Crashing Into Blue

Chapter 10

Patrick and Jasmine excuse themselves shortly after Samson's revelation, but not before they drag us into hanging out tomorrow.

"C'mon," Jasmine says to Patrick, while pulling on his arm, "who better to show us around town than two people who have lived here all their lives?"

Patrick looks irritated as he responds to her.

"Well, I could do it for starters; I have been coming here every summer since I was fourteen." It comes off as snarky, but he tries to recover quickly, blanketing it with kinder words. "And I bet that Delia and Samson are both busy working, they probably don't have the time."

"I'm off the cotton candy chain at four tomorrow, how about you Lia?" asks Samson. His arm is still around my shoulder, and I've come to put my arm around his waist. I never noticed how we were a good height for each other, but I find myself fitting comfortably into Samson. I can't help but notice that Patrick and Jasmine are keeping a respectable distance between them, fingertips barely touching. When did they let go?

"I finish at the gift shop at five," I say to the group.

"Oh, you work at the gift shop, that's perfect!" says Jasmine. "You can help me pick out some gifts to bring back for my friends."

Patrick finally looks over to me, eyes searching. "You don't work at Chippy's anymore?"

I shake my head, and I say the first thing that pops into my mind. "Things change." That cuts off our eye contact just as quickly as it started.

Before a silence can settle over our small huddle, Samson speaks to Jasmine. "There's this little dolphin statue made of seashells at Sea Breeze, I highly suggest you check it out." I pinch his side while he tries to keep a straight face.

"That sounds adorable! I'll swing by the gift shop to check it out tomorrow, and then we can grab some dinner and hang out afterwards. I also saw that there are some carnival games set up along the boardwalk most nights, we should totally check it out."

Patrick blushes at the thought, most likely thinking about all his past carnival game failures. A grin spreads across Samson's face

"Jasmine, I couldn't have planned something better myself," says Samson.

"It's a date, then!" proclaims Jasmine, as she and Patrick start to walk away from us.

Yes, I think to myself, a date for the books.

When Patrick and Jasmine are out view and ear shot, I disentangle myself from Samson.

"I thought you said I was concussed for going along with this plan, and now you just inserted yourself right into the thick of it. What changed? And how long were you standing there before you said anything?"

He shrugs off the questions, and pushes his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. He looks over to where the sea meets the sand, where footprints are being washed away into nothingness.

"I was there long enough. I didn't like how he was blowing you off, making you seem just barely more than an acquaintance. You guys had something, even if he doesn't want to admit it."

I bump my hip into his.

"Well, thank you."

"Don't thank me yet Lia, odds are this is going to end up in flames; you sure you still want to go forward with this?"

 I look out at the darkness before us. It looks like it could swallow us whole, barely emitting a whisper in the process. I think I want to go out making a bit more noise than that.

I feel myself nodding. "Yes, I'm sure."

I hear Samson blow out a breath.

"Then, let's get some kerosene and dowse this son of a bitch. Let's make him feel it."