My Fudged Up World

[ t h r e e ]

"SHAWTY GOT LOW, LOW, LOW, LOW, LOW, LOW, LOW, LOW," Chris shouts along to the music as he whizzes past on his skateboard. 

Jai laughs, "Your voice can't even go low enough," 

Chris just flips him off and continues singing. I watch him and smile slightly. We had been playing Mario Cart when I finished my half of our deal by drawing on his arm. When I asked him what he wanted, he had absentmindedly said "Something cool," Taking his vague answer as a creative licence, I ordered him not to look and drew a big picture of Baby Peach on his forearm. I then added on a couple of "Mommy's boy," doodles and lots of hearts with arrows. Lastly, I doodled on some pretty floral prints for kicks. When it was finished, I wasn't sure how he was going to react to it, but he just laughed in this sort of carefree way that he seems to react to everything with. But even with the drawing's ridiculousness, with him blaring music and skating around us, he managed to pull it off. I'd never tell him, but he even managed to make it kind of cool. 

After I had finished drawing and the boys gotten bored of Mario Kart, we had set out to the ice cream shop. They said its close enough to walk to, so we were now just strolling in the middle of the road, because apparently that's acceptable behaviour in small beach towns. 

Dylan kicks a football over to Pete and Pete kicks it back at him. Dylan misses it and it flies past him. 

"Hah! And that tremendous shot into the goal goes to... the legendary Peter Taylor!" Pete shouts, raising his arms as Dylan runs, his little feet barefoot, down to where the ball had stopped. 

I had been shocked when he walked out of the house barefoot, because in England, if anyone saw you going out barefoot, they'd probably never talk to you again out of embarrassment. The guys had laughed when I pointed this out and welcomed me to the "middle of nowhere, hippie beach town". Pete had joined Dylan in being barefoot but Chris had put on some Converse, Marc some flip-flops and Jai a pair of battered black Vans. 

Once they'd gotten changed earlier, I'd noticed he had a slightly different look from all the other boys. In fact, they all did. Marc was wearing a casual, short sleeved button-up with chino shorts and slightly neater hair; Jai, black knee-length jean shorts, a white tank and hair messily gelled into a quiff; Chris, a snapback over his messy hair, board shorts and my wacky tats; Pete with board shorts and t-shirt, his hair a wavy mess and Dylan with his mismatched top and shorts, walking around like he's one of the big boys. 

It's like they purposely sorted out who was who: Good boy, bad boy, skater boy, doesn't-care boy and adorable boy. 

It was almost cute, in a way. 

Marc elbows me lightly. "What'chya thinking about?" 

I shrug. "How different all you guys are, I guess."

He grins. "You have to be, otherwise people always mix up who's who." 

"Does it work?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. 

He shakes his head, chuckling slightly. 

We turn the corner and there stands a building with a sign saying 'Fudged Up Ice Cream Parlor' and table littered around the outside, facing - like everything else in this small town - the sea. 

I look at Chris, who is now standing beside me. "Not cheesy at all," I drawl. 

He laughs and takes hold of my arm, pulling me towards the entrance. "Come on." 

A few people sitting in the outside tables nod at the boys as we go past. Chris throws open the shop's doors, almost dramatically, and pulls me in, the boys following.