This first week at the beach house went smoothly. Everyone sort of formed their own routines. The guys wake up super every morning to surf and us girls sleep in. Now we're settling around the kitchen island eating pancakes.
Out of nowhere Ariana says. "Let's talk about Romeo."
I try hard to push the thought of her and Romeo's growing friendship out of my mind. I don't know what was more surprising. The fact that Ariana of all people, the girl who teased Romeo the entirety of the time she's known him, is showing interest in him, or the fact that Romeo is showing interest back.
"What's there to talk about?" Ira asks, completely unbothered.
"Your brother is fine as fuck. Respectfully." Ariana bites her bottom lip, which annoys me very much.
Ira visibly cringes and looks at me. I can only shrug. Even though I don't like Ari talking about Romeo that way, I can't disagree with her. The quirky and awkward guy I know is definitely still in there, no doubt, but he's somehow grown up on me.
"Please, never say those words to me again." Ira says, her voice flat.
"Okay, but would you be mad if I went after him?" Ariana presses.
"I'm done with this conversation." She takes her coffee and goes out onto the patio, leaving me behind.
I'm compelled to follow her, but Ariana keeps talking. She asks, "You see what I see right?"
"No." I lie.
"Did you see how turned on he got when I touched him by the pool?"
How could I forget? That little pool scene has been replaying in my mind ever since.
"It was so cute," she adds, laughing. "He even had a boner."
It's my turn to cringe. Having heard enough, I stuff the last bite of my toast into my mouth and grab my coffee, heading outside with Ira. The morning sun is already warming the patio, casting a golden glow over the backyard. This is my favorite time of day. Some of the best memories I have are of me and my brother, while the rest of the world is asleep.
The ocean's rhythmic waves crash gently in the distance, but even the calming sound can't shake the unease I feel.
Thinking about Romeo like that feels wrong. He's only a year younger than us, but I guess I've always seen him as someone I needed to protect. And not because of his autism.
He spent most of his time alone by the sea, reading books… or watching spiderman. He just has this innocent aura about him. The idea of him having sex and talking about fuck buddies is a huge shock.
I groan as Ariana follows me outside, saying, "Come on, you'd have to be blind not to be attracted to him."
"Ariana, please. I'm trying to keep my food down." I reply, feeling my stomach turn with every word that falls from her lips.
I just spent the entire week trying to push thoughts of shirtless Romeo out of my head, and here she goes, undoing all my hard work. Even if my view of him have changed, he's still Romeo. I would never in a million years go after him.
Sure, he's tall and handsome, has an amazing body, and so clearly knows how to have a good time. But he's also really sweet, kind, talented, and crazy smart to the point where I can always count on him to answer any question I have. He's any good girl's dream. He deserves better than me—or Ariana. Or anyone I know.
The thought of Romeo giving Ariana a chance annoys me more than anything because she wouldn't care in the slightest that Romeo is most handsome when he's talking about random marine facts that normal people would have to spend hours researching to understand and still come up short.
"I'm gonna ask him out." Ariana tells Ira. "And I was hoping that maybe I'll have your blessing."
I look at Ira, telling her with my eyes to shut this down instantly. She rolls her eyes and says to Ari, "I'm his sister, not his mother. Do whatever you want, I don't care."
Ariana squeals happily before running inside. I pin Ira with a glare. She's about to take a sip of her coffee but pauses when she sees my face.
"What?"
"You realize you just sent Ariana after Romeo?"
"So?"
"So?!" I panic.
"Relax, you know Ro would never go for Ariana."
I think about everything that happened in the past few hours. From his new attire to the revelation of his fuck buddy. "I'm not so sure."
She thinks about it, finding this whole thing amusing. "Well, on the bright side he won't be a virgin when he goes off to college."
I huff before hopping up on the porch rail. She's unbelievable.
I rest my head against the wood and close my eyes as the warm morning sun kisses my face. The scent of the saltwater fills the air, mingling with the faint aroma of morning coffee. Birds call out, their songs mixing with the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore.
I used to sit on this very porch and wait for Will and my dad as they returned with a fresh basket of mangoes. We'd sit on the step and eat until our stomachs ached. Mom would then take it up with dad that he allowed us to eat so many.
I smile, but the happy memory turns sour at the reminder of all of that being lost.
I love the beach house, but it agonizes to think about how the place, which was once home to me, will never be the same again. Too much has happened. There're people here who shouldn't be, and people who aren't here who should be. I think maybe that's why I don't want Romeo to get involved with Ariana. I'm afraid that he might change. I just want one constant in my life.
"Did you call your mom?" Ira asks, breaking the silence.
I open my eyes, squinting against the bright sunlight, and turn my head to face Ira who's already been studying my face. The prior warmth I felt now contrasts sharply with the chill her question brings.
"Yes," I respond, my voice flat.
"How is she?"
"A mess." I laugh, one that's hollow and forced. "But I think she's going to be okay. She has Nat."
Ira nods, thoughtfully, but then a look of uncertainty crosses her face. I know this look. It's the, 'I have something to say but I don't know how you'll react' look. I usually hate whatever comes out of her mouth after.
She proceeds with caution. "Did you call your father?"
There it is. I tense up, feeling the familiar knot in my stomach.
"No."
"You have to call him." She says, gently.
"Why would I do that?"
"He's the only one who knows what you're going through, Briar. Not your mom, and not me."
"Sure you do. You both knew and loved Will."
"Very much." She sets her coffee down. "But we weren't the ones in the car with him that night."
My heart races, like it always does whenever the topic of that night comes up. The sound of screeching tires, the smell of burning rubber, and the sight of blood flashes through my mind. I have to fight from closing my eyes to shut out the images.
"Are you done?" I snap.
"I just know that Will wouldn't want this," She pushes.
I huff before hopping off the rail, not wanting to hear her tell me how disappointed Will would be. The porch now feels too confining, too stifling with all these memories and emotions resurfacing when I'm not ready to face them.
"Briar, where are you going?"
"Where does it look like I'm going?"
I pull my T-shirt over my head revealing my bikini top, and toss the shirt aside. Without hesitation, she joins me, wrapping her arm around my shoulders and giving me an 'I'm sorry kiss' on my cheek.
This is one of the things I love about Ira. Her presence is comforting, even when her words aren't.
"You guys!" Ariana calls from the porch, her voice cutting through the tension, "Wait for me."
Ira and I laugh, the heaviness falling away with the sound. We burst into a full sprint down the steps that lead to the beach. The world blurs around us as we run, kicking up sand with each step.
"Bitch!" Ariana shouts and chases after us.
Seconds later, I feel the sand beneath my toes, hot and scorching. The sensation is grounding and it pulls me back to the present.
"Shit, it's hot." Ira winces, hopping from foot to foot.
I laugh, the sound more genuine this time, and let the warmth of the sun and the cool breeze from the waves wash away any tension. I welcome. The sea stretches out endlessly before us, the waves crashing against the shore rhythmically, calling out to us as if asking, can I have this dance?
We oblige, reaching the water's edge. The cool waves lapping at our feet, soothing the burn from the sand. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, the salty air filling my lungs, grateful for the moment of escape from the crippling feeling of hopelessness that takes over whenever memories of that night resurface.
Ariana catches us to us, splashing water on her way in, slightly out of breath but grinning widely. "I fucking hate you both," she pants.
"I think someone needs a hug." Ira says, glancing at me with a mischievous glint in her eye.
"I think so too," I agree, matching her playful tone.
At the same time, we capture Ariana in a tight hug, the three of us laughing as we sway back and forth in the cool waves. She pretends to protest but then wraps her arms around us, squeezing tightly.
There was a time when Ariana used to feel left out. Since primary school, Ira and I have been best friends. But when Ari came along about four years ago in secondary school, and we sort of became a group of three. Initially, Ira and I, so used to being a duo, didn't think to include Ariana. But now, we wouldn't have it any other way.
The only time Ira and I do something without Ariana is when we come to the beach house for summer. And it's not because we don't want her here—we beg her to come all the time, but she always makes up some excuse. I think it's because she thinks spending the summer with parents is lame.
The three of us are very similar, until we're not. We're all super nice, until we're not. None of us have active father figures in our lives. We're all on the track team, which means we can be super competitive. Our differences, though, lie not in the things we do but in our personalities.
I like to think that Ira's sunshine and I'm midnight rain. But Ariana? She's like a turbulent storm—aggressive and contentious. Unpredictable and perilous. And if you're lucky enough to fascinate her... if she's set her sights on you... you better be prepared for the full-on, knock-down, drag-out experience that awaits.
I love her, but I can't stand by and let her do that to Romeo. And definitely not before he leaves to sail across the world by himself.
I spot him on the beach at the same time his name crosses my mind. He's lying on his back on the sand reading a novel. Shirtless. It's not an erotic sight, it's not a 'he's so hot, I want to sleep with him' type of scene. It's like seeing art in a museum. Captivating and enchanting in every way. And the most charming part? He doesn't know it in the slightest.
It's exactly that quality which makes him easy prey to girls like Ariana—girls like me. What makes this different is that I know him, it's personal. Ariana doesn't care but I know his heart, and what I wouldn't do to hurt him. A heart that pure needs to be protected. And who better to protect him than the huntress who knows both the predator as well as the prey?
"I'll be right back," I say to Ira and Ariana.
Ignoring their protests, I rush out of the sea and onto the beach. I sneak up behind Romeo and pull his backpack from under his head. He groans as his head hits the sand before and turning onto his stomach and dusts the sand from his hair.
He smiles awkwardly and says, "Hi."
"Hey."
"Good morning."
I laugh, "Good morning."
He looks down at his book, then back at me, nervous for some reason.
"What is it?" I ask.
"Nothing."
"What are you reading?"
He looks at the cover as if he wasn't already reading it, which makes me laugh some more. He's still a dork, that much hasn't changed.
I take the book from his hands and read aloud, "Alone With You In the Ether."
"I knew that." He admits.
"Could've fooled me." I tease as I run my fingers along the cover, admiring the simplicity of it. It's plain grey with a single, black, square outline a margin from the edges. Plain, but still very pretty.
"I've read it three times already this year. The writing is fascinating."
I open a tabbed page and read the highlighted quote, "I could study you for a lifetime, carrying all your peculiarities and discretions in the webs of my spidery palms—"
"—and still come up empty handed," he finishes.
I don't know what to say.
"I know." He says, dreamily. "To be able to express a feeling so strong into words like that, is nothing short of amazing."
The look of longing on his face makes me think about his 'fuck buddy'. I come to the conclusion that it was all her idea. There's no way that Romeo could read books about love, have the words resonate with him so deeply, and somehow settle for meaningless sex with someone he doesn't have feelings for. He had to have wanted something more, but it was all that she could give.
"Have you ever felt that way for someone?" I ask, fishing for the truth.
He smiles. "Yes."
I knew it. I should've known better that to fall for that fuck boy act.
"Maybe you should call her," I tell him.
He snaps out of his daze, "Call who?"
"I'm not Aki, alright? You don't have to pretend with me."
He looks at me like I've grown a third eye. I add, "Call her. Invite her here and tell her how you feel. You can't settle for meaningless sex. Wasted potential aside, that would make you the biggest fraud!"
"Me? A fraud?" The shocked expression on his face makes me want to laugh but I try my hardest to hold it in. He has to know that I'm serious.
"Yes! How can you sit here and read a book as romantic as this but tell me you have a fuck buddy?"
"I—"
"Call her."
"Okay."
I watch, waiting encouragingly as he pulls out his phone. At the same time, I notice the Stanford U sweatshirt peeking through Romeo's backpack. The faded maroon and gold letters make my heart ache.
Will must've given it to him. They had a really special bond. I'm pretty sure Romeo's love of the ocean came from my brother. Romeo was pretty home sick when he first arrived from New York. And I'm not sure if it was my brother's idea or if my mom insisted, but my brother began dragging Romeo out to the shore every morning to surf.
As they became closer, my dad started taking Romeo along on his sailboat every morning until Will was old enough to command the sail himself. Will was a swimmer; sailing was just a hobby. But Romeo became fond of sailing, fond of Will. He looked up to him, and Will loved him like a brother. Will taught him everything he knows about sailing.
Eventually, Romeo surpassed him.
I didn't know Romeo was interested in going to Standford U, but the idea that my brother influenced his decision isn't a crazy one. A wave of sadness creeps in on me.
My brother was my knight. He was always saving me from myself, my tendency to do wild shit. He was always getting caught in the line of fire, defending me. Now the only thing I have to pull me out the deep end is the faint memory of his voice on my conscience telling me to turn around and stay in the shallow.
I inhale a steadying breath through my nose as a party boat, not too far out in the ocean, catches my attention. The sun shines off its white hull, and the distant base of the music grows louder with every beat. I turn to Romeo, "You see that yacht over there?"
He follows my gaze, squinting against the sunlight reflecting off the water.
I stand, announcing, "I'm gonna swim to it."
"Yeah, right," he says, doubting me with a laugh.
I smile at him. "Say I won't."
The amusement leaves his face, replaced by shock. He gets to his feet, but I'm already running towards the water. The sand a little warmer now beneath my feet.
"Briar, wait!" he calls after me, but his voice is lost in the roar of the waves.
I swim past a confused Ira and Ariana, sights set on the yacht bobbling in the distance. The salty taste of the sea fills my mouth.
I hear Ira ask, "Where're...going?" Her words being drowned out every time water covers my ears.
Romeo responds to them, but I don't catch what he says. And soon, I'm too far out to hear anything at all except the growing sounds of the music coming from the boat. The water is crystal clear, revealing flashes of fish darting beneath me. The sun beats down my back and I feel the weight of unwanted emotions starting to lift once more.