leave at a quick walk.

As expected, the car ride was uncomfortable.

“So, you ‘caught some fish you didn’t bring home’ the other day, huh?” my mom asked with a grin.  Her eyes were fixed firmly on the road.

“What?  No, that’s not what I meant.  I mean, she was there, but we just talked for a few minutes…  I don’t know her really.”  I sounded pretty stupid, I thought to myself.  “She showed up again this morning, too,” I added.

“Just talked for a few minutes, and you already have a date set up for tomorrow, huh?”

“It’s not a date!”

“No, of course not.  I’m glad you found someone to fish with who’s your own age.  She’s cute.  What’s her name?”

“I don’t know,” I said slowly, partly surprised at the answer. 

I had thought of it a few times earlier that morning, but it seemed too late.  Like we were already beyond names, and to ask now would be stupid.  Like asking a waiter how much your dish cost after you started eating it.

“Does she play guitar?” my mom asked suddenly.

“What?” I said, confused.

“Don’t worry…  I won’t tell Lara anything,” Mom said mysteriously.

“What do you mean?”  I frowned.

“She mentioned you rushing off to meet a guitar player this morning.” 

Another mischievous smile crossed my mom’s face, when I glanced at her.  She never looked at me though.

“Oh, yeah, he, uh, never showed up,” I said, pretending to yawn. 

I was trying really hard to stifle the butterflies in my stomach.

“Ah.” 

Fortunately we arrived at the house before I dug myself in any deeper.

At three, the girls convinced me to go on their bike trip.  I was feeling relatively steady by then, so I went along.  Lara and Julie were surprisingly well recovered from the night before, when we had ended up out at the pier’s gazebo. 

As I pulled the bikes from my uncle’s garage, I recalled the events of the previous night.  James had met us there, and we watched the last part of the sunset as we slugged from the bottle of whiskey.  The addition of alcohol made hanging out as a foursome more fun.  James was a pretty funny guy, and I thought I managed a few funny lines myself.  Two hours later and most of the bottle gone, we had headed back up the beach to our house.  Julie was staying the night with us, so we hung out on the porch for a while until the adults returned, at which point James left out the back door and we retreated to our rooms to sleep and avoid any questions.

“Was your friend pissed?” asked Lara, as we started out biking along the beach road.

“What?” I said absently.

“Your friend that you were meeting.  Guitar man.”

“Oh, no…  Actually, he didn’t show up.”

“Shame…  You got up for nothing,” she said.  “Should have stayed in bed.”

“I guess.”

I changed the subject before any further explanation became necessary. 

That night I set my alarm, so I was at the pier at eight-thirty the next morning.  She was already there, with her line in the water. 

“You’re late,” she said, not even turning to look at me.

“But you said …” I stopped when I got to the rail and saw her grin.  I was learning. Slowly, but I was.

“Was that your mom yesterday?”

I hesitated for a moment.  “Yeah.”

“How come you didn’t tell her about me?” she asked, her tone wounded.

“Um, I don’t know,” I said sheepishly.

“You could have at least introduced us,” she said with a glint in her eye.

I looked at her for a long moment.  “I don’t know your name,” I admitted.

“Oh, that’s right!” she said knowingly.

I waited as she looked at me.  I returned the stare.

“So?” she asked expectantly.

“So what?”

“Aren’t you going to ask my name?”  

I could sense the friendly challenge in her voice.  I felt like teasing her for a change.

“I don’t know.  Maybe I won’t.” 

“Come on.  I know you want to know my name,” she teased. 

I did.  But I also felt like playing around with her, now that it had become a talking point.

“Nah, I don’t need to know it.”

I went to bait my hook, acting nonchalant. She looked at me for a moment more, considering something.

“Fine.  Suit yourself, Matt.” 

I managed to skewer my finger with the pointed barb, and winced in pain. 

She knew my name? 

I pretended that nothing had happened, although a drop of blood blossomed as I pulled the barb out.  I heard a suppressed chuckle from her as she saw me lick my wound.

“Ah, first one today,” she said cheerily, as she pulled in a fish.

How did she know my name?  I couldn’t remember if I had said it the first day, although I really doubted it.  I had vivid memories of spilling my bucket and the subsequent awkward encounter, and exchanging names was definitely not part of it.  Neither had it been brought up during our fishing time.

A million questions went through my head as I finally got my line together and cast out.  In the confusion of my thoughts I forgot to disengage the reel lock, and the line whipped around and caught up in a tangled mess around the tip of the rod.  My bait flew off the hook and into the ocean.

“Nice cast, Matt!” I heard her say. 

I groaned.  The familiar feeling of a beet red face was creeping up on me.  I didn’t know what to say, so I stayed quiet and went about untangling my line.  My playfulness sank out of sight as quickly as my wasted bait.

By the time I was ready to fish again, ten minutes later, she had already caught three more fish, each of which she loudly announced with glee, and always using my name in the announcement.  Despite her endless teasing, there was such fun in her voice that I couldn’t help but laugh with her when I managed to tangle my line yet again. 

“I give up,” I said, plopping down in my chair and dropping my rod to the deck with a clatter.  “So what is your name?”

“You said, ‘I don’t need to know it,’ ” she mimicked in a low voice.

I laughed.  “All right, so I did.  I do want to know your name, though.  I was just playing around with you.”

“So am I.”

I resigned myself to the fact that I had lost control of my own game.

“Okay, so at least tell me how you knew my name,” I pleaded.

“I don’t know your name.”  She turned to me, smiling.  “Is your name Matt?”

“Well, yeah!  You just said it, like ten times.”

“I guessed it,” she announced emphatically.

“No way!  That’s impossible,” I said.  “I must have said it the other day.”

“Nope.  You never said your name to me.  I’m just a good guesser.”

I watched her for a moment as she scrunched her face up at me. 

“Do you always tease people like this?”

“No.  Just you,” she said simply, as she reeled in another fish. 

She flashed me a smile that I couldn’t help but return.

That afternoon as I sat on the beach, I wondered what was wrong with me.  After two hours of everything from random guessing to outright pleading, I still didn’t know the pier girl’s name.  My game had backfired badly.  I was constantly being teased, and did foolish things left and right when she was around. 

Yet I couldn’t stop thinking about her.  I had no idea of her name, her age, or anything.  All I knew is that she worked at her family’s store, and that she liked to fish.  Somehow, she managed to make me forget how to fish.  I had brought home one fish that morning.  She had taken twelve of them home, although she had offered to share.  Despite her teasing, my obsession with the pier girl threatened to return. 

In reality, it already had.

Unfortunately, she had to work the next few days, so fishing again held no interest the next morning. 

When I went down to the beach, Lara and James were already in the water.  Julie was nowhere to be seen.  As I spread out my towel and kicked off my flip-flops, I caught Julie’s voice coming down from the house as my mom let her in through the front.

“They’re already swimming,” Sarah said.

I waited, and soon Julie emerged from the porch.  She was wearing my favorite swimsuit, and I couldn’t help feeling a twinge of excitement as I watched her walk along the sand towards me, smiling cheerily.

“You’re here!” she said.

I nodded, surprised at how happy that seemed to make her.

“Too hot to fish?” she asked, knowing my usual excuse.

I nodded again.  “Yeah.  Thought I’d swim a little.”

Julie eyed the waves, and then put down her beach bag.  As she wriggled out of her shorts, I spread her towel out for her so I wouldn’t just be standing there watching her undress.  For some reason I felt myself blush slightly at the act of helping with her towel.

“Oh, thanks, Matt!”

“No problem.  Ready to swim?”

“I’m going to get some sun first, I think,” she said, after considering the water again.

“Okay.”

She dug through her bag.  There was nothing to do besides watch her, this time.  In fact, I had trouble taking my eyes off of her. 

She found her suntan lotion at last.  “Are you going in?”

“Um…  I guess I’ll lay out, too,” I said.

She opened the cap and held out the bottle to me. 

“I’ll be all right,” I said, waving the offer away.

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t really burn.”

“You do tan really nicely,” she said, and then seemed to realize her words, and the tone she had used.  It was hard to tell in the bright sun, but her face seemed to turn a bit red for a moment as she turned away, smiling.

She busily applied the cream to her limbs, and I sat on my towel.  Though my gaze was directed towards the waves, my attention was definitely focused on my peripheral vision!

“Um, would you… like, put some on my back?  Lara usually does, but…”

I turned to Julie, shielding my eyes from the sun.  “Sure.” 

I hopped up, and gingerly applied the cream to the skin between her two pieces of clothing.  Maybe having James distract Lara wasn’t so bad after all.  I reminded myself that I was just applying suntan lotion, but it was exciting nonetheless. 

“Are you sure you don’t want some?” she asked, when I finished.

“I’m good.”

I thought she seemed disappointed.  Did she want to return the favor?

Images of the pier girl’s face flashed into my mind as we settled onto our towels.  What if she came to the beach this morning?   No, she was working, of course.  Besides, it’s not like Julie and I were together.  Nor was I with the pier girl, I reminded myself.

“What are you thinking about?”

The question caught me by surprise.

“Huh?”

“You were staring off.”

“Oh.  I… I was just thinking about home.”  It was the third thing that came to mind, after the pier girl, and Julie’s body.

“Missing it?”

“No, not really.   I like it here.”

Julie smiled.  “Me too.”

We absorbed the sun’s rays.  My thoughts bounced back and forth between wanting to be on the pier, and wanting to be on Julie’s towel with her.  The more time I spent with her, the more I was growing to like her.  Was she feeling the same way?

But there was something about that girl in the overalls with the lively eyes, who liked to fish.  Just picturing her face made me feel a rush of pleasure through my body. 

I wasn’t sure I’d be given either choice this summer, but if I had to choose, I knew which I would pick. 

I had fun with Julie over the next few days, but I didn’t give her any sign that I was open to anything beyond having a good time.  I turned down an offer from Lara and her to go to the gazebo and drink from the other bottle of whiskey, since I was going to the pier early the next morning.  The pier girl was supposed to be there and I didn’t think showing up late and hung over again was a good idea. 

I also didn’t think being with Julie when we were both drunk was a good idea either.  Despite feeling in control when applying suntan lotion and tossing her around in the water, I didn’t know if I would be able to resist a direct advance from her, especially under the influence.

When I arrived at the pier, I was relieved to see the pier girl down at the end.  I walked the expanse of planks quickly and I chuckled when I passed the gazebo and saw an empty Jack Daniels bottle in the corner under the bench.  No wonder the girls were still sleeping when I left.

I spent the morning fishing with the pier girl.  My fishing luck was as bad as usual when I was with her.  But I’d had some time to think, so I felt much more relaxed around her and didn’t react to most of her gentle jibes.  There were no tangled lines this time.  The morning passed with a mixture of small talk and periods of quiet.

When we had had enough fishing, we walked back along the pier together, quite close to each other.  Things felt different, suddenly.  It was going to be a great summer.

“So… tomorrow, then?” I asked her confidently, as we approached our parting point.

“Is that an invitation?” she asked coyly.

“I guess.”

She took a deep breath.  “Well, Matt, I’m actually going away tomorrow with my family, so I will have to decline.  I will miss it, though.”

“Oh,” I said.  I felt a tightness grow in my stomach.  “How long are you gone for?”

“A few weeks,” she said, smiling apologetically.  “We’re going to see some relatives in Pennsylvania and Ohio,” she added.

“Well, we’re leaving in about ten days, so… I guess I won’t see you when you get back.”

“That’s too bad.  I had a good time fishing with you.”

My insecurities started surging up again, so I felt like leaving before I said something stupid.  It wasn’t like we were going out, but I suddenly felt very lonely, and needed to be alone.

“Yeah, I had a good time too.  Maybe I’ll see you next year,” I said.

“That would be nice.  I better go, or… I’ll be late for work.”

“Okay.  Bye.”

“Bye,” she said, looking at me oddly for a moment. 

After clearing the expectant look on her face, she came over and gave me a kiss on the cheek and flashed me a bright smile.

“Cheer up,” she said.  “You still have a week to practice your fishing so you can challenge me next year.”

I laughed despite the hollowness I felt inside.  As she walked away, I called out to her.

“Hey, what is your name after all?”

She stopped and looked back, the life and laughter full in her eyes. 

“I’m not telling,” she said, with a grin. 

I realized she was fully expecting the question, even though I had not thought of it until I asked it. 

She put her things down on the ground.  “But, that reminds me… This is yours.”

She opened her fishing box and pulled out a folded paper, which she unfolded and placed on the ground. 

“Bye, mister Matt Jackson-Birch.”

I stood there for a second as I watched her walk away.  I felt like asking if I could come to Pennsylvania, too.  It was obviously an absurd thought. 

After she had turned the corner, I walked over and picked up the paper.  I stared at it for a second.  It was my fishing license.  Somehow she had taken it from my tackle box. 

Actually, knowing me, I probably had forgotten it on the pier one day, and she had found it and used it to her advantage.  I had always known that she hadn’t guessed my name out of the blue, but now I knew how she had found out. 

I still didn’t know her name, though.

I stuffed the license back into my tackle box as I looked longingly at the corner she had disappeared around.  I was hoping it was another one of her tricks, but she didn’t come back.  She had not been kidding about leaving on her trip. 

After a minute, I sighed and walked slowly home, wondering if the hole in the pit of my stomach would go away before we left Montauk.

Forward to Chapter 2

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