The Almost Summer

Chapter 16: You can't compete if you're Simon♥

Flip-flops were a bad idea, I think as I practically slide down the cliff top path leading to the beach bordering Plassey Lake. Lucas and Charlie are already down on the beach, skimming stones across the silvery water whilst I discover I am not a very balanced person. Tripping for what feels like the millionth time, I decide I’m close enough to the floor to jump and so I do, landing messily on the damp sand. It has the consistency of dense mud, squelchy and slightly disgusting. My flip-flops make a slopping sound as I jog over to join them by the water’s edge.

Plassey Lake is a strange place: so grey and dismal you almost miss the beauty of it. It’s like a vacuum, all colour and sounds have been sucked away, leaving only a numbness that’s calming. Sheltered by a sloping cliff, unless you know it’s there it’s near impossible to see until you’re practically on the beach itself. What appear to be jagged rocks are marooned across the beach like grey icebergs, yet from years’ experience of climbing over them I know they’re actually smooth to the touch.

I join them at the water’s edge, stopping along the way to collect several roughly circular, flat stones. Perfect for skimming, I decide.

“You know, I’m feeling a five today,” I tell my brother, who is kneeling nearby in order to find a stone of his own. 

“Autumn, we’ve had this conversation; you’re a beautiful feminist being who is at least a ten.” He replies, tone bored.

“No you idiot. Not like, looks-wise. I mean, I think can skim five.” I tell him, to which he straightens up immediately, eyes wide.

“Is that a….challenge?” He asks, voice taking on a game-show host quality.

“Bitch it might be.” We size each other up.

“I bet I can skim at least six.” He replies.

“Yeah right!” I snort, shifting my weight so that I’m better balanced. I go to throw it, but feel a grip on my arm stopping me. “What?” I ask Charlie irritably.

“We need an official. You’ll cheat otherwise.” He says, then turns on his heel. “Oi! Lucas!” He yells at the top of his voice, despite the fact that Lucas is only about five metres away.

“What?” He yells back, turning to face us.

“We’re skimming. Autumn cheats. You’re Simon Cowell. Capisce?” Charlie informs him, voice finally at a normal volume.

“Um, yes. But why am I Simon?” Lucas asks, eyebrows slanting in confusion as he stares at the waistline of his jeans, like they will suddenly be up around his armpits.

“You know, you’re like the judge.” Charlie says, his tone implying this should be obvious. Lucas frowns.

“So why didn’t you just say I was a judge?”

“Because-”

“Right: I’m having my go now. So, stop arguing and take the opportunity to witness the pure talent displayed.” I cut in, saving us about half an hour of pointless bickering.