the Devil and the Sea

9| Deal with the Devil

I sigh noisily as I get to my feet. I don't feel anything, or I feel everything at once, so I can't make out exactly what feelings I have. This is most likely a disappointment: when I found out about the new guy from Phil, I thought it would be someone unusual and interesting, but in reality it is an arrogant bespectacled man who tried to humiliate me when I was already depressed.

At least he doesn't seem to recognize me. He did not react to my presence, did not even give a sign that he remembered our meeting on the beach.

He, Vincent, laughs again, then shifts his gaze and looks straight ahead, and it dawns on me that those cold eyes are staring at me intently.

All my insides are mangled in a tight knot. Did he recognize me? I'm not sure: then on the beach I was without makeup, besides, my eyes were crying, and there was a complete mess on my head. Now I'm at my best, with a crop top and shorts hugging my body seductively, knee-length socks and trainers giving the look a casual feel. My shiny hair is pulled back into a ponytail and my eyes are accentuated with classic arrows.

The Englishman and I continue to silently stare at each other. Eye contact is a power struggle. To look away means to obey. Without looking up, I coldly burn blue eyes pretending to be imperturbable, I continue to press with arrogance, and finally he is the first to look away.

I smile at my victory. Besides, I didn't see anything in his look that would indicate that he realized that it was me he threw into the sea at the San Juan celebration.

I vaguely feel that Ricky is looking at me, and I instantly take on an indifferent look.

"This bespectacled guy is so strange. Is that the guy Phil was talking about?" Imperceptibly, Marina appears and throws her hand around my neck.

Finally she came, I already began to suspect that today she would not come.

"The same one. And yes, those glasses..." I pretend like I'm cringing.

"But despite that, he's pretty cute." Marina whispers in my ear, deliberately touching her lips.

"He's not my type," I say indifferently, and gently shrug off her hand.

Marina wiggles her eyebrows ambiguously, and in response I put on a squeamish grimace, and we laugh.

Out of the corner of my eye I see that the Englishman is looking at Marina and me. How could he not recognize me? Is it a common thing for him to insult someone and forget about this person in the same second? And most importantly: if he recognized me, how would he show it?

He's starting to piss me off: he acts like he's doing us a favor by coming here. He should stand on the sidelines and look embarrassedly at his feet. But this is in my fantasy world, but in reality... in reality, my heart is beating faster than usual, which is why he annoys me so much.

Vincent glances at me, and I freeze tensely, but there is nothing in his eyes, only indifference, as if his eyes again accidentally fell on me. He definitely doesn't remember me, or at least pretends to.

I look down at my sneakers wondering how it's possible that Phil's friend is actually such an asshole. Although Phil himself is not a role model either. Otherwise, we would not have become my friend.

"Let's split into teams. Vincent, are you in the game?" Phil asks, and I look curiously at Vincent.

Vincent is also looking at me for some reason. My cheeks suddenly heat up and before I have time to process anything, I cut him off as he parts his plump lips for an answer.

"I don't want to play with someone who can't play." I hear my arrogant voice, and I myself am surprised at my audacity. Why now?

Cold crystal eyes glare at me as if to say that now I am his number one enemy, but I only raise my chin even higher and smirk.