the Devil and the Sea

19| BBQ: Invitation

I don't know what I will do, but I am sure that Vincent accompanies Marina for a reason. I try to hide an obscenely wide grin, but of course I can't. Noticing me, Vincent straightens his hair and straightens his T-shirt. Good sign.

They approach and we exchange smiles. I look at Marina: a short top showing a flat stomach; low-cut shorts, focus on the waist and hips; long dark blond hair reaching her waist, and arrows covering her eyelids, drawing attention to the large amber eyes. Beauty - in one word.

There is not a hint of makeup on my face, and I'm wearing my favorite black T-shirt with a very noticeable hole in the navel area, black denim shorts to the middle of the thigh, and hair on my head ... hair is gathered in a sloppy bun at the top of my head.

"How's this party going?" I'm genuinely interested.

"Excellent! Boo-a-a-eat!" Marina draws in a drunken voice.

"Are you already drunk?" I raise my eyebrows in surprise.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice that Vincent chuckled, looking at me with gray-blue eyes.

Now his eyes seem to be grey-blue.

"Well-u-u-u... so... quite a bit," Marina replies and laughs, while she stutters at the same time.

"How much did you drink?" I ask and look at Vincent, who looks at me with undisguised interest.

You can tell from Vincent that he also drank: if he were sober, he wouldn't stare so arrogantly. Although, who knows.

"A little." Marina says.

"Why did you come?" I ask as I watch Vincent survey our yard.

"Joan left a bottle of whiskey hidden at home, he asked me to bring it." Marina says, playing with her hair.

"Did he say where it is?"

"Yes, in his room under the mattress." Marina answers, twisting a lock of long hair around her finger.

I am laughing.

"So go and get it, Marina."

She smiles a drunken smile and enters the house, leaving me alone with the guy with the glasses. Vincent's eyes are on mine. I, too, begin to look at him without a shadow of embarrassment. Vincent no longer annoyed me, so I discard any preconceptions about him, hoping to start all over again. Expecting to do what I intended. Expecting to have a good time and have fun as I should.

Our eyes meet, a smile never leaves his lips. The sly look is confusing. He's probably drunk. But I can't help but smile back.

"I hope you're not as drunk as Marina." I don't know why I'm saying this, but I want to say at least something.

"No, I drank just a little." Vincent's mouth stretches into an insane smile that sends shivers through my body. It's the first time he smiles like that.

Lying.

He looks different, not the same as on the first day or subsequent ones. His voice sounds different, and his eyes burn strangely. Feeling like we met for the first time. It's like he's not the same Vincent he was on San Juan anymore.

"As they say - for courage."

For courage? Was he up to something? I wonder who it concerns? Isn't it me?

I look at Vincent: tousled blond hair, which has already grown decently from the first day of his stay, casually sticks out in different directions, and falls over his forehead. Vincent seems to have followed my gaze as he runs his fingers through his hair and brushes the hair off his forehead in one motion.