Don't Ask, Don't Tell

Chapter 11

Samuel was supposed to be born by the ocean, no doubt about it. The tall, roaring waves called at him like sirens. He and Rivers stood by the edge of the cliff, looking down at the secluded strip of shore in Black Beach. On the shore, only a handful of people enjoyed a stroll or waxed their colorful boards in the peace and quiet of the early morning. The breeze was heavy with salt and stuck to Samuel's cheeks in a pleasant warm film. Californian sunrises were pretty, but they had nothing on the twilight hour in the desert.

Rivers's hand hit hit stomach, dragging him back.

"Let's go!" An elated smirk embellished his face.

They descended the sandy trail that took to the beach where Rivers dropped his rucksack a few feet from the lapping waves. The Pacific was an infinite canvas of glimmering blue and foamy white.

Samuel let go of his backpack. "This place is neat."

"Yeah... It took me a while to find it, but now it's my safe haven." Rivers' longing eyes lost themselves in the horizon and the explosion of pink mirrored in his chocolate pools. He pulled a ripped Full Metal Jacket t-shirt over his head and folded it into a neat square.

But Samuel's focus was on something way more interesting.

A compass star covered Rivers' left pec. It camouflaged into the starlit sky continuing from his shoulder, fading into the rocky sea on his perfectly sculpted stomach where a sail ship traded the waves.

Samuel wet his lips. "Nice ink."

Rivers glanced at his torso as if checking for a spill of mayo. "Oh, thanks."

"Does it mean something?"

"They all mean something." Rivers gave him that warm smile that was becoming more common on his face. With that adorable dimple under his eye...

"Yeah?" Samuel pulled off his sweater, tugging at the cotton more than necessary.

"Yeah. But this one on my chest, uh... My folks have this sailboat out in Boston Harbor," – he crouched on the sand, sliding his t-shirt inside his rucksack with care – "They used to take me and Camille sailing every chance they got. One summer we spent a whole month cruising along the East Coast just the four of us."

That sounded so healthy.

"You're a tight family?"

And there was that half-smirk-half-childish grin again. "Yeah, wicked tight."

"That's nice, man."

Rivers nodded. His eyes remained on him a moment longer before flicking to the water, breaking a spell that had Samuel almost jump. He sat on the hard shore, the waves lapping close.

Rivers settled next to him, close enough to let his body heat graze Samuel's skin.

"Are your folks back in Vegas?"

Samuel glanced away behind his Rodenstock. "Boulder City."

"Right."

"But yes, mom is. Dad remarried when I was six. I saw him a couple of times since. I think he and his wife live in Florida now."

Eight years since the last time his father had showed up, expecting his sudden presence to make a real man out of his son.

"That sucks, man. I'm sorry." Rivers' voice carried no pity, just sorrow. It was refreshing.

Samuel shrugged. "We're better off." He twitched a smile and hugged his knees. "So your mother's a lawyer, uh?"

Rivers leaned back against his hands, his bent legs opening and closing. "She is. Dad too. But mom works with ACLU."