Summer is the best part of the year. Perhaps even the best part of my life since I turned fourteen.
My parents were doing groundwork for their business based in Macau. They needed to stay there for six solid months. To sweeten my disposition, they promised to come home a month after the start of my school break. For the meantime, I was to stay with my Dad’s lawyer sister; Aunt Allie who happen to live a mile away from Shooting star beach.
Aunt Allie planned to spend time with me while I was there. Unfortunately, she had a prominent case she needed to focus on. She was off to work by 7 am and came home by 9 or 10. To prevent me dying from boredom, she arranged for me to have swimming lessons at the nearby beach.
To my surprise, my swimming instructor turned out to be a 16 year old snob who thought he could hypnotize a girl whenever he smirks at them.
Trent.
But with some weird play of fate, I found myself stuck with him. Eventually, being stuck with him became my choice and his. He became the best part of my summer. My short vacation transpired to be something to look forward to every year since then. Trent and I had no chance to see each other except on summer breaks. He lived in Sacramento and me in Nashville. Pretty hard for two teens to meet up when they have to travel all the way across the country. Still, we never complained. We simply looked forward to the next summer. Like now.
“Table six.” Ms. Braide pointed at it without much as a glance at me.
“I’m on it,” I was already on my feet with writing pad and pen on either hands. Chris and Toni balanced trays as they walked pass me.
The couple I approached spoke English, thank God. I don’t need Sheila to interpret for the nth time of the day.
Roast beef sandwiches. Orange juice. Coffee.
I headed back to the kitchen and relayed the order to Mr. Weston, our jovial cook. He told me he’d be back in a jiffy.
While I hung on the counter, Toni came over and nudged me.
“The Prince of Darkness is here again.” she complained.
“Ms. Braide told us leave him alone, so that’s what I’m gonna do. I suggest you do the same.” Sheila said as she joined us briefly.
“Is staring at the blue blue ocean on our menu? We can’t even charge him for sitting for four hours in table 3, since that’s what he ever does. There are other paying customers who could use it, you know.” Toni was still ranting.
“Sheila’s right. Leave it. Ms. Braide said so.” I reposted.
“He’s actually intriguing…” Chris commented.
“Catatonics ARE psychologically intriguing, of course.” Toni retorted.
“He doesn’t look deranged to me,” Chris countered.
“Yeah. His muscles are massive, his bone structure great, six feet-” Toni started.
“Right. He’s a hunk. Yummy, deliciosio, caliente hot hunk. But just because I can appreciate his God-given looks doesn’t mean I skipped judging his mental stability. I think he’s just pensive, or lonely. Not crazy.” Chris argued.
“Maybe he’s not. But Table number 6 is.” I pointed out. The stern-looking customer had been meaningfully ogling at our direction.
“Oops, gotta go.” Chris scooped the tray and was gone.
“Ms. Braide’s got a point of telling us to stay away from him, I think. Guy’s a wierdo. Anyway, at least something’s interesting in this summer job.” Toni set out to work again.
