Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
LYRIC
The sand is soft between my toes and the sun is shining.
A moment this perfect calls for a celebration.
I pluck a half-smoked joint from behind my ear, slip it between my lips, and fish a lighter out of my pocket.
I turn to face the ocean so I can appreciate the view of the sunshine glittering on the surface of the water, the steady waves rolling in towards the beach, and a pelican swooping low before diving into the water.
I drag in a lungful of smoke, take a seat on the large piece of driftwood directly behind me, and just soak it all in.
“Uh, Lyr, you tapping out or what?”
I glance over my shoulder at the chunks of wood that are currently scattered in a messy heap on the sand, waiting to be carefully built into the right shape for a bonfire.
Trick is the one who asked the question.
He’s carrying a cooler over from his golf cart, Easy right behind him doing the same, and Lux a few steps behind with a cooler on each shoulder.
“Namaste, man, it’ll get done,” I assure him, taking another long toke to finish off the joint.
Raven snorts and brushes some sand off of his bare legs. He’s traded his usual boots for black sandals today, which is probably a lot more practical for wading through the sand.
“End-of-off-season party starts in an hour,” Easy says, setting his cooler down next to Trick’s.
“A whole new summer ahead with hundreds of potential conquests.” Trick waggles his eyebrows, playfully shoving Easy’s shoulder.
“Hell yeah. It’s been a long winter, and I am in desperate need of a blowjob since everyone around here started pairing up,” Easy groans.
“Not everyone,” Trick says, and for some reason I get the feeling he’s talking about me.
“No way am I letting Raven suck my dick. He’d probably stop in the middle and tell me when I’m going to die,” Easy says.
“Today, if you try to put your dick in my mouth,” Raven replies with just enough affection in his tone to soften the threat.
They all laugh, and I’m glad no one actually dragged me into it.
I’d probably suck Easy’s dick if he really wanted.
I mean, he’s good looking enough and it’s just a blowjob.
But I don’t think it would be the most enthusiastic suck of his life.
Better if he waits until the ferry pulls into dock tomorrow and a hundred drunk, horny men spill off of it.
I tuck the spent joint into my pocket and pick up my guitar from where it’s propped against the driftwood.
I don’t know when everyone around here started getting so uptight about schedules.
The party will happen, the fire will get built, and a five- or ten-minute break won’t make a hell of a lot of difference in the grand scheme of things.
I stuff my lighter back into my pocket too and feel around to see if I have a pick handy.
Instead of a pick though, my fingers brush against something weird.
It feels like a card. I tug it out and turn it over.
It’s bigger than a card from a regular deck and it’s definitely not a six of hearts or anything.
It’s black, with an intricate gold design on one side, and on the other there’s some little kid on a hill with a bunch of gold cups.
“Hey, I’ve been looking all over for that,” Raven says, putting one hand on my shoulder and leaning over me from behind to pluck the card out of my hand.
“Did you voodoo magic it into my pocket or something?” I can’t think of any other reason it would be there. I stuff my hand back in, still in search of a pick, and finally find one deep down, stuck right in the corner.
He chuckles and slips it into his back pocket. “You probably took it when I pulled it for you, like, a month and a half ago at the shop. I’m concerned that your pants haven’t been washed in that long.”
I shrug and start to strum an upbeat tune that’s been lingering in my head for the past few days, desperate to take shape on my guitar strings.
“I wash them when they get funky. Anything more than that seems like overkill.” My fingers find the notes without any conscious direction from me, and I let my mind drift back to the day he must be talking about.
It was when Yuri showed up at the café. And, yeah, Raven’s right, I think I do remember taking the card now that he mentions it.
I can’t remember why, but I probably had a good reason at the time. “You said it was interesting.”
“The card?” He gives me a sly smile and sits down on the long piece of driftwood next to me. “It is an interesting one. The six of cups is about nostalgia and youthful innocence. It represents returning home.”
“I’m not planning to go anywhere.” My fingers dance along the strings a little quicker and a breeze blows a few strands of hair right into my face.
I shake my head to clear my vision, and while I’m doing that, I see Yuri coming down the road.
He’s barely a speck in the distance right now, but I’m sure it’s him.
A smile tugs at my lips immediately and I watch him for a minute.
Boston must be keeping him busy, because I haven’t seen him much in the last month.
I wonder if he ever figured out the underwear situation, if he got around to planting a small garden, and if he’s been avoiding me.
Why would he though? We had a damn good time when he stopped over.
“It’s not always literal,” Raven says, drawing my attention back to him.
“You could be dwelling in your past, or your past could be following you. So it could mean you’re going to have a second chance to correct a past mistake, it could be an old boyfriend wanting you back, or it could just mean you’re feeling a sense of longing for something in your past.”
Oh damn, that’s actually spot on. I laugh and nod again, slowing down the rhythm of the song and transitioning into a more relaxed melody.
“Cool, thanks.”
“Any time.” Raven pats me on the shoulder and stands back up.
I set my guitar aside and reach into my other pocket, pulling out a baggie of rolled joints and holding one out to him.
He takes it with a smile, then bends down to kiss me on the cheek, leaving a smear of sticky lipstick that I don’t bother to wipe off.
I just laugh again and get up to finish building the bonfire.
YURI
I wait until the sun has set and I can hear the party in full swing before I head down to the beach.
I’ve been on the island six weeks, and I’ve finally met pretty much everyone who lives here.
They’re all friendly and cool, even if a few of them came on a little strong.
Who invites someone they just met to an orgy?
Regardless, I still feel like a bit of an outsider, so the last thing I wanted to do was to be the dweeb who got to the beach party too early.
I walked by earlier when they were setting up, so I know where it is without having to follow the sound or double check the text I got from Boston telling me that it was in “turtle fuck cove.”
My stomach twists into nervous knots and the flickering glow of the bonfire lights up the horizon as I come over the small hill and see the beach below.
I’ve seen Lyric in passing since we hooked up, but I haven’t had the courage to stop at his place again or do more than wave when I see him walking by.
It was fun… More than fun. It was fucking amazing, and he was so chill about it after…
and I have absolutely no idea how I’m supposed to act now.
Does he want to hook up again? Was that a one-time nostalgia hump? Should I flirt? Should I pretend it didn’t happen? Ugh, I wish I was allowed to approach things like this the way I would in a work situation. I could have sent a follow-up email a few days later. Something like:
I found our meeting the other day both enjoyable and productive. I want to touch base about the nature of your interest in this project and whether you’re looking to collaborate again in the future.
Best,
Yuri
I huff a laugh at myself and stop right on the edge of the party, between a pair of tiki torches stuck in the sand, a few feet from all the revelry that’s already started.
The drinks are flowing, the smell of bonfire smoke and the sweet, fruity scent of Lyric’s signature weed is lingering in the air, and there’s music playing from a set of small speakers sitting in the sand.
Boston and Trick are holding a limbo stick, and a handful of people are gathered around laughing and cheering as Lux makes a valiant (and doomed) attempt to shimmy underneath it.
Angel and Devil sit by the bonfire, sharing a drink and whispering to each other, kind of a party of their own.
I catch them sneaking glances at Raven, who either hasn’t noticed or is trying desperately to pretend he hasn’t.
Hennessey, Pete, and Goose are making sandcastles in the dark.
There are a couple of unfamiliar faces too, drinking, dancing, generally enjoying the last night before tourists take over the island for the summer.
I save Cooper for last. He’s right where I would expect him to be—sitting in the sand near the bonfire, leaning against a piece of driftwood with his guitar in his lap.
Surprisingly, there isn’t a cloud of smoke circling his head, but he does have a joint behind his ear, so I’m sure it’s just a matter of time.
He looks up like he can feel my eyes on him, and a lazy, welcoming smile spreads across his lips.