Ask Me Anything

Chapter 8

The next day after the party, Carrie and I went to the beach while the rest of the gang went to work. We both had the day off and we figured we should use it to do something fun. Carrie was laying out in the sun on her towel while I, to no one's surprise, was buried deep in my book.

The sun was out in full forced and I started to feel the sweat form on my forehead. Once I looked up and saw the ocean, I couldn't get the thought of going down and at least getting my feet wet out of my head. Just something to cool off. I turned to Carrie.

"Hey, I think I'm going to go down to the water. You want to come with me?"

She turned her head towards me, but didn't open her eyes. "Nah, I think I'll stay here for now," she said contentedly. Carrie's skin was usually a few shades darker than the rest of us, but with the sun she was getting from the beach and from soccer, she was starting to look like an ad for Coppertone. "I might get up later to get something to eat, though. Want anything, if you're not back by then?"

I thought about it for a minute, then answered, "A hot dog would be nice." I glanced down at the side of my chair at the empty plastic bottle sitting next to me. "And another water bottle, maybe."

Carrie's eyes snapped open. She propped herself up on her elbows and looked at me, slightly disgusted. "Do you have any idea what goes in to making a hot dog?"

I shook my head stubbornly. "No, I have no idea, and I don't care how gross it might be, I plead ignorance," I protested. "They taste amazing and I will never stop eating them, thank you very much!"

I guess everyone has seen the same damn documentary about what goes into making hot dogs because most people I know will give me the same speech when I say that I still eat hot dogs in blissful ignorance as to their source material. One could probably take a pretty good guess, but hot dogs were a staple of the beach, or the ball park. I wasn't going to shatter that for myself. 

I got up from my chair, turned,  and started to walk to the water. "Here, I googled it!" she shouted, holding out her phone, but I ran to the water laughing without a glance in her direction. "No! No spoilers!" No matter how hard she tried, she was not going to ruin hot dogs for me! 

I made it to the edge of the water, where the sand felt like mud and you started to sink into it the longer you stood on it. Hoping that the water wasn't that cold, I stepped forward, letting an incoming wave wash over my feet. Not too bad. The sea breeze felt great, and I could feel it drying off my sweaty body already. I reached back and pulled the hair tie out of my hair, letting it all down and the wind blow through it. I took a deep breath, inhaling that salty air, closed my eyes and sighed. It felt marvelous, and I couldn't stop the satisfied smile from spreading across my lips. Everyone says they have their happy place, and the beach would always be mine.

A tap on the shoulder pulled me from my dreamy state of euphoria, though. My eyes sprung open, and I turned around to see who was bothering me. And of course, because my luck was set in stone to be a big cosmic joke, it was Lucas. Shirtless, toned, sweaty, and surprisingly dressed in a red lifeguard's bathing suit.

"Hey, Connor," he said, a slight sheepish tone in his voice. He was clearly on guard. 

I stared at him through my sunglasses, confused and not really sure what to say. Usually, I was very good about quick responses. I could throw sarcastic remarks out like no one's business. But it was like my brain waves were scrambled and having a hard time collecting themselves in what would usually be a socially acceptable time table. 

"Oh, um," I stammered finally, "hi."

He shifted his weight around on his feet as he started to sink into the sand. "I just wanted to talk to you, is that alright?" he asked. He seemed really uneasy.