Because of Samantha | Original Novel

05 - Because of Cheerleaders

"Check out my sunscreen nose!" Aaron hollers, dancing around ridiculously with his nose smothered in sunscreen. "How am I looking, broski?" He winks, flouncing around in the foaming tides and eventually tripping, falling on his face. When he recovers, the ocean's washed away the sunscreen nose he apparently took so much pride in.

I snort, tossing my assigned English book to the side. Standing up in the hot sand, I reach my hands above my head and let the warm four o'clock sun hit my face. After I caught my mother making out with Dennis on our front porch, Aaron told her that he was taking me to the beach. I didn't question it - Aaron isn't dumb, you know - and instead changed into beach-appropriate clothing.

We live by Leo Carrillo, and have went here since we were small kids. Leo Carrillo is a sweet place. There's a pier, tide pools, the beautiful ocean, and they shot The Karate Kid here. (The real one, at that.) Visiting this place made me feel more at home than some foundation and installation possibly could, and right now, that's all I need.

"Come, bask in the water with your bestest friend in this world!" Aaron hollers, grabbing my hand and yanking me into the water. I splash against the cold mud, which got me wet and muddy from head to toe. Annoyed, I stand up.

Aaron asked for it, so he's about to get it.

I grab a handful of muddy sand, and chuck at his head. It gets the entire right half of him. He does the same to me, and soon, we're a couple of seventeen year olds playing in the mud. It's the beach, for crying out loud! There was no possible way that we couldn't start messing around like children.

Abruptly, Aaron stops chucking mud at me and starts to stare. I turn in his direction, and roll my eyes when I catch sight of yet another busty beach chick. Her bikini, the sun forming a halo around her, and the water clinging to her golden body showed me why beach chicks are the main targets of men in this state.

"Aaron," I snap, hitting his shoulder. It wasn't that I was jealous. It was that I hated when men stared at attractive girls. Believe it or not, I'm quite the feminist. "Aaron, you're staring more than a pervert with an eyelid condition."

"That's Tracy Rubinstein," Aaron informs me dumbly, "the new cheer captain. She just moved here, and already, she's become the captain and a Student Body Officer."

Just hearing that, I already detest this girl. Anyone who holds more power over regular peers, I tend to stay away from. Football players and cheerleaders have the most rein above anyone else. I didn't see what was so great about them - they were basically just other faces in the crowd, except more privileged - but apparently, Aaron did.

Tracy raises her hand up in a wave towards Aaron. His face turns bright red, and he waves back cheesily. I groan, flopping back down onto my towel and glowering at the sand until Ms. Look At My Cheer Body finally passes by. Aaron finally turns his attention away from her.

"What? You jealous?" he teases, flopping beside me. I punch his shoulder as hard as I possibly can, which I guess is pretty hard. Aaron grunts, falling into the sand. He sits back up, dusting off his shoulders, and says, "Calm down, Sammy. I always have room for you."

"Uh-huh," I mutter, snapping my head to the other side. Aaron swats my ear, and I bat him in the nose, and soon, we start messing around and smacking each other again.

Aaron stops again, and I look around, just in case Tracy returned. I know how it is with girls like her. They hop from boy to boy like there's no tomorrow, and frankly, it'd only drive me to punch her in the nose if she were to hurt Aaron the way she'd hurt everyone else. At least, that's the worst case scenario I see.

"I want to join the football team," Aaron declares.

"Why?" I question. I was only skeptical because Aaron and I would always make fun of athletes from afar, pointing out their too-large muscles and their cocky broken-nosed faces. Suddenly, a thought occurs to me. "You want to be close to Tracy, don't you!" I poke at his ear playfully.

"Well, actually, not quite," Aaron explains. "I been wanting to lately. Tracy is just the motivation, you know."

I shake my head, busting a laugh.

"If you obviously care about Tracy so much, how come I've never met her?" I demand. "Scared that I'll bust her bikini?"

"I've never met her myself," Aaron mumbles, "It's really just a boy crush. I'm almost certain football is completely out of my grasp. Besides," he glances towards the ocean in front of us, reflecting the beautiful sea in his blue eyes, "Emil's on the team, isn't he?"

"Unfortunately," I snort.

Aaron chuckles, and stands up, walking straight towards the sea. He picks up something in the tides, and I narrow my eyes, trying to get an idea as to what he was snatching. I shake my head. It was probably another piece of seaweed.

When he comes back, he tosses the item to me. I pick it up, and discover that it was a miniature conch shell. It glimmers in the sun. Beautiful.

"No matter what happens," Aaron asks me, staring straight into my eyes, "Promise that you'll always be my friend."

"Why?" I question. "Are you worried?"

"Just, promise."

I sigh, taking a deep breath.

"I promise."

***

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