Chapter 66 - It had always been inappropriate to be happy

308 26 4
                                    

C A I T L Y N

We met on the beach at dawn. I was sitting on a bench, smoking my last cigarette, hoping it woke me up, when Ethan stepped off the bus, holding his brother's hand, a heavy-looking backpack on his shoulders, and his surfboards under his arm. Unlike myself, he didn't look tired at all.

When he saw me, he smiled, and said, "Good morning."

I threw out my cigarette, and said, "Morning."

Ronny waved at me, and I stretched my arms out in response. We had been together enough times over the winter break that I knew not to expect him to actually come running into my arms, but I liked to try anyway, even if just for the hopeful look on Ethan's face. Most days, Ronny would hide behind him, his arms clinging to his leg, face pressed against it, but not today.

Today, he let go of his hand and walked up to me, slowly, but surely, and then wrapped his arms around my waist, and hid his head on my shoulder. I hugged him back, smiling without realizing it, and remembering Sade at the daycare, how in my last day, she had given me a hug like this one, and whispered in my ear that I was her best friend in the whole entire world, only to then run off before I could say anything back. The whole thing had the awkwardness reserved for first times only, like the first-ever I love you, and I remembered wanting to say, me too, I love you too.

I got up with Ronny balanced on my hip, his arms around me, his curls tickling my neck, smelling of kids shampoo, and looked at Ethan, who was reaching for something in his backpack, and then handing it to me.

"Hot coffee," he said.

"For me?"

"No, for Ronny," he said with a face. "Of course it's for you."

"Oh," I took it from him, felt it warm against my cold hand, and smiled. "Thank you."

Ethan smiled back. He didn't care much for gestures of appreciation. I suspected he never really felt he deserved them. He was just doing what he wanted, and it turned out what he wanted was to be good. Ethan was good like I was bad. It came naturally to him. Like breathing. If I thought too much about it, even breathing was hard for me.

He looked around the parking lot. Richard was late. This had been my idea, not that he should be late, but that he should come in the first place.

A few days ago, Richard had invited me to stay for dinner after I went over to hang out with Tristan. I usually said no, because I couldn't stand Linda, or Richard when he was around her, but that night I said yes. My mother wouldn't be home until later that night, and there wasn't anything in the fridge back at home, and I wanted to spend as much time as I could with Tristan, even if I wouldn't admit it to anyone, because I wanted to convince them, as much as myself, that we had all the time in the world.

That night, I sat with them for dinner, and listened to Sam go on and on about how his school had taken everyone down to the beach to pick up trash and raise their pre-pubescent environmental awareness. Sam being Sam had loved spending hours under the sun, throwing his back out for the sake of the planet, but most of all, he had loved watching the surfers out on the water, riding waves bigger than themselves.

And I remembered, "I have a friend who gives surf lessons."

This was a lie, of course. Ethan didn't give surf lessons, but he could. He definitely could.

Richard had been smiling all of a sudden.

Linda had said, "Can you pass me the water?"

Tristan had done it, but not before emptying most of it into his own glass, a petty smile on his face. Linda had pretended not to notice, and instead got up to go to the kitchen and fill up the pitch again.

Growing PainsWhere stories live. Discover now