Beside You

Dreaming

"Seriously, we've toured in France--Paris--and you haven't heard of us? You're bluffing."

"I'm not! I've lived a very sheltered life," I side-eyed Michael and teasingly nudged his arm, "Maybe, you guys just aren't that big of a deal as you think."

"HA--WERE A PRETTY BIG DEAL," Calum burst from the back seat, catching me by surprise. He drapes his arm over my seat and stares me down, playfully, "You will regret saying that."

Feeling unconfident--this small band sure has a lot of confidence in themselves--but too deep in the game, I foolishly reply, "Prove it."

"You're dead," Luke sympathetically nods.

Suddenly, Ashton whips out a couple albums, shouting excitedly, about their release dates and their work on each one, over Calum, listing off the awards they've won and proudly exclaiming how they've come so far from humble origins, then Michael was leaning into me, phone in my face, "Look at all my twitter followers!"

I exploded with laughter, "I'M SORRY, SORRY!" and fought Michael off me, our arms entangling. "Give me a break, I have the social standing of an 80 year old lady, right now! Please, I'm the victim, here!" I exaggerated a sob, but got no sympathy. Calum continues to jab my cheek and rant over my shoulder, Ashton, giggling at my stupidity, attempts to get Luke to fan-girl with him, while Michael--after I surrendered the cat-fight--leaves an arm extended around my shoulders, chuckling at the hysteria I've caused.

"SHUT UP!" Michael jolts upright and jumps for the car door, "we're here!"

"Right, where's here?" holding the car door open for Calum, Ash, and Luke in the backseat.

"Manly Beach." Luke stretches his limbs from the car ride.

"It got its name when I came here," Michael flexes his arms and poses in ridiculous positions.

Ashton's giggle is heard the loudest amongst our laughter. "Beauty. I think you've confused this beach with Palm Beach; used to be Palm to the Head."

Luke chuckles at Ashton's joke, then turns to me, "We're taking a break from work, here. Shit--you don't have bathers; didn't think about that. Let me run you to the shop."

"It's okay. I wouldn't want you to spend your money on me. I'll happily sit out--anywhere is better than school!"

"Nonsense! We invited you, so, we're not letting you sit out."

"I want to come, too!" Michael calls from the trunk, but is quickly rejected (Ashton lifts a bunch of chairs under an arm with little effort, "Well--Calum and I aren't going to carry this shit by ourselves!"). Michael turns to Luke and makes a puppy face, glancing at me.

"It'll only take a second!" Luke pulls me along, and exhales, "I hate this band."

...

Luke adjusts his glasses as he waits for me outside the changing stall, "So, why'd you end up on the streets, in the first place?" He answered his own question with another question, "You ditched school?"

I stare at my reflection in the mirror, adjust the bikini's straps, purse my lips, pinch my waist, roll my eyes, and settle with the inevitable: I'm going to be really self-conscious. "Yeah. I didn't feel like going. My friend wasn't there--er, should I say my only friend? I feel stupid that that's my reason for not going. I just didn't want to be alone; I'm already alone, all the time, at home." I look up, listening for the break in silence. "Sorry, for being a downer--"

"Well, we'll be here if you need us. You don't have to be alone."

My mouth twitches, as I struggle to keep myself from exploding. I wanted to scream, laugh, and cry at the same time. I press my face into my hands to calm myself, "Thanks, Luke. Fuck what the adults say about strangers; you guys are the best strangers I've ever met--ha. Hey, Luke," I opened the stall door a crack and beam up at him. I couldn't read his expression through his shades--was he honest about what he said? "I'm ready, but--oh?"

Luke uncrumples an old receipt from his back pocket and scribbles his number on the back, "Keep it, use it, text it whenever you need to..."

"Thanks. It means a lot," I awkwardly fidget with the paper in hand and bite my lip, "But, one more favor...can I borrow your shirt?"

...

"Why's she wearing your shirt?" Michaels tone sounds peeved.

Anxious to explain himself, Luke cut me off, "No! She didn't want to wear her bathers by itself, so she's using it as a cover-up. That's all."

Michael glanced at my hands holding the hem of Luke's shirt down, against the coastal winds, then flung his arms dramatically over his bare chest, "Oh my body! If anybody needs a cover-up, it should be me! Kathleen, help a mate out!" He reaches for Luke's shirt, "I need this more than you do! Make a sacrifice for the greater good!"

I snort, whacking his hands off, "Are you serious! No! MIKEY!" We fight each other for the shirt; him tugging the neck over my head, while I'm one handedly slapping and pulling the shirt down with the other. "OH MY GOD!" I gasp. Michael scoops me over his shoulder and runs for the shoreline, my legs flailing in the air.

The lads follow suit, hooting and cheering Michael on: "For the greater good!" "Fight for what's rightfully yours!" "Show her whose boss!" "THAT'S MY SHIRT"

Michael leaps into the water, clutching me close, so I couldn't escape his prank. Water crashes against our bodies, bubbles tickling our skin. My arms reach for Michael's neck, pulling tightly to him, as the pounding waves try to pull us apart. He senses the tension in my body and wraps his arms around me, pulling me to the surface. I gasp and punch his chest, "YOUUU!" was all I could say before I had to cling to him again and catch my breath. He smirks and I shoot him a look, "You're enjoying this, aren't you--I can't believe you!" I feel for the shirt on my body in disbelief. His grin widens; he's holding Luke's shirt in his hand.

"You looking for this?" He hurls the shirt onto shore (Luke runs after it before the tide sweeps it away, "Really, mate!?") and shrugs, "woops."

"Ha!" I slap water into his face, "You are something else. YOU ARE SATAN. I should've known from that red hair." I laugh as we get into a water fight, splashing back and forth.

He catches my hands in his, "But, really. You have nothing to be self-conscious of. You're really pretty just how you are." Manipulating my hands like a puppet, Michael places them on his face, flashes a smile and bats his eyelashes.

I let my hands cup his cheeks--what is this feeling. I giggled, "Thanks. You're pretty okay yourself, for being the king of hell, Satan."

"Aye, don't make me barf. I'm right here." Calum wades nearby as he, Luke, and Ashton get ready for a game of catch. "Just trying to enjoy my day off."

Michael pulls away to join the others, "What am I, a third wheel? I want in!"

"From the looks of it, you made yourself the third wheel all on your own," Calum chuckled.

I watch in awe as the four wrestle for the ball, playfully drowning each other, tossing jokes back and forth. How did I meet the greatest guys in the world? How did everything turn around so quickly? I didn't want to pinch myself. If it was a dream, I don't want to wake up.

"Kathleen, catch!" "No, don't let Luke get it, he sucks!" "I CAN'T SWIM! STOP HOLDING ONTO ME."

Crap. I can't stop smiling.