“What’s Max doing?”
“He has a new audience.” I glanced backward. “He’s talking their ears off.” I turned to watch some more and couldn’t help giggling. “Lord knows what family secrets he’s sharing with them.”
“We don’t have any family secrets.”
“Whatever he’s telling them comes with exaggerated arm movements and wild facial expressions.” Thanks to what Dad called my bionic eyesight, I could clearly see the guys’ faces. They were entertained. I concentrated to hear Max, but the noise on the beach increased and interfered.
Cole was the one talking to Max while the others listened and laughed. Although I couldn’t hear much, I was laughing too. The big guy returned to the group. He watched Max, and then scanned the beach until we locked eyes. I turned away before he summoned me over to bow and thank him.
“I’m bored,” Gabe said. “Let’s go over with Max.”
“I’m comfortable.” Or at least more comfortable than I would be over there. I finger-combed some semblance of order to my mass of red hair as my eyes scanned each of them again. The big one was looking at me still.
“Let’s go swimming, Tess.”
“Let’s not. I don’t want Max back in the water.”
“Wanna get a soda?”
“No,” I said, picking up my book.
Gabe wandered away in a huff over to Max. I resumed reading and relaxing for what felt like a nanosecond when Gabe and Max returned and tried to pull me to my feet.
“We challenged the winners to a volleyball game. Their game is almost over.”
“I’ll watch from here.”
“If you don’t play with us, I’ll tell Jon you weren’t watching Max.” Gabe stuck out his tongue.
“Brat,” I said and stuck my tongue out back at him.
“Yup,” Gabe answered victoriously.
Relaxing would have to wait.
Chapter 3
Gabe, Max and I were on one team. It was the three of us against three kids around 10 or 11, about Gabe’s age. The hardest part of the game was to set shots for Max so he felt like he was playing. We easily won the first game, lost the second on purpose and won the third. I made sure the score wasn’t too lopsided. No reason to crush them. My mother encouraged me to be a polite competitor and not show off.
After volleyball, the three of us spent a while in the water cooling off – my brothers insisted on going back in. Jon was gone for close to two hours. Maybe he needed a break from us, too. When he finally returned, I was relieved to see him. It was tense watching Gabe and Max swim.
“My turn to relax,” I said and shoved my brothers toward Jon. Then I hurried back to our blanket to snag some money from my shorts.
“Anything I need to know?” Jon asked, once he caught up to me.
“The current is strong. Don’t take your eyes off Max. I’m going to see if they have ice cream at the concession stand.”
He nodded.
I dried off, draped my towel over my shoulders and headed straight to the ‘Snack Shack.’ An ice cream would be a melted mess in a few minutes, but it sounded tasty. The girl behind the counter was very slow. She seemed to make mistakes on every order. The long wait was bad enough, but the person behind me stood so close I could hear him breathe. He must have had allergies, because he kept sniffing; although, the noise reminded me more of a curious puppy than someone with a cold or allergies. Maybe my hair smelled like Jon’s cinnamon gum. Welcome to my new home, I thought, where the local people sniff you.
Then it was my turn in line.
My mouth watered as I watched the snack bar girl carefully weave the cone under the soft serve ice cream machine. It was melting as she handed it to me. I took a bite while she counted my change—incorrectly—twice. The third time I took the bills from the counter as she counted them and told her to keep the rest of the change. It took more effort than I care to admit to be polite, but I was. I am always polite.
With my eyes focused on my already dripping chocolate cone, I turned quickly and smashed right into this boy...man...body…behind me, smooshing my ice cream into his chest. Obviously, he hadn't ever heard of personal space. When I looked up, I recognized him as the older, bigger guy who pulled Max out of the water. I softened my hostile sneer. He offered a wide smile and stepped out of line. I followed as if I was magically tethered to him.
“I am so sorry. And you lost your place in line,” I said when really I was thinking, why were you standing so close and maybe you should carry a tissue for your runny nose. Then, as if I was his mother, I took my towel and wiped the chocolate mess off his well-developed tan chest. My face became red and my stomach twisted when I noticed he was enjoying it entirely too much. Why didn’t I just hand him the towel? I took a deep breath. “I didn’t see you there.”
Just as I finished wiping his chest clean, my cone dripped on to his shorts. I reached down instinctively to wipe the new spill when I realized how inappropriate that would be. The blush of embarrassment reached my finger tips.
“Here,” I said barely audible. “You should probably get the rest.” I handed him my towel while my eyes looked at my feet.
“You're doing fine. Go ahead and finish.” I heard the chuckle in his voice, but noticed he was serious and unmannerly. I tossed him my towel. Did I look as awkward as I felt?
“How's your little brother?” he asked, wiping off his shorts.
“He's good. Thanks for pulling him out.” I reached out for my towel, but he pretended not to be done. I wanted to say something but didn’t know what else to say. I wished I was Alex Russo on Wizards of Waverly Place. She always knew what to say, and she was funny. Instead of embarrassing myself by saying something stupid, I kept quiet.
He looked like the others, only bigger. His thick hair was long and shaggy, fitting his rugged face. It wasn’t brown or blonde; it was really both colors. His black Ray-Ban sunglasses blocked the color of his eyes, but I remembered them as being light. He was a full head taller than me, and his body looked like he was older…maybe eighteen. Why was I staring at his body?
“The tide can take you out pretty quickly here. Have you been in far enough to notice?”
“Um…no.”
I thought he would say something else or hand my towel back. He did neither. He just stared and sniffed.
“You're staring...it’s sort of rude,” I said.
“Yes, I am,” he said unapologetically.
I started to walk back to Jon and my brothers – abandoning my towel, collateral damage in the social disaster the conversation had become – but he blocked my path.
“Now you’re being immensely rude.”
“You're new around here, aren't you?”
“Yes, we just moved in,” I answered, moving my cone toward my mouth since I was still struggling with simple conversation.
“Where from?”
Where from? Now there's some grammar to be proud of. My smug thought was rewarded when the melted ice cream from my cone dripped all over the front of my tank top.
“Need some help?” He laughed tossing my towel to me with a bit too much force. The slight impact of the towel knocked my unsteady ice cream from its cone. I stood mortified as it splattered on his foot.
Unbelievable. I apologized and handed my towel back to him.
“Are you