Chapter 22 Playlist Boys Who Cry #2
Gregory lifts his eyes to the sky, like he’s sending up a prayer to someone. “What am I going to do with you?”
It’s a good question. I swing my arm back and snap it forward again, skidding my palm across the water. A perfect splash arcs across his torso. His eyes go wide, and I prop my hands on my hips. “Well? What are you gonna do now?”
I don’t even see the water coming. It hits me so suddenly, he must have moved faster than the speed of light.
I swipe my palm across my face, droplets hanging from my lashes. “Gregory McLoughlin!”
He’s just grinning at me without a trace of remorse.
I launch myself at him, and before I know it, we’re a tangle of limbs and laughter, splashing and slipping and climbing up each other’s body to gain the upper hand.
At one point I’m hanging off his back like a monkey, and at another he’s on his butt in the water, almost fully submerged, stunned only for a second before he’s back up and reaching for me.
When Gregory shrieks that something (seaweed, probably) brushed against his calf, he sprints back to the shore, his knees almost touching the sky. I make my way back to the beach, laughing so hard I can’t breathe.
“Do you love the ocean now?” I wheeze.
He glares at me. “No.”
At my pout, he relents. “Still need a shark tooth to seal the deal.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” I say with a laugh, and bend forward to wring out my hair. “My hair’s soaked.”
“Everything’s soaked,” Gregory says. “Did you plan this, Amelia Madden? Was this part of your grand plan to get me out of my bad mood? Because I gotta say, it worked. Absolutely brilliant.”
I give up on my hair and straighten, tossing it behind me. “A water fight wasn’t my initial plan, but I’m glad it worked out.”
Gregory doesn’t reply, and I realize he’s gone still beside me.
His dark hair is dripping, and a water droplet slides down his neck.
His gaze is fixed on me, his mouth slightly ajar.
It’s then that I realize my wet T-shirt—my white T-shirt—is basically transparent.
Yes, the daylight has mostly faded, but it’s still light enough.
Something seems to shift in the air between us, and I swallow thickly before I find it in myself to call him out.
“Gregory.”
“Yeah.”
“You still with me over there?”
“Sure.”
“Have you never seen boobs before? Lots of people have them.”
He gasps and his gaze shoots up to mine. “Oh my God. Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean, um—” He turns his back to me. “Sorry.”
I laugh, feeling weirdly flattered and not at all offended, because Gregory’s not being creepy and I know I’m safe with him. “Come on, my house isn’t far and we can get some dry clothes.” I loop my arm through his. “I don’t get a lot of guys checking me out. I didn’t mind it.”
He side-eyes me as we start walking. “I think you just don’t notice.”
I snort.
He slows, and I look over at him. This time his brown eyes are on my face. “You really don’t see yourself the way other people do, do you?” He says it gently, his voice thicker than usual.
I shrug away the shiver that runs through me, as if I’ve never really thought about it.
But in truth I think for a long time I didn’t want other people to see me at all.
I was fine blending in and observing from the sidelines.
But this summer it’s been kind of nice to be noticed.
To be seen for the person I am and not for who I’m friends with.
“Does anyone really know how other people see them?”
We resume a normal pace, still arm in arm. “I don’t know,” he admits. “I guess the only way to know for sure is to say it out loud.”
“So say it. How do you see me, Gregory McLoughlin?” I’m not sure there’s anyone else I’d feel comfortable asking that question.
It’s silent for so long, I ask, “Well?”
“I’m thinking, woman. Give me a minute.”
“Sorry,” I say. Then, “Wait—you’re not thinking about my boobs, are you?”
“No!” A pause. “I wasn’t, anyway.”
“Sorry. Carry on.”
We pass three houses before he finally answers.
“You’re someone who cares and likes hearing people’s stories.
” He says each word slowly, carefully, as if he’s considering each one.
“Your hair is brown but red, like the earth caught fire. The right song at the right time can completely change your outlook on life. You’d spend all day by the water if you could, and your freckles give away the days when you do.
You want to leave the earth better than you found it, and your fascination with sharks says that you believe that just because something is scary doesn’t mean it’s bad.
You love making people smile, and you make the best grilled cheese in the universe.
You don’t show your true self very often, but when you do, it’s like seeing a rainbow.
I think you’d take in every stray animal you came across if you could.
Stray people, too, which really worked out for me.
You’re fun to be around when I’m happy, but safe to be around when I’m sad.
And at the end of the day, you’re the kind of person I want on my side. ”
I barely register a couple ahead of us on the sand, and it’s not until Gregory tugs me into his side that I realize I was about to walk directly into them.
I’m so stunned, it’s like my muscles have turned into Silly Putty. I can’t take in a full breath, like my heart has expanded into all corners of my chest. I’m not entirely sure how I’m walking in a straight line.
“Too much?” Gregory asks, and I can’t tell if he’s honestly asking or trying to crack a joke to lighten the weight of everything he just said.
Because that’s exactly what he said. Everything.
I shake my head, because it wasn’t. I’m just… I’m awestruck. The person he described sounds pretty amazing, and how is it possible someone can see me like that when I’ve never even seen it myself? “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
“Well,” Gregory starts, all matter-of-fact, “everyone deserves someone who appreciates them for who they are.” He pauses, and I glance up at him. He keeps his eyes forward, and he says the next words into the wind. “I hope you never forget that.”