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Grabbing my phone, I pull up Chloe’s Instagram to see what she and Natalie are doing now. They posted a few pictures last night of them painting their toes. Today there are a few pics of them at the beach. In one, Nat is sitting in a beach chair with her glasses pulled down, and her eyes are looking up at Chloe. Her hair looks windblown. Her cheeks are tinged pink from the sun. She’s smiling at the camera, and she looks fucking beautiful.
Walking down the stairs, I see my mom sitting at her antique writing desk.
“Hey, Mom. What’s up?”
“Nothing is up, my darling. Aren’t you supposed to be at the beach house with Chloe? You know I hate her there alone.” My mother is still under the impression that Chloe can’t take care of herself when, in reality, the two of us have been taking care of ourselves most of our lives.
“Yeah, Murphy is picking me up in a few minutes. What are you and Dad doing this weekend?”
My mother stands gracefully, shoulders back, head held high, old money breeding allowing nothing less. Not a hair out of place, she’s wearing a red dress with matching heels and pearl earrings that have been passed down in her family for over a century. This is how my mother dresses seven days a week, no matter what she is doing. She may dress up more than this depending on her function, but I cannot remember her ever dressing down.
“I’m updating my calendar now. Your father and I will be traveling more than usual over the next month, and I want to make sure that I’ve got everything handled. He is in the process of closing a large deal, and I needed to move a few things around.”
“Are you going to be able to go to the season opener next week?”
“I don’t think so, Brady. Your father and I have engagements already scheduled for next weekend. Now, I’ve had the beach house stocked with groceries for you and your friends. Please tell Aiden Murphy to be careful driving today. Shore traffic is bound to be dreadful. Keep your eye out for your sister, no drinking and driving. Do not embarrass me.” Gently placing her hand on my face, she pulls me down to her and kisses my cheek. “I love you, darling.” Then my mother walks away.
I wonder if I am the only 18-year-old man who wishes his parents were more involved. I hear Murphy beeping the horn from the driveway and turn, yelling goodbye into the house.
No one answers.
Last weekend before senior year, here we come.
Murphy was the first to get his license last year and has been the unofficial chauffeur ever since. He only lives three streets away, so I typically get picked up first, meaning I call shotgun, while Bash and Cooper end up in the two captain’s chairs in the back of Murph’s Escalade.
Once we are all together, Cooper starts shooting off questions. “Alright, so who’s going down for the party? Is it tonight or tomorrow?” This is Cooper’s first Labor Day bonfire beach party. It’s easy to forget that he wasn’t here last year because he fits in so well.
Murphy looks at Coop through the rearview before answering. “Tiffany will be there. Her parents own a house in the same town. Most of her minions will be with her too, so there’s plenty of girls that’ll be willing to go down.” Murphy laughs at himself. “Not that Tiffany is going to let anyone else get close to you, Cooper.”
Bash rolls his eyes. “Dude! Forget the girls from school. It’s the locals that will be smoking hot and down for anything. It’s better when they don’t know you and live an hour away. Makes it easier not to get stuck with a clinger. Sorry to say it, Coop, but you’re screwed.”
I have to laugh at that. “You can’t say we didn’t warn you Tiff was a stage five clinger Coop.”
Murphy is quick to agree. “Yeah, man. Way easier to bang and bounce if you don’t have to see them again. Cut that girl out now and get some variety in your life. Girls are like ice cream. You never know what your favorite flavor is going to be until you lick them all. Or until they lick you, is more like it!” We all groan at how bad that line was. “Shut the fuck up, all of you. You know you were all thinking it. I’m just the only one to say it.”
“She’s not that bad, guys. We’re just having fun.” Cooper sounds like he is trying to convince himself. Maybe he’s seeing a different version of Tiffany than what we are used to.
After a few minutes, Murphy punches my shoulder. “What the fuck, QB? You got awful quiet on me there. You need to let loose for the last weekend before the season officially starts. More than anyone, you need to find a local girl that you won’t have to see again and release some of that pent up energy, man. You’re strung so tight. We’re all worried you’re going to snap.” He looks over at me quickly before looking back to the highway.
Something Murphy says rarely resonates with me, but maybe he’s right. Maybe hooking up with a local girl is the answer. Maybe it’ll help get a certain blonde pixie out of my mind.
* * *
We are on the other side of the bridge that takes us onto the island, sitting in bumper to bumper traffic. The bridge is open as a boat passes through, and we could be here awhile. The sun is still hot and high in the sky, but Murph knows how much I like the windows open when we come down here, so he’s blasting the air conditioning and has the windows down.
Bash is laughing as we inch along. “Okay, Coop. Your turn. Fuck, Marry, Kill—Black Widow, Pepper Pots, and Gamora. Go.” This is Bash’s favorite pastime for long bus rides too.
“That’s easy. Pepper Pots is the only one that I could kill without getting seriously hurt. I’d marry Black Widow and Fuck Gamora.” Proud of himself, Coop looks like he just cured cancer with that decision.
I’ve got to ask, even though I don’t think I want to know the answer. “Why are you marrying Black Widow? Gamora looks like she’s way more fun.”’
“Because QB, I don’t want my kids to be green.”
These assholes make me smile.
Finally, the bridge closes, and we are pulling onto the island. Two fucking hours in a car in stop and go traffic has me antsy to get out and stretch my legs. Shore traffic on a holiday weekend is always rough, but I love this part. With the windows down as we cross the bridge, the island's salty, marshy smell hits my nose. There has always been something about that ocean air that just relaxes me. I’m reminded of lazy summer days on the warm sand, surfing with my dad, and not a care in the world. Instantly, I feel the weight lifted from my shoulders, even if only for a few days.
Murphy navigates the streets easily until we pull into my parent’s driveway right behind Chloe’s little red Fiat convertible. It looks like a wind-up toy next to this giant SUV. We all grab our bags and the cooler, then head into my parent’s house. They just bought this one a few years ago when Dad’s company won a huge account. He celebrated with the biggest house on the island. It’s a three-story stucco home with a porch that wraps around the entire first floor. Balconies sit off the second and third floors, all with million-dollar views of the island. From the porch, we have beach access on one side and a view of the bay on the other.
