AVALON

Chapter 57 - sssssic 'em

A/N - hey guys sorry about the wait and my crap drawing skills lol.

"Bloody hell!" Seth tries to unclamp my arms from around his shoulders and neck. "Who's the freaken octopus here?"

"I don't like it out the deep," I squirm on his back glued on like a monkey mutated with Blu-tak and duct tape. Dad would just love that description... and the fact I'm on a boys back and not a horses.

Not.

And a city boy, oh the scandal.

He'd be wishing he overruled Angus's call of not letting Nathan come with me for sure.

"Av," he scoffs sliding us off the board. "Even you could stand up here. We aren't even out past the white water."

I watch carefully as he places his feet down solidly on to the sand scouting for any large shadows before I let loose of my monkey hold.

The water is beautifully refreshing and I hold on to Seth's arm while I duck under loving the delicious feeling of the coolness infiltrating my hair. Salt water is just so nice compared to dam water. It feels different.

It feels floaty. I like the white water bubbles.

"See? Nice isn't it?" Sam asks just before he pushes me back under with a his meaty hand. I would make him pay but I'm out of my element here and not going to let Seth go under any circumstance.

"Get on," Seth chuckles pulling me toward him.

"Not like before, I'm not," I stare up at him with narrowed eyes. Total perve popped me lying on the board and then jumped on behind me so that his face was only inches from my butt. Needless to say I wriggled out of that position into my mutant monkey one in under point two of a second.

I had a laugh though thinking of how I actually wished for something I never thought I would. We have this one guy that works for us most dry seasons, his real name is Graham - I think- but everyone calls him 'Petal'. He must have something hell wrong living within his stomach cause what he produces is definitely of an alien origin. He could conquer the world if he bothered to put his tool of torture to use.

When everyone jacks up about him he goes, "What? You guys's noses are RS. That is the smell of delicate petals wafting in the sunshine."

Nathan and I discovered old WWII masks in our great grandfathers stuff. We hold crazy dancing competitions to see who win there use when bunking or workin' with Petals. One bloke actually did ballet once... we all just stopped playing music and stared at him.

Then Nathan tried to copy him and pulled his hamstring.

Those dance comps have become like a yearly thing now, even Daryl competes (after he signs an agreement not to serve beans). Anyway, it would've been kinda humorous - in a boy way - if I could've pulled one of his methane murders at that opportune time. Seth would have been seriously demented after that and maybe that would totally stuff up his secret secretions.

"I wasn't looking at your butt." Seth shakes his head. "The glare from your reflective white skin would've blinded me and by the way? That's just how you do it."

"Yeah," I bestow on him the old sideways look heralding my disbelief. This is Seth we are talking about.

Finally we get to where they are happy with me still applied to Seth's back. He sits up in the board, legs spread either side, so I have to kneel behind him peering around me for giant shark fins or radioactive sized squids or whatever else I've seen on the underwater horror movies Dell puts on when she makes buttery popcorn and snuggles up to Angus like a giant shark is gonna swim right in to our lounge room and gobble her up.