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He takes my hand. “I wish you would have come to find me but I understand. See you tomorrow?”
My heart drops and I nod.
“See you tomorrow.”
CHAPTER 5
MIND THE UNDERTOW
OWEN THEN
I am a complete idiot.
Talking to Carly and ignoring Mollie was a giant mistake. Carly and I kind of dated last summer but it was mostly hooking up. I was shocked to see her tonight but she told me her cousin has a house here and she always came here before heading to the Hamptons. She’s easy to talk to and was open to fooling around last night. I wish I can say I said no, but we ended up making out on the couch for a while.
I lost track of time and when we left the roof deck to join the rest of the party, Mollie was gone and I felt like a complete asshole. Instead of leaving to go find her, I did a shot with Dirk and had two more beers. This was in addition to the four beers and two shots I’d taken earlier. My judgement was not great.
Did I end up getting a blowjob in the bathroom from Carly? Yes. Do I feel horrible about everything? Yes and no, I mean I’m single, pretty drunk, and an idiot as we’ve established. Would I have done any of that if I was dating Mollie? Absolutely not, I just get the feeling that she’s not into me so I went the easy route and if I dig deep, I can probably admit I’m acting out.
Right after, I left and took the shuttle back home. I found Mollie and apologized but I’m pretty sure I blew it with her. She has every right to be mad at me for being a shitty friend, and now I’m sure I’m not in the running for anything romantic, even if I was before.
Mollie has been her usual cheery self but there’s definitely a shift in our relationship. We talk about all surface-level stuff now, like she doesn’t trust me to share anything meaningful.
“Is your mom coming down today?” I ask her. She’s been on her own for the past week since her mom went back to the city. “You said you’d come to my house after fireworks and hanging with her.”
She gives me half a smile. “She said she’s coming so I’m going to choose to believe her. I bought a bunch of stuff for us to grill, I made potato salad, and got some corn.”
“Sounds good, do you like to cook?”
“I do,” she says with a faraway look. “My dad and I like to cook together and when I’m with mom she never has time so I like to cook for her too.”
“You’re a good daughter,” I say. “The only thing I like to cook is pancakes.”
“Pancakes are a real skill. Nobody likes a crappy pancake.”
“I can even make a few shapes,” I say puffing my chest out.
“Now you’re just bragging.”
I laugh and scan the beach. Not only is it the Fourth of July, but it’s also sunny and a Saturday. The water is still a little chilly but it’s so hot today that people don’t seem to care. It was low tide all morning and as the tide comes in there’s a big difference in the currents and waves so we are being extra watchful.
My aunt warns me every morning to mind the undertow. There aren’t too many hazards along the LBI shores, but there are a few strong currents and riptides here and there. On our beach during high tide, when you first get in the water it’s relatively deep, but then there’s a bit of a sand bar about 100 feet out where it gets shallow.
When it’s low tide, people wade out to the sand bar and then go out farther to where the waves break. Sometimes when the tide starts to come in people don’t realize how deep the water gets so they are surprised to have to swim to the shoreline. There hasn’t been any issue so far this season, but it’s something we keep an eye out for every day.
I point out a mom and her kid near the sandbar. “They look fine but I’m going to keep an eye on them for now.”
“Yeah, they aren’t regulars and I’m not sure how strong of a swimmer that kid is.” When you sit on a beach all day and watch people swim in the ocean, you really are able to get a sense of ability almost immediately. Some kids are timid and tend to stay by the shore, and some blaze in and have a feel for the waves. But the ocean is the ocean and it’s always unpredictable. I’ve seen experienced swimmers nearly drown because of a rogue wave, or a riptide.
If I had to estimate, there are probably about 50 people in the water and even though it’s relatively calm, the number of people makes us more alert.
“Oh man, look at this butthead again,” Mollie says. I turn to where she’s looking.
“I hate that fucking guy,” I say, standing and blowing my whistle. Almost every day, a man walks from his beachfront house to the ocean and gets in the water, nowhere near the flags we have set up from swimming. He swims around after we whistle at him a few times and then gets out of the water and heads back to his house.
He never acknowledges us and he just picks up his towel and walks back over the dunes. I’ve tried to run down there a few times to talk to him, but I never make it before he’s already at his house. We let our supervisor, Tom, know and he’s promised to talk to the guy.
I whistle a few times and he doesn’t pay me any mind. When I hop down from the chair, I see him swim in, jog to his towel and on to his house never looking back as I call to him.
