CHAPTER SEVEN #2
He paused, glancing back at the stall. Before I could ask what was wrong, he finished the last bite of his half-smoke, leaving a streak of mustard on his cheek. I wiped it without thinking, gliding my thumb over the soft stubble of his face.
‘Thank you,’ he said, and I turned before he could see me smile. That was definitely too forward of me, but it felt strangely reflexive. I liked how easy things felt with him, even if I’d known him less than a day. Still, I needed to pivot. ‘So … is this your first time in South Beach?’
‘It’s been a while. My pop taught me to surf here, and it’s where I met my best friend. But that was, what, eleven years ago?’
I raised a skeptical brow. ‘Your best friend is from South Alta?’
Cas chuckled. ‘Yeah, he is. I forgot how being here made me feel.’
I tensed, unsure I wanted him to finish that thought. This place was nothing like the glassways, nothing like Northend or Crestview. No one had gold-rimmed eyes from oculsight, and half the surfers bore sun scars from overexposure.
The corner of his mouth quirked. ‘It was the only time I didn’t stand out in the crowd.’
I glanced at his designer clothes.
He nudged my shoulder. ‘You know what I mean. I’m used to it now, but at galas and events, everyone’s mostly white. But growing up – kids are mean. There were these girls who’d always run up to me on the first day of school after summer break to compare their tans to mine.’
I recoiled, my stomach boiling. Gross. ‘I would’ve gotten suspended for fighting if someone had tried that with me. Not the best example for my little sister, but my dad would’ve been proud. Leo would’ve joined in.’
Cas chuckled. ‘My grandfather would’ve been pissed if I’d done anything that risked our name. My mom too. My pop did teach me his one-two …’ He slowed, his attention pulling away.
Further down the boardwalk, a small group in shirts patterned with neon constellations were holding clipboards, asking for signatures. Their shouts followed us as we passed.
‘You’ve noticed the brighter sunsets. That’s the first step.
Next, our communication systems will fail.
Satellites will fall from the sky. There’ll be another solar flare soon, and this time the consequences will be more than just a single disease.
Sign our petition. We need to reach the masses. President St James must pay attention.’
Cas pulled down his cap, putting distance between us and the protestors.
‘I wonder how many people actually believe all that?’ he said.
‘A solar flare piercing the atmosphere was unprecedented. How can they be so sure there’ll be a second?
And on the anniversary of the last big one, no less.
The sun flares every day. We have the lightning grid reinforcing the ozone after the first one. ’
I shrugged, keeping my eyes on the officers breaking up the crowd. They moved with hands hooked into the shoulder straps of their bulletproof vests.
‘We need to evacuate Alta Bay! In six weeks, we’ll be directly in the sun’s magnetic path, just like we were a hundred and fifty years ago!’ one of the petitioners shouted. ‘The President needs to act now!’
The quiet murmurs of protest turned into yelling, and in one swift motion, the group’s leader had their hands pulled behind their back and cuffed.
I winced. They might’ve been loud, but not louder than the group advertising a new beachfront night club while blasting g-funk.
A hush fell over the boardwalk as officers escorted the leader toward a patrol car.
The other petitioners followed, phones out, most likely livestreaming everything.
‘Are you OK?’
I jumped at Cas’s voice. I’d stopped walking, and he was a few feet ahead of me. He nodded toward the patrol car disappearing through the boardwalk’s street entrance. ‘He’ll probably get a fine and be back out –’
I didn’t hear the rest of what he said. A familiar face had slid into view over his shoulder.
In fact, two of Leo’s friends were heading straight down the boardwalk toward us. I glanced between them and Cas, then back at myself and Cas. Without thinking, I darted behind the nearest funnel cake stand and tugged him with me.
‘Who are we hiding from? An ex?’
I gagged. ‘No. That’s Keem and Mason. My brother’s friends.’
‘Your brother’s friends,’ he repeated, processing. ‘Oh, you’re hiding me!’
I swatted his arm. ‘I don’t need them running their mouths to Leo that I’m out with someone like –’ I gestured at him. His sneakers probably cost twice our monthly mortgage payment.
‘Someone who drives a campervan?’ he asked innocently.
I hit him a little harder. Why was his thinking face so cute?
‘You know well and good what I mean.’ They were getting closer. ‘I don’t think Leo would approve of me dating someone so far removed from South Alta. No offense.’
‘The only offense taken is me not knowing this was a date.’
I blushed hard, ready to protest, but Cas pressed a finger to my lips as Keem and Mason stopped nearby. He leaned in, stealing my attention with a playful look, his touch keeping me quiet. Our breathing synched, his mouth so close to mine.
Keem and Mason’s voices faded, and Cas lowered his hand, his eyes focused on my lips, my gaze focused on his.
One gust of wind and I’d discover exactly what it felt like to have his lips brush mine.
Part of me rooted for the wind, curiosity stroking my thoughts, while the other part snapped out of it just as he pressed forward.
Kissing him would be nice, I admitted to myself. But anything long term between Cas and me wouldn’t work. We were too different. At least that was the excuse I kept repeating while ignoring how good it felt to be with him.
My heart pounded, my bruised ribs aching from the pressure. ‘They’re gone.’
A subtle flash of dejection crossed his features. ‘You must be a master at hide-and-seek.’
‘Number-one champion three summers in a row.’ I wiped my sweaty palms on my overalls and cursed myself for letting him get that close. This was supposed to be an apology meal. Technically, we were done.
‘I realize we barely know each other – aside from spilling our deepest insecurities yesterday – but would it really be that bad for us to date?’ he asked. ‘With your family, I mean.’
I pictured Daddy interrogating Cas about his views, that flyer clenched in his hand. What do you think of Moorehouse for mayor? Would you agree Pain Givers are entitled? How do you feel about socialism? It’d be catastrophic.
‘Does your mom know where you are?’ I countered.
‘That’s fair.’ He rocked back, his hands in his pockets, and jutted his chin toward the pier. ‘Why don’t we do a trial run? See what a date could be like. For fun.’
I stumbled over my words. ‘A fake date? For fun?’
‘My sister’s favorite rom-com setup.’
‘The kind with the most unrealistic storylines?’
‘I promised you an hour with no stress. We have thirty minutes left. Let the guy who hit you with his car apologize properly by spoiling you. I have a feeling you’re worth it.’
I kinda liked the way he worded that – spoiling me because I’m worth it.
It didn’t feel like a pickup line. He was genuine.
He watched me carefully, like he was bracing for my answer.
Every part of me wanted to scream yes. I could take this moment for myself.
Skye was in school. No one needed me for a while.
My expression must’ve given me away, because Cas took my hand and pulled me toward the rides. This would be fun. Just fun.
‘No ferris wheels,’ I warned.
He stopped and saluted. ‘Scout’s honor.’
‘I have a hard time picturing you as a Boy Scout.’
‘But you’re picturing me, right? So the fake date is working.’
I rolled my eyes as we waded into the sea of glittering lights, sizzling sparklers, and the smell of fried cookie sandwiches and barbecued brisket on sticks.
We skipped most of the rides and settled on the carnival games: ring toss, Plinko, and my personal favorite, clown-tooth knockout with Super Soakers.
I won him an oversized bear while he managed a consolation prize for me: a bright orange blowfish plush.
I gave him pointers for the next game, showing him how to throw the ball into the barrel so it wouldn’t ricochet out.
He still failed, but was all smiles, before dragging me over to the slingshot – my bruised ribs forgotten by both of us.
I kept my eyes closed for the entire ride while the wind whipped past, and I might’ve screamed.
He slipped his hand into mine, and I didn’t let go.
The wall I’d meant to keep between us slowly crumbled.
He knew what he was doing by making me unwind.
I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this …
good (aching torso aside). I soaked up every second.
So much weighed me down. Here, I felt lighter – spoiled, like he’d said. But it had to be temporary. I didn’t have time to date when I already knew it wouldn’t work long term. I didn’t have time for heartbreak. And I still didn’t know his last name.
‘I should head back. Skye will be home soon, and she’s going to want to show off her latest A.
’ Stepping off the ride, I pointed to the glassrail station.
I could tell he wanted to argue about driving me home, but he didn’t push.
Which was good, because I didn’t need Daddy seeing me arrive in a car that could drive itself – never mind the (cute) boy.
‘How about a strawberry-swirl milkshake to go, and then I’ll walk you to the stop?’
Happy to extend the fake date by a few minutes, I let him lead the way to the shake stand. When he opened his wallet app to pay, I caught a glimpse of a black credit card before he pulled up his debit on his holoscreen. He kept his thumb blocking his name.
‘This one’s linked to my surf winnings. I try not to use the family card,’ he said, anticipating my reaction.