HPL Book 1: Looking Through the Lens
Ryan Sylander
Looking Through the Lens
Hook ,Pick ,and Lens – Book One
Ryan Sylander
This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people or real events is purely coincidental.
This story contains explicit descriptions of sexual activities between adults. If this type of material offends you, or is illegal where you live, please do not continue to read. The material would be considered NC-17 in the United States.
This story may not be reproduced in any form without the written permission of the author.
Copyright © 2006–2019 by Ryan Sylander.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Contact information:
ryansylander at yahoo dot com
https://www.patreon.com/ryansylander
Table of Contents
Part I: The Nameless Duánaí
Chapter 1 – Down by the Seaside
Chapter 2 – In Through the Out Door
Chapter 3 – How Many More Times?
Chapter 4 – Nobody’s Fault but Mine
Chapter 5 – Misty Mountain Hop
Chapter 6 – Communication Breakdown
Chapter 7 – Black Mountain Side
Part II: The Tidal Siren
Chapter 8 – Travelling Riverside Blues
Chapter 9 – Good Times, Bad Times
Chapter 10 – I Can’t Quit You, Babe
Chapter 11 – When the Levee Breaks
Chapter 12 – Your Time is Gonna Come
Chapter 13 – The Song Remains the Same
Chapter 14 – What Is and What Should Never Be
Chapter 15 – Friends
Chapter 16 – Fool in the Rain
Part III: The Seine Weaver
Chapter 17 – In My Time of Dying
Chapter 18 – In the Evening
Chapter 19 – In the Light
Chapter 20 – All My Love
Chapter 21 – The Ocean
Chapter 22 – Trampled under Foot
Chapter 23 – Celebration Day
Chapter 24 – Thank You
Extras
Character List
Floor Plans
Preface
Summary:
A summer vacation at the beach changes Matt’s life. His first romantic relationship with one of the local girls is accompanied by a growing closeness with his oversexed sister. Things become complicated when secrets and long distance start interfering with his simple summer affair. He is also haunted by the face of a nameless girl he meets on the fishing pier. Despite the support of his sister and their two mothers, he finds that having a girlfriend is not so easy. It is only through the influence of the women in his life that Matt begins to understand what it means to love someone.
This story is the first part of the Hook, Pick, and Lens series:
Book I: Looking Through the Lens
Book II: Depth of Field
Book III: Shutter Release
If you enjoy this novel, please take a minute to let me know. I always appreciate reader feedback. I can be contacted through email at ryansylander at yahoo dot com. For more information and stories, visit my website at:
https://www.patreon.com/ryansylander
This is the fifth version of Looking Through the Lens, significantly revised and expanded from the original. Some 40,000 words have been added or changed over the years, particularly in the first seven chapters. The story was greatly improved by the input of several editors, including pcb and TeNderLoin. In addition, the comments and suggestions of several anonymous readers are deeply appreciated. Finally, thank you to those readers who have taken the time to write with their comments on the story over the past three and a half years.
Cheers!
Ryan Sylander
November 25, 2018
Version history
First edition (unedited): December 2006
Second edition (edited by TeNderLoin): October 2007
Third edition (edited by pcb): October 2009
Fourth edition (additional edits and formatting): October 2014
Fifth edition (additional edits and formatting): December 2018
Part I: The Nameless Duánaí
The Sea, once she casts her spell, holds one in her net of wonder forever.
- J.Y.C.
Chapter 1 – Down by the Seaside
Thump, thump, thump, thump…
“Turn that crap off!” I yelled at the guy in my dream.
I rolled around in bed for a minute before figuring out that I wasn’t dreaming. Something really was pulsing my room like a cheesy dance club. As the sleep evaporated from my eyes, I caught sight of my sneakers on the floor beside my bed. Since they were within arm’s reach, one of the shoes ended up flying across the room. It was a useless effort, though. The shoe struck the wall right in time with the music, adding just a little more oomph to the downbeat. It also left a dark gray mark on the white paint that I’d have to clean off.
“Lara… Fuck!” I grumbled in annoyance.
I glanced at the alarm clock. It was an ungodly hour to be roused. I lay in bed for a few more seconds, hoping that the pounding would miraculously stop. It didn’t. Finally I gave up and threw the covers aside in disgust. Gritting my teeth, I stomped down the hall, pulling up at Lara’s door.
“Hey! Lara!” I yelled as I banged on it.
My sister was blasting her new Madonna Like a Prayer cassette. It was a birthday present Aunt Beth had given her the previous night, shortly after we’d arrived at their house for our annual vacation. My tastes ran toward Led Zeppelin and Hendrix, so most of the music from the current decade made me want to throw up, especially so early in the morning. Fortunately, the eighties would become history in six months. The music only seemed to grow more annoying as I knocked again. Six long months.
There was no answer, so after a moment’s hesitation I turned the handle. The volume tripled as the door opened into the bright room. The morning sun and sea air invaded my still sleepy brain, adding to the aggravation.
“What the hell, Lara?” I shouted, squinting my eyes as I stepped in. “If you didn’t notice, I was trying to—Oh… Hey, Julie. I didn’t know you were here.”
Lara and her friend were sitting on the floor in their bathing suits, staring up at me. I was suddenly aware of my own near-nakedness as I stood there in just my boxers. I shifted uncomfortably as Julie gave a little wave.
“Hi Matt!” she yelled over the music.
She grinned slightly as her gaze inadvertently drifted down my body, making me wonder if my boxers were betraying me. I didn’t dare draw further attention to my middle by checking, though.
“Don’t you knock?” Lara asked. “We could’ve been changing or something!”
“I did knock, but you obviously couldn’t hear it with all this noise!”
“What?” she called out, her hand to her ear.
Evidently my attempt to keep my voice deep didn’t carry over the music. I stepped to the boom box and turned it down. Much lower than necessary, but I was trying to make a point.
“I said I knocked, but you couldn’t hear it with this crap turned up so loud!”
“Crap?” Lara tittered. “Big words coming from someone who just last year asked to borrow my True Blue album.”
Julie giggled as my sister reached for the radio and upped the volume again.
“What are you talking about?” I shot back. “That was like three years ago, and it… it was for a school thing.” Since I had to raise my voice over the music again, it came out sounding rather desperate.
“Whatever! That’s why you played it like a hundred times a day.”
“No, I didn’t, so shut up,” I retorted. As a flush of heat rose through my neck, I started wishing that I’d stayed in bed and endured the racket after all. “What are you doing with my tape player, anyway?”
Lara rolled her eyes. “Um, we’re sharing it on this trip? Remember? There wasn’t room for mine in the car?”
I waved aside that technicality. “Fine. But it was in my room last night.”
“And I went in and grabbed it this morning. It’s not like you were using it, since you were sleeping,” she explained patiently.
I gave her an arch look. Lara just grinned back impishly.
“I guess I’ll get some breakfast, since sleeping is obviously out,” I muttered.
“Go for it. We already ate. And close the door, will you? I don’t want Mom to come and tell me to turn it down!”
Lara finally let out the laugh she’d obviously been holding in. It was good-natured, but I didn’t feel like lightening up. Julie just eyed me, her face a mix of mirth and… sympathy?
I turned quickly, slamming the door shut as I left. Back in my room, I cracked open one of the shades and checked the mirror from several angles. To my relief, my boxer shorts were well-behaved. If I’d known Julie was in there I would’ve put on a shirt and some shorts. My latest growth spurt had left me tall and thin. I had my dad’s sharp-cut looks and olive skin, but I didn’t quite have his powerful build. Those who had known my dad when he was alive told me that I had his body, but I didn’t think I was anything like the broad-chested and well-proportioned man in the pictures we had back home. I sighed. It didn’t matter how much I ate or worked out, I couldn’t keep up with the vertical growth.
The music grew louder, so I left my thrumming room after throwing on some shorts and a long-sleeved shirt. As I passed Lara’s door, I considered pounding on it just to return some of the annoyance she’d caused me, but since Julie was in there I decided against it. I’d already acted foolish by barging in there practically naked. No need to be childish in front of her as well, I thought.
I trudged out to the kitchen, still plagued by the incessant drum beats and synthesizers. As I absently scanned the food in the fridge, I debated whether to eat some breakfast or simply leave the house for a while.
I could hear Aunt Beth telling a story. I peeked through the kitchen pass-through window that opened onto her enclosed porch. This space was the prime spot to hang out at my aunt’s place, since the wall of windows provided a full panorama of the ocean. As expected, my parents were sitting out there, listening to her gab as they sipped golden tea and ate crumpets. The adults seemed oblivious to the music.
Since my father died when I was very young, ‘my parents’ refers to Sarah Birch and Melissa Jackson. Sarah is my mother by blood, and Melissa is Lara’s mother; both Lara and I share the same father. Although the fact that Lara and I were born six days apart suggests some sort of weird infidelity on my dad’s part, the truth is that Lara and I both had three parents until some drunk woman ran Chris off the highway one night.
Sarah, Melissa, and he fell in love in the heyday of the late sixties. After securing a committed relationship between the three of them, they extended that love into parenthood. When Lara and I were born in the summer of 1975, our parents moved away from the hustle of New York City where my dad had a wildly successful business in art and antiques. They took Lara and me to the quiet and secluded Catskill Mountains, about three hours north of the city. Four days out of the week, my dad stayed in his New York apartment for work, and then he made the drive home for the weekend.
He was thirty years old when he started his final commute. It was a quick death, by all accounts. Because Lara and I were only a few years old when it happened, we have no recollection of him or that period. By the time I emerged from my childhood fog, my father’s passing was a wound that had already been healing for a while. After a court date, a sizeable settlement was offered by the drunk woman’s lawyer, and somehow Melissa convinced him to double it. Between that windfall, the proceeds from my dad’s business and life insurance, and a sizeable monthly rental check from his New York apartment, Sarah and Melissa were able to raise Lara and me while only having to work part time.
(I call both of my parents ‘Mom’ as does Lara, and it’s the inflection in our tone that always distinguishes which parent we mean. Since that spoken nuance eludes the written word, I refer to them by first name here, as needed, but I do so with all the respect and love conferred by ‘Mom’.)
My stomach growled loudly, spurring me out of my thoughts. There was a slight chance I could get one of the adults to force Lara turn down her music, so I stepped through the doorway that led out onto the porch. The three women greeted me, smiling cheerily.
“Do you hear that?” I asked, gesturing in the direction of Lara’s room.
Aunt Beth smiled innocently. “Hear what?”
I groaned. “Great, no sympathy out here. It’s your fault, you know.”
My parents chuckled as my aunt smiled at me. “Sorry,” she offered.
“You got a good amount of sleep in,” Sarah noted, checking her watch.
“Not really.”
“Do you want me to fix you something special for breakfast?” Melissa asked. “Pancakes?”
It was a tempting remedy for my foul mood, since she worked as the head chef at a ski resort. Meals at my house were always delicious. After a moment of thought I rejected her offer, preferring to remain dour. I returned to the kitchen and served myself a pitiful bowl of cereal and milk with a side dish of bass drum.
My uncle came in through the front door of the house just as I sat down at the table.
“Morning, Matt,” he called out as he stashed his tennis bags in the closet.
“Oh, hey, Hans.”
“Been out in the waves yet?”
“Nah. Just woke up. I had trouble sleeping this morning, for some reason.”
Hans glanced at Lara’s door as he passed the hallway. “Yeah, that’ll do it,” he agreed, smiling.
“Well, get used to it,” I said sardonically. “You’re probably going to be hearing a lot of that over the next three weeks.”
Hans laughed. “I’m afraid you’re right. Oh, and I had nothing to do with Lara’s present, just so you know!”
I grunted, knowing Hans was a serious classic rock fan. “I figured as much. Already done teaching tennis lessons for the day?”
He held up a finger as he gulped down a tall glass of water. “No, I have a few more victims this afternoon. The ladies wanted me to run into town and get some fish for lunch.” He peered out through the kitchen window at them for a moment. When he turned back to me, he was grinning and spoke in a quieter voice. “You know, since they’re so busy and all.”
I laughed a little.
“Want to come to the market with me?” he asked.
I considered the offer. “Thanks, but I’m still waking up. I think I’ll hang here.”
Hans nodded as Aunt Beth came in from the porch.
“I heard that comment,” she said to him, arching a brow.
“Even over this noise?” he snarked, winking at me.
She swatted him on the arm. “Oh, come on. You played loud music when you were fourteen, too.”
“How would you know? You didn’t know me back then,” he protested.
“No, but your sister did. Sarah was just telling us about the time she walked in to your room and watched you play air guitar in your underwear for ten minutes before you noticed her. You were quite the acrobat apparently.”
Hans glanced at me, his grin withering fast. “Well—That was—”
My aunt watched him flail his words about for a moment and then nodded. “Mm hmm. That’s what I thought.”
Beth wrote down a couple of ingredients on a piece of paper. Melissa came into the kitchen to check if there was cilantro. When my aunt handed the completed list to Hans, he rolled his eyes.
“I don’t think I need a list just for three items,” he protested.
Being sisters, Beth and Melissa often shared identical facial expressions, including the dubious looks they now gave Hans.
On his way out the door, he grinned at me. “You’re probably going to be seeing a lot of that over the next few weeks,” he quipped, echoing my earlier statement.
The two women ignored his comment, despite the goading looks he sent their way. After my uncle departed for the market, Melissa neared the dining table where I was lazily eating my breakfast.
“Feeling better, sweetie?” she asked, laying a sympathetic hand on my shoulder.
I shrugged. “Still a little tired.”
“Can I get you anything?”
“Nah, thanks. I’m all right, Mom.”
She and Beth returned to the porch with some more pastries. I tried to regain my surly disposition, hoping to showcase it for Lara when she emerged from her room. After a few minutes, though, I let go of the act. It wasn’t the end of the world after all. I was even getting a little used to the background noise, I had to admit.
As I took my last bite of cereal, the music stopped abruptly in mid-song. My heart was still pounding, remembering the pulse of the drums, but the long phrases of crashing waves soon seeped into the sudden silence. The swish and roar of the sea quickly repaired the sonic wounds. Peace, at last.
After washing my bowl in the sink, I walked out through the porch and down the flight of stairs that led to the beach. My aunt and uncle’s house was situated on the sands near the town of Montauk, a small fishing village on the tip of Long Island, New York. I wasn’t overly fond of scratchy sand and salty water, but it was still pretty cool to spend a few weeks of every summer right on the ocean.
Standing on the bottom step, I gazed out at the sea, shielding my eyes from the bright morning sun. The Atlantic stretched out endlessly before me, her rebellious waves filling me with a mix of emotions. Despite visiting my aunt and uncle for as long as I could remember, the sight of the ocean after a year away was always somewhat overwhelming. The endless muffled roar and the diamantine sparkle of sunlight from the tips of chaotic whitecaps made me feel at once lonely and hopeful. What’ll this summer bring? What—
The screen door behind me clattered open, shattering the calm.
“Come on, Matt! We’re going to the beach,” Lara announced, as she and Julie bounced down the wooden steps with entirely too much zeal.
“Nah, I’m too tired,” I replied petulantly, quickly recouping my act.
“Oh, you’re such a wuss. It’s after nine o’clock! We’ve been up for like two hours already.”
“Well, I need my sleep. Otherwise I get grumpy.”
“Pfft… Obviously! See you later then.”
They squeezed by me and jumped down onto the sand, giggling. I watched as they ran toward the water. So much for making her feel bad, I thought. Then again, it was after nine.
For more than a few minutes I entertained the idea of going after Lara and Julie. Eventually I decided I wasn’t quite ready for the exertion of swimming in what appeared to be sizeable waves. Nor was I quite ready for the effort of defending my sudden change of mind, so soon after rejecting Lara’s invitation.
I decided to go fishing instead. Hans had kindly picked up some bait the previous day, knowing how much I enjoyed going down to the pier to angle for pan fish. After gathering my gear from our car and letting my parents know my plans, I struck out along the sand.
There’s just something about fishing, be it in a stream, lake, or ocean. Some people like to curl up with a cup of tea, or read a good book, or watch the sunrise; they use that time to think and to appreciate the moment. I love fishing for those same reasons. It’s meditative. There’s nothing quite like standing in a creek at sunset, casting a fly into a deep pool, listening to nature and breathing in life.
Whenever I was in Montauk, my fishing spot of choice was a long jetty that swept out over the ocean. While the fish I tended to catch there were of the small pan variety, they still tasted good. The pier was only sparsely populated when I arrived. I walked the long stretch out to the end, finding that I had the entire section past the weathered gazebo all to myself. I soon had the line prepped and cast out into the waves. It was still a few hours before lunchtime, so I settled into my chair.
I tried to relax out of my funk, but the remnant of my irritation changed over into embarrassment as I relived the morning’s events. Surely Julie thought I was ridiculous. She hadn’t made much effort to hide her giggling when I was standing there in my underwear. I didn’t care about Lara seeing me like that; the two of us were pretty immodest around each other in private. But Julie? She’d been Lara’s best friend in Montauk since forever, but my interactions with her had always been minimal. That our first meeting this year came under such awkward circumstances made my face heat up again. I wondered what they were saying about me as they lay on the beach. Giggling was surely involved.
An hour and a bucketful of pan fish later, I started regretting my choice of a long-sleeve shirt. It was getting too hot even with the sleeves rolled up. When I caught sight of someone walking past the gazebo with their fishing gear in hand, I started packing up. Ever since some old dog talked my ear off for two hours about politics the year before, I tried to avoid unsolicited fishing companions. If I wanted to hear incessant talking, I could return home and listen to my aunt and mothers go on all day long.
“Any luck?” came the voice, as I was kneeling before my gear.
I looked up, startled to find a cute girl in overalls smiling down at me. Maybe an uninvited fishing companion wouldn’t be so bad after all.
I stood up all at once, in the process kneeing my bucket and sending it tumbling. A jet of water splashed toward the girl. She nimbly dodged it as my fish scattered over the deck and started flopping around.
“Oh, crap! Sorry,” I blurted out, scrambling for the escapees. Idiot!
“I take that to be a yes,” she remarked, laughing. “You didn’t have to show me like that, though!”
The girl grabbed for the desperate fish too. We gathered them up, but not before half of them had fallen through the cracks between the planks and back to their home. For the third time that day my face started to prickle.
“Well, there goes lunch,” I muttered, half to myself. I felt stupid as I put the last fish in the pail and stood up again, more carefully this time.
“You can get some more,” she suggested.
I peered down at the fish we’d salvaged. Lacking water now, their gills heaved as they struggled to breathe. I could sympathize with that feeling.
“I guess. It’s getting hot though.”
“Probably because you’re in a long-sleeved shirt.”
“Yeah, well… It was cooler when I got here.”
I started busily cleaning my fishing rod. I rarely cleaned my pole, but suddenly it seemed vitally important. When she didn’t reply, I looked up at her.
Her eyes! They were alight with laughter. There was so much life in them! I stared for a second, or more, before I realized what I was doing. I turned my attention back to my tackle.
“I’ve never seen you here before,” she said, baiting her hook as she set up nearby.
“That’s because I don’t live here. Just on vacation. I got here last night.”
“From where?”
“The Catskills. It’s in upstate New York?”
“I know. I go skiing up there a lot.”
“That’s cool.”
There was an awkward silence as she cast out her line. I finished packing up my stuff and stood there, considering the situation as I pretended to scan the ocean for something unseen. Now that the angler had turned out to be a cute girl, I really wanted to stay. But I’d just made a show of putting all my gear away. It would look ridiculous to unpack and start fishing again. Ridiculous, and unduly obvious as to why I’d changed my mind.
“I have to go,” I said quickly. “Good luck!”
“Always!” she replied without turning.
I waited for a few seconds, hoping she would turn so I could see her eyes once more, but I didn’t have luck. I picked up my gear and walked back to my aunt’s house. The whole way there, I berated myself for not staying. I cringed every time I thought of knocking the bucket over and almost getting her wet.
Hans had the grill going when I returned to the house. My fish were a welcomed addition to the striped bass steaks he was preparing. I left out the part about losing half of my catch. As I helped set the table, I was lost in thought, replaying the pier scene over and over. Several times, the adults had to get my attention, yanking me back to the present.
The pan fish were tasty but hardly more than an appetizer, given their diminished numbers. Regardless, Hans stuffed himself with fish and potatoes. He ate like a pig, but was very trim, a benefit of being a tennis pro. His and Sarah’s ancestry (and thus partly mine) was German and Norwegian, and they both looked it. Sarah was statuesque. She had the same green eyes and blonde hair as Hans, although the sinewy toughness of her brother was well tempered by the curves that come from female genes.
Melissa was chatting with Aunt Beth. Their twin pairs of eyes always seemed like they were hiding some mischief, and usually they were. Lara had the same impishness in her eyes, though she looked more like our father, with jet black hair and round eyes.
Julie joined us for lunch. She and Lara were deep in conversation, so I took the opportunity to observe her a bit more. I’d avoided meeting her eyes in Lara’s room that morning, so I hadn’t noticed that she’d really matured since our previous trip. Her sandy-blonde hair was now shoulder length and framed her face in a good way, I thought. Last year’s young appearance and somewhat gangly body had now filled out in the right places. I took in her pretty features for a few moments.
“Earth to Matt!” Aunt Beth called. She glanced at Julie and then at me again. “Pass the potatoes, please?” she asked, her eyes twinkling.
How long was I staring? Luckily, Julie hadn’t noticed.
The next morning I awoke early. After a long night of reliving my clumsiness with both Julie and the girl on the pier, I decided to go fishing again to see what might happen. I rushed out of the house with my tackle, ignoring my moms’ calls of “Did you eat anything?”
By seven-thirty, I’d settled into my chair and started mulling over what I would do if she showed up again. A bunch of scenarios that seemed really dorky were all that came to mind. Eventually, I decided to play it by ear.
About an hour later I saw someone approaching from the foot of the pier. Part of me was excited, but the other part wanted to dive into the water and hide. As I peered down the length of boards, I soon realized it was an old man. Reluctantly, I decided to head out in case it was Mr. Talkative from last year. It was a good decision, because the guy set up near me and started to make small talk even as I packed up. I soon excused myself.
As I made my way back to shore, I glanced ahead and felt like screaming. The girl was walking toward the pier! I cursed to myself.
“Hey,” she greeted, stopping near me. “How was the fishing?”
“Uh, it was all right.”
I tipped the bucket and let her peek in. I had about twelve fish.
“Well, that should be enough for one or two,” she remarked.
I frowned. “Nah, they’re pretty big. It’ll feed more than that.”
“Well, if you make it home with all of them, then yeah,” she joked, suppressing her laugh only after half of it tickled my ears.
I felt a blush spreading over my face. “Thanks a lot,” I muttered, staring at the deck.
“No, no! I was just teasing you.” She peered in the pail again, this time nodding very seriously. “That’s a good catch.”
“Okay.”
“Well, I better get them while they’re out,” she chirped, heading down the planks. “Bye!”
I stared after her. So much for the cool dialogue I’d hoped for. I was tempted to call out after her, but my throat wouldn’t make any sound. Finally, I sighed and made the walk home, feeling something in my heart I’d never felt before.
The next two days sucked. I went to the pier both mornings and even though I hung around for hours and caught more fish than usual, she never showed up. I was still hopeful of seeing her again, but frustration was setting in. Why hadn’t I asked her name? Asked if we could hang out? Asked a million other questions? I knew nothing about her. I’d just grunted out two word answers to everything she said!
“Matt, are you okay?” Melissa asked me on the afternoon after my second pier-girl no-show.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I shrugged. I was slouched on the porch couch, staring out at the waves. My guitar was propped in the corner, having been played only for a few minutes.
“You seem preoccupied.”
“I’m okay. Really.”
“You haven’t been out on the beach this year. Is the water too cold?”
“I guess,” I shrugged.
She gave me a long look. I fidgeted with my guitar pick.
“If there’s anything wrong, you can always talk to me, right?”
“I know, Mom. I’m fine though. Just… tired. Or bored, I guess.”
“Bored? Go for a swim with Lara and Julie then. I’m sure they’d love to jump in the waves.”
“Maybe.”
“They’re down there now,” she added, gesturing to the beach.
“I know. I’m just going to chill here for a while.”
“Okay, sweetie. Have some fun while we’re here, okay?”
“I will,” I muttered.
Luckily she let it go at that. How could she help anyway?
For the first time in my life, fishing suddenly didn’t have the same appeal. Rather than enjoying the experience, I was constantly glancing down the length of the pier hoping to spot the girl’s approach. The empty stretch of weathered boards or the sight of a young couple strolling down to the gazebo only made me feel lonelier.
The day after my third session of fishing in solitude, I woke up late and found myself venturing down to the shoreline instead. Perhaps my mom’s words had sunk in. Julie and Lara were face down on their towels, bronzing in the late morning sun. My quiet arrival went unnoticed, so I picked up some dry sand and sprinkled a bit onto Lara’s back. At first, there was no reaction. Then she swatted awkwardly at an imagined fly. Finally, her head turned toward me as she realized that it was some special kind of annoyance.
“Matt! What the hell?” she blurted out.
I laughed, but not before I dodged a fistful of beach tossed in my direction. Julie watched us with amusement.
“Thanks a lot,” Lara hissed as she rose to her feet. She eyed me pointedly. “Now the sand is stuck to my suntan lotion.”
She was futilely trying to brush the offending prank from her back. I sniggered and then reached over to assist her.
“Oh, don’t bother,” she snapped, swatting my hand away.
I shrugged. “Just trying to help.”
Lara gave me a frown. “Next time, you can help by not putting sand on me!”
“Whatever.”
“Why aren’t you fishing?” Julie asked me.
I shrugged. “Didn’t feel like it. Too hot, I guess.”
“You should take a swim then.”
“Maybe.”
“Well, I have to get in the water now,” Lara huffed. “Come on, let’s swim a bit.”
Julie hopped up and the three of us walked down the warm sand to the sea’s edge. The first wave that washed over our feet elicited a shriek from the girls.
“Cold!”
“Haven’t you been in yet today?” I asked.
“No, not yet,” Julie answered.
“We were trying to get some tanning in,” Lara drawled dramatically.
“And I was trying to get some sleep in, the other day,” I retorted.
“Oh, give it up, Matt!” Lara cried. “That was like a week ago.”
She splashed me by kicking at the froth of a receding breaker. The spray hit me full across the middle, and indeed, the water was cold. I promptly waded in, deciding to act brave.
“It’s nice,” I called out as I sunk into the swells and pushed out to deeper waters.
After they exchanged a few words I couldn’t hear, the girls ventured in, hesitating with each wave that reached for them. I found myself watching Julie whenever her attention was focused on the ocean. She was cute, turning her back to the approaching breakers and holding her hands open at her sides as if she could stop the water before it splashed higher on her body. These repeated glances at her bikini-clad form quickly became addictive. A few times I found myself caught by her brown eyes as she turned toward me. I had to wrench my gaze away.
Eventually the girls were deep enough to get caught by a larger swell that soaked them. The ice finally broken, they waded out nearer to me, just past where the waves began to curl into white tops.
“I don’t think I’ll be in here very long,” Julie said after a minute.
“Yeah,” Lara agreed. “I think the sand is off me now.”
“It’s not that bad,” I said, even though I was freezing too. “You just need to keep moving to stay warm.”
I waded closer to Lara, who gave me a suspicious look.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“You want to jump?”
Lara was still wary, even though it was something we usually did when we swam. She glanced at Julie. “We’re not ten anymore, Matt.”
I was somewhat stung by the reply, but I just shrugged it off. “All right.”
“I’ll do it,” Julie said after a moment.
My insides lurched. Despite secretly hoping for this chance, I felt nervous as she swam toward me. She put her foot in my intertwined hands and steadied herself by holding my shoulders. With a heave, she flew into the air, limbs flailing, and landed awkwardly in the water. She came up spluttering and Lara and I both laughed.
“Wow, perfect form, Julie,” Lara teased, suddenly interested in the game. “Here, let me show you how it’s done.”
She was even more ungraceful, since her foot slipped out of my hands before I’d pushed her all the way up.
“Ha, that was so weak!” Julie teased, as she grabbed my shoulders again.
Notwithstanding the fact that my arms were starting to burn from the cold water and the effort of lifting them, I wasn’t going to turn down the opportunity to be close to Julie. Her skin is so smooth!
Eventually, even the exercise was not enough to keep the penetrating chill of the water at bay, so we retreated to the sand again. The girls returned to lie on their towels. Not having the same luxury available to me, I stood awkwardly nearby for a moment, wondering what to do. Standing there staring at Julie’s bottom was probably not the smartest option, attractive as it was.
“I’m, uh, going to go eat something. I’ll see you later,” I announced.
“Bye, Matt,” Julie said happily.
Lara was silent as I walked up the sand toward my aunt’s steps. I realized I hadn’t thought about the girl at the pier for at least an hour.
My sudden obsession with the fishing girl had diminished, so swimming with Julie and Lara became my activity of choice. Even though initially I felt some discomfort at being in a bathing suit around Julie, I realized she was just as exposed as I was when we were out on the beach. And I found that fact to be quite enjoyable, even if I was subtle about my gawking. Yeah, definitely not gangly anymore…
One morning, as I sat on the beach next to Lara, I noticed Julie was approaching with a friend walking at her side.
“Who’s that guy?” I asked.
Lara pushed herself up a little, squinting as she scanned the expanse of sand. It took her a moment to pick out the couple I meant.
“Oh, that’s James. Remember him?”
I soon did. “The Scottish kid?”
“Mm hmm. Yummy!”
I sniggered, raising a brow at her. “Yummy?”
“Yeah, he’s super cute!”
I’d met this kid the year before during the town’s fireworks display. He seemed cool enough, but as they neared I felt a little anxious.
“Looks like he’s together with Julie,” I muttered.
“No, he’s not,” Lara said simply.
Julie waved happily to us. “You remember James from last summer, right?”
“Hi James,” Lara greeted, smiling up at him.
“Hey Lara.” He nodded at me. “Matt.”
“What’s up,” I replied, trying to match the depth of his voice. There was no competing with the accent, though.
I watched Lara make eyes at him as they spread their towels out. Julie ended up next to Lara and James put his towel beyond Julie’s.
“So last night Meghan called me and she was totally drunk…” James said, starting a story about someone I’d never heard of.
The towel arrangement was great for Lara and Julie, since they were in the middle, but I felt quite far away from the three of them. I listened to the drama with mild interest, but soon found myself missing the mood of the past few days that I’d spent with just the two girls alone. Even after the four of us moved to the water for a swim, there was no escaping the aloofness that I felt.
Although I liked James well enough, his presence dampened the fun I had with Julie, tame as it was. The next morning, when I spotted him and Julie waiting out on the sand for Lara and me, I decided to go fishing instead.
There was perhaps another reason for the activity switch. The obsession with the girl at the pier had not fully receded, after all; I found myself wondering if I was really going there just to catch lunch.
Some apprehension about the possibility of seeing her welled up as I neared the jetty. I considered turning back, wondering if I’d have more fun hanging with Julie after all. I was actually in the mood to fish, though, so I walked out along the boards.
About halfway out to the end, I heard someone call out behind me. I turned to find the girl hurrying to catch up with me. A surge of nervous excitement swept through me, as I realized that we were actually traveling in the same direction for once. There was no excuse now: we were going to spend some time fishing together at last. As she approached, I had to steady myself.
“Hey!” she greeted brightly, as she plopped her gear down and caught her breath.
“What’s up?”
“You haven’t been around the last few days. I thought maybe you went back home.”
“Nah, I just had some stuff to do. At the house.”
“I’m sorry I teased you the other day. I hope you’re not mad.” She seemed sincere.
“No, it’s fine,” I dismissed, looking around. “I was the one who knocked my fish over like a retard.”
“That was pretty funny,” she agreed with a chuckle. “Want to fish together?”
“Um, sure.”
We headed down the pier. I grew quiet as I considered what to talk about. The girl seemed entirely comfortable with the silence, but by the time we reached the end of the jetty my head was a jumble of stupid things I probably shouldn’t say out loud. We set up in a corner, away from the other people there.
“Um, you weren’t here the last two times I was here a few days ago,” I blurted out, as I threw my bucket over the rail. After it splashed down, I started hoisting up the rope that was tied to its handle. Great, I thought, now she thinks I’m a stalker. But everything else that came to mind seemed worse.
“I had to work,” she said simply.
“Oh… Where do you work?” I asked. I poured some of the water from my pail into hers.
“Oh, thanks! I work down at the fish market.”
“That’s cool. What do you do?”
“Everything. Mostly cleaning and selling fish. My parents own the place.”
“Which market?”
“Martin’s. It’s down by the charter docks, on the water.”
“Yeah, I know the one. We buy fish there sometimes.”
We baited up and cast out. I was hoping the fishing would ease my nerves, but the silence felt even more uncomfortable now that we were just standing there holding our poles. Finally I started thinking straight and remembered that she knew the area where I lived.
“So where do you ski? You said you go up to the Catskills a lot?”
“Well, not as much as I want. Usually we go to Windham, or Hunter. Sometimes we ski in Vermont, too.”
“That’s a long ride from here.”
“Yeah, but we go for a week at a time. Do you ski?” she asked.
“Yeah. Same places, pretty much.”
“You’re lucky to live nearby.”
“Yeah, that makes it easy. We’re about ten minutes from Hunter.”
“Hah, looks like I’ll be taking home some lunch!”
She pulled in a fish, deftly unhooked it, and plopped it in her bucket. I gazed at her as she smiled at me. Her eyes are beautiful! That’s all I needed to see to suddenly start feeling better again.
“Don’t you get as many fish as you want through your store?” I asked, snapping out of my stare.
“Sure.”
“So why do you fish?”
“Why do you fish?” she echoed.
“I don’t know,” I said slowly. “I guess I like the peace. It’s fun. I can catch my own food. Lots of reasons.”
“Mm hmm.” She cast out again.
I looked at her when she didn’t answer. “What about you?”
“Same. Hey, two-zip.”
“What?”
“Got another one.” Indeed, she pulled up her second fish.
“I didn’t know it was a contest,” I said, laughing slightly.
“It’s not. But I’m still winning!”
We spent the next hour in relative quiet, with occasional small talk. Eventually, after she’d pulled in about eleven fish, she had to head out for work. I’d only caught three, even though we were on the same bait and standing a few feet from each other. We walked back to the shore together, stopping when I had to turn down the beach to go home.
“Will you be back tomorrow?” she asked.
“Um, yeah, probably in the morning,” I replied.
“I think I’ll come in the afternoon then.”
“Oh, okay. Maybe I’ll see you some other time then.” I studied my tackle box as my stomach sank to my feet. I looked up at her when she laughed out loud.
“I was just kidding. Don’t take me so seriously!”
I felt heat in my face, but didn’t say anything.
“I’ll come tomorrow morning, too. What time will you be here?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe nine?”
“Cool. See you then!”
I stood there in a amazement as she walked off. Had she just said she would come in the morning? She turned and smiled once, before going around the corner and disappearing. I practically ran home.
That afternoon I was floating on air and obviously talking more than usual. Melissa noticed.
“What’s gotten into you?” she asked, glancing up from her Gourmet magazine as we lounged on the beach.
“What do you mean?”
“I haven’t seen you this happy in a while.”
“Had a good fishing morning, I guess.”
“Really… Three fish is a good fishing morning?” she asked, suddenly more interested.
“I caught more but didn’t bring them home,” I replied without missing a beat.
I avoided her stare, getting the feeling that she knew what was going on, though probably she had the wrong girl in mind. Whenever she smiled and got that mischievous look in her eyes, she knew. Before she had the chance to probe any further, I rose from my towel.
“I’m going to swim.”
Melissa nodded knowingly. “Mm hmm.”
Julie and Lara were bored, standing in chest-deep water. The waves were small and they weren’t having any luck trying to ride them. I waded out and tackled Julie, eliciting a surprised squeak. My hands brushed across her breast, but I didn’t care. After I threw her through the air, I gave my sister the same treatment.
“Matt!” they screeched as they resurfaced, splashing water at me.
“Don’t splash me!” I yelled back, sending jets their way.
The situation turned difficult when they decided to gang up on me. Not that I was complaining! Having Julie try to wrestle me underwater was definitely not a problem. I could feel her breasts pressed into my back and her legs wrapped around mine as she tried to trip me up. Lara was pulling on my neck from the side and eventually we all crashed into the sea.
After a while I waded away, since Julie’s touches were becoming more and more physical. I couldn’t really control my arousal and there was great danger of a stray hand touching something that would give it away. The girls made chase for a bit, but I was too fast. I settled into a lazy float about twenty feet from them. They whispered conspiratorially for a while, punctuating the conference with occasional giggles. I just enjoyed the water and watched the people on the beach, pretending to ignore them.
“Okay, we won’t splash you, if you don’t splash us,” Lara announced after some time.
“Sure.” I kept my distance despite the offer.
“Come on. Truce?” she proposed, holding out her hand.
I eyed it warily. I’d cooled off down below, so I waded back and shook Lara’s hand. “Fine, truce.”
They started talking about Madonna, probably just to rile me up. I was in such a good mood, though, that I even joined in the conversation. Imagine that! After a brief silence, Lara announced that she had to use the bathroom. Julie stayed behind as my sister waded out. Suddenly, I felt a familiar nervousness.
“You’re in a good mood,” Julie observed.
“It happens sometimes.”
“I like it,” she said a bit coyly.
I shrugged and gave her a small smile.
“Sorry about that first morning,” she said. “I didn’t know you were sleeping.”
“It’s not your fault. Lara knew I was asleep. She was just being Lara.”
“Did you really borrow her True Blue cassette?” she asked after a pause.
Great, my favorite topic. I might as well fess up.
“Yeah, I admit it. I borrowed it. I was like eight, and I didn’t know any better.”
Julie’s face scrunched up in disbelief. “You were not eight! That album only came out a couple of years ago. I was twelve when I got it, so you were at least that old.”
“Maybe I was nine,” I hemmed. “Whatever.”
“I think it’s cute.”
“Cute?”
“Yeah, you were into Madonna,” she giggled.
“Um, not really. It was a brief phase. Like one or two days.”
“That’s not what Lara said. She—”
“Next topic,” I interrupted, not liking the direction the conversation was headed. Normally I would’ve wanted to crawl under a rock by then, but my mood was still high so I as able to shrug it off.
“Okay. What’s the next topic?” Julie asked. The waves had pushed her closer to me.
“Anything but Madonna.”
“How about Duran Duran?”
“Give me a break!” I retorted, but I knew she was kidding when I glanced at her. She had such a great smile, lighting up her face. She’s really pretty. Her light freckles accented gorgeous features, including those big brown eyes. I boldly gazed at her for a few seconds before self-consciousness got the better of me and I turned my eyes back to shore.
“Where’s Lara?” I asked. “She’s sure taking her time!”
A rare swell lifted us. Suddenly, just as I caught sight of my sister coming out of the house, I was pulled underwater. I breathed in a big gulp of air as the smooth arms that had squeezed around my chest abruptly let go of me. Except, I was still underwater.
I flailed about and finally got above the surface. My eyes, throat and nose all stung from the salt inhalation. Julie was laughing hard and shaking water out of her eyes. Or maybe they were tears of mirth. I coughed for a long while, unable to retaliate as I spit out more burning bits of the sea.
“I thought we had a truce!” I finally cried out.
“You and Lara did!” she corrected.
“So this bathroom ploy was just to get me back?”
“Maybe,” she evaded, though the glint in her eyes gave it away.
I splashed her back, starting another huge fight. It continued with me tackling Julie, gripping her waist tightly. Lara arrived somewhere in the middle of the melee amid much shrieking. Eventually the girls combined to overwhelm me with seawater. I escaped and made my way out of the battleground and onto the beach.
“Wuss!” cried out Lara, as the girls whooped in victory behind me.
I ignored them and headed inside to grab a soda to clear the salty acridity. Back on the sand with a Coke, I watched Lara and Julie sitting cross-legged in the shallows, talking conspiratorially and occasionally glancing over at me. They’re probably planning their next water fight. I was looking forward to it.
“Having fun?” Melissa asked, peering at me from behind her magazine.
I just shrugged nonchalantly.
After dinner that evening, I went to my room to play my guitar and watch the sunset from my window, since the adults were hogging the porch. It was shaping up to be a particularly nice one, given the cloud formations. I was interrupted by a knock.
“What?” I called out.
Julie and Lara pushed into my room and closed the door. This struck me as odd. They also had a beach bag with towels in it.
“No way, I’m not going back in the water,” I said, before they could speak.
“Oh, come on, Matt. I know you want to go to the beach,” Lara drawled. She lifted the edge of the towel, allowing me to see the contents of the bag.
“Where did you get that?” I asked quietly.
“Jack bought us two bottles of whiskey this afternoon. So let’s go?”
Jack was a Montauk resident, twenty-one, and reportedly a major party animal. He’d had some run-ins with the law involving minors and alcohol, but apparently these incidents hadn’t convinced him to rethink anything. He was also Julie’s older brother.
I hesitated for a second. Lara and I were no strangers to drinking. When our mothers hosted food and wine parties at our house, Lara and I would have a few friends over, too, staying out of the way of the adults. These movie nights were held in our small guest cabin that sat behind our house, and they usually involved some drinking. We had an intermittent source of alcohol through my friend Brian and his older brother, so we usually kept a small stash of beers and liquor in a cairn in the woods.
Often, my tendency for quietness led me to drink somewhat heavily at these get-togethers. Although at home I could sneak into my room through our side door and avoid the questions of my mothers, I usually felt like crap the next day. My aunt’s house had no such surreptitious entrance, and besides, I wasn’t sure I wanted to suffer that way the next morning. After all I had a d—well, a ‘meeting’ at nine to fish with a certain someone.
“I don’t know, Lara,” I said warily.
“Don’t worry. Everyone is going out to a bar tonight. We’ll be back before them.”
“Um…”
“Get up. We’re meeting James at the pier soon.”
“All right,” I said, still a bit reluctant. “Let’s go.”
I vowed to control myself.
Sure enough the next morning I felt like crap. I rolled over in bed, trying to force some moisture back in my mouth. It was useless: I was totally dehydrated. Finally, I rose to fetch some water from the bathroom. My room seemed like it was on springs. I fought through blurry vision to check my watch.
“Shit!” I hissed. It was nine-thirty. At nine, I was supposed to have met the ‘pier girl’, as I’d started thinking of her.
To my surprise, I found Lara in the bathroom. She looked like hell. From the appearance of the guy in the mirror, I figured I looked about as good as she did. I suddenly resented her for dragging me out the night before.
“I feel like crap,” I said pointedly, as I swished water into my mouth.
“You’ll live,” she dismissed, sitting down to pee.
“Oh thanks, I didn’t know that.” I took a few deep breaths. “I have to go.”
“Chill, I’m almost done,” she replied.
“No, I mean I have to go out.”
“Where?”
“Fishing. I was meeting someone at nine,” I explained absently, before thinking.
“Who?” she asked, glancing up at me suspiciously.
“Oh, some… some dude that I was talking to yesterday,” I fibbed, perhaps a bit too quickly. “He plays guitar,” I added, hoping the story would ring more true.
I wasn’t really sure why I lied. My sister and I were pretty close, despite our occasional spats. For some reason, though, I didn’t feel like telling her about the pier girl. Not yet, anyway.
“You should’ve thought of that last night and set an alarm.”
“Pfft. I don’t even know if I would’ve set it right.”
“Yeah, probably right,” she sniffed. “Oh well, too late now. Anyway, me and Julie and James are going to take the bikes and ride around later. Do you want to come?”
I considered her for a second. “I’ll see what’s going on. I don’t know if I can even ride a bike today. If I can make it to the pier without falling on my face it’ll be a victory.”
“You can go back to bed, you know. Guitar man can wait.”
“I’m up now.”
“Well, we’re going biking around two or three, so be back by then if you want to come.”
As I traversed the length of the pier, I was relieved to see her standing down at the end. I felt excited, but also nervous since I was almost an hour late.
“Hey,” I called out as I neared.
She turned and gazed at me. There’s no anger in her eyes, I thought, reassured.
“You’re late,” she stated.
“Sorry,” I said sheepishly.
“I don’t think I can fish with you.”
I stared back at her. There’s no laughter in her eyes either, I suddenly noticed.
“Um, why? I’m sorry. I overslept.”
“You said nine, and I already got nine fish, so I don’t think I can fish with you after all.”
I stood there for second, fidgeting with my fishing rod. “Okay, I’m sorry.” I bent down and picked up my tackle box, red-faced.
She considered me for a second and then burst out laughing. “Didn’t you hear what I said, yesterday?”
“What?” I replied, utterly confused.
“Don’t take everything I say so seriously!”
“I didn’t… I didn’t know! I thought maybe you were pissed at me or something!”
“No, I was just teasing you! Come on, get your pole ready. You have a long way to catch up. The score’s eleven to two!”
I hurriedly baited up and cast out, relieved that I hadn’t messed up too badly. Eleven to two? I remembered catching three fish the previous day, but I was too embarrassed to correct her.
“So, long night last night?” she asked, once I’d settled against the railing.
“How did you guess?” I muttered.
“Your eyes are red. You look tired,” she explained. “And you’re an hour late.”
“Yeah, thanks for reminding me.”
“Good party?”
“Nah. Just hung out with my sister and her friends. They had a bottle of Jack, and… well, things got a little out of hand.”
“Ah.” There was a brief silence. “How old are your sister and her friends?” she asked.
“Not twenty-one, that’s for sure… Fourteen.”
“So how did you manage the alcohol? Steal it from your dad’s liquor cabinet?”
“No, my sister’s friend. Her brother bought it for us. He bought it for her, actually, and she shared it with us. He’s old enough.” My words felt mushy.
“Jack Laetsch,” she said simply.
I frowned at her. “Yeah, how did you know?”
“Sounds just like him. I know Julie, too. We go to the same school.”
Suddenly this girl seemed much older than me. I felt like a five-year-old talking about the candy I stole.
“How old are you?” she asked, as if reading my thoughts.
I hesitated for a moment, tempted to inflate my age.
“Fourteen also,” I said at last.
“So you and your sister are twins?” she asked, turning toward me with new interest.
“No.”
“Wow. Then your mom had you really close together.”
“We’re only about a week apart.”
She gave me a quizzical look before realizing. “Oh, so she’s your stepsister?”
“Yeah, basically,” I said quickly.
I didn’t like explaining my family situation to people who I didn’t know well. The girl must have sensed it because she changed the topic back to my lateness.
“So basically you’re saying you went out partying with some girls and whiskey, and then you stood me up in the morning?”
I was about to make some lame excuse when I glanced at her. All the mirth was in her eyes and this time I finally remembered what she’d said.
“Yeah, that’s it exactly. I’m a busy man, you know?” I declared with as much humor as I could muster.
She laughed more than I expected. “You’re funny.”
I didn’t think I was particularly humorous, but I was happy that she thought so.
We spent the next two hours hanging out. Eventually, after she’d caught twenty-six fish, she put her rod down and asked if she could sit in my chair, since I was still standing at the rail.
“Help yourself. I have a long way to go.”
I’d only caught three.
“You know, you suck at fishing,” she remarked cheerily.
“What the—?” Again I saw the mischief in her eyes.
“I caught almost twenty in the last two hours. You only have two fish.”
“Three,” I corrected.
“All right, three. Whatever. That’s still weak.”
She was right, of course. I turned and gave her a level look. “I usually have better luck. I think you must be bad luck.”
She pouted. “Ouch, that hurt!”
“No, I was just kidding,” I said quickly, feeling bad.
She smiled, the pout evaporating in an instant. “I know. I was just joking back, silly.”
She giggled quietly. I let out a breath, somewhat exasperated. Her teasing was merciless. Before I could pull in any more fish, she stood up and stretched.
“Well, I have to get to work. Here, take some of my fish,” she offered, reaching for her bucket.
“Um, thanks, but I can catch my own.”
She shrugged, unconvinced. “If you say so… Suit yourself, then. I’ll be here tomorrow at nine,” she announced, as she gathered up her things.
“Cool. I’ll come by, too.”
“We’ll see about that. Maybe I’ll see you, maybe not!” She walked off down the pier before I could answer.
That afternoon I tagged along with Melissa as she ran some errands. I needed a new guitar string, and she had to pick up some supplies from the hardware store and some food for the evening meal. I was daydreaming about my wonderful morning and didn’t think anything of her route until we were walking through a parking lot near the boat docks, heading for a fish market. It was Martin’s Fish Market, I realized as we were already nearing the door. I thought about waiting outside, but that would’ve been odd, since I always liked going in to see the fish selection.
I steeled myself and followed my mom inside. Of course, the pier girl was working the counter. She spotted me instantly and smiled mischievously. I pretended to study the fish intently, ignoring her when she grinned at me through the glass display cabinet as she grabbed some swordfish steaks. She finished with the customer ahead of us, so my mom stepped up.
“Hi, can I help you?”
“We need some fish. What’s extra fresh?” asked Melissa.
“Oh, we have lots of good stuff today!” she said cheerily. She ran down the haul from the morning as my mom listened and nodded.
“No luck at the pier today, then?” the girl asked me pointedly.
“Not really,” I said sheepishly.
Melissa looked at me. “Do you two know each other?” she asked, with a touch of surprise and humor in her voice. She already knew the answer, of course.
“Uh, yeah. She was fishing on the pier this morning,” I explained. “When I was there.”
“He was having some trouble catching fish. When I left he only had two.”
“Three,” I muttered to myself. I didn’t even bother mentioning the other one I’d caught after she’d left.
“I offered him some of mine, but he refused,” she continued confidently.
My mom eyed the exchange with a grin. Fortunately she must have sensed my discomfort because she placed her order without further mischief. The pier girl set about collecting the filets while I shifted around. As she rang us up, I thought I’d escaped relatively unscathed. But when we said goodbye and turned to go, she called out to me.
“See you tomorrow morning. Don’t be late again!”
Despite a strong urge to run, I managed to leave at a quick walk. The girl’s use of the word ‘again’ implied much, and my mom was nothing if not sharp. As expected, the car ride was uncomfortable.
“So, you ‘caught some fish you didn’t bring home’ the other day, huh?” my mom asked with a grin. Her eyes were fixed firmly on the road.
“What? No, that’s not what I meant. I mean, she was there, but we just talked for a few minutes. I don’t know her really.” I sounded pretty stupid, I thought. “She just showed up again this morning, too,” I added.
“You’ve only talked for a few minutes, and you already have a date set up for tomorrow, huh? Impressive!”
“It’s not a date!”
“No, of course not. I was just teasing. I’m glad you found someone to fish with who’s your own age. She’s quite charming. What’s her name?”
“I… don’t know,” I said slowly, partly surprised at the answer. I’d thought of it a few times earlier that morning, but it seemed too late. Like we were already beyond names and to ask now would be stupid. Like asking a waiter how much your dish cost after you started eating it.
“Does she play guitar?” my mom asked suddenly.
I frowned at her. “What?”
“Don’t worry. I won’t say anything to Lara,” she said mysteriously.
“What do you mean?”
Another mischievous smile crossed her face. She never looked at me though. “She mentioned you rushing off to meet a guitar player this morning.”
“Oh, yeah, he, uh, didn’t show up,” I deflected, pretending to yawn.
“Ah! Guitar players… So unreliable, always late!”
“Mom!”
I was trying really hard to stifle the butterflies in my stomach. Fortunately we arrived at the house before I dug myself in any deeper.
At three, the girls convinced me to go on their bike trip. They were happy and bright eyed, surprisingly well recovered from the morning hangover. As I pulled the bikes from my uncle’s garage, I recalled the events of the previous night. The addition of alcohol certainly made hanging out as a foursome more amusing. James was a pretty funny guy, I had to admit. And I thought I’d managed a few good lines myself.
“Was your friend pissed?” asked Lara, as we started out biking along the beach road.
“What?” I muttered absently.
“Your friend that you were meeting. Guitar man?”
“Oh, no… Actually, he didn’t show up.”
Lara laughed. “Shame. You got up for nothing. Should’ve stayed in bed.”
“I guess.”
I changed the subject before any further explanation became necessary.
That night I did set my alarm, so the next morning I was walking down the pier at eight-thirty, a half-hour early. She was already there, though, with her line in the water.
“You’re late,” she called out, not even turning to look at me.
“But you said n—” I stopped when I reached the rail and saw her grin. I was learning. Slowly, but I was.
“Was that your mom yesterday?”
I hesitated. “Yeah.”
“How come you didn’t tell her about me?” she asked, her tone wounded.
“Um, I don’t know,” I said awkwardly.
“You could’ve at least introduced us,” she chided, a glint in her eye as she suddenly turned her piercing gaze onto me.
I stared back at her for a long moment, both enchanted and petrified. “I don’t know your name,” I finally admitted.
“Oh, that’s right!”
I waited as she returned her attention to the sea, working her line with particular intent.
“So?” she asked expectantly.
“So what?”
“Aren’t you going to ask my name?”
I could sense the friendly challenge in her voice. I felt like teasing her for a change. Besides, she didn’t know my name, so in this area at least we were on equal footing. A little friendly teasing, and later we could exchange names like trading hostages.
“I don’t know,” I murmured. “Maybe I won’t.”
“Come on, I know you want to know my name,” she goaded.
I did, of course. But now that it had become a talking point… Give her a taste of her own medicine!
“Nah, I don’t need to know it,” I scoffed. I started to bait my hook, acting nonchalant.
She considered me for a moment more.
“Fine, suit yourself, Matt.”
I managed to skewer my finger with the pointed barb, wincing in pain. What the hell? I pretended that nothing had happened, although a drop of blood blossomed as I pulled the hook out. I heard a suppressed chuckle from her as she saw me lick my wound.
“Ah, look, Matt: first one today,” she announced cheerily, as she pulled in a fish. “A lovely day, don’t you think, Matt?”
How the hell does she know my name? It was possible that I’d said it on the first day we met, but I really doubted it. I had vivid memories of spilling my bucket and the resulting awkward encounter. Exchanging names was definitely not part of it. Neither had it been brought up during our subsequent fishing sessions.
A million questions streamed through my head as I finally put my line together and cast out. In the confusion of my thoughts, though, I forgot to disengage the reel lock. Never a good thing. The line whipped around chaotically until it tangled into a messy clump around the tip of the rod. My bait flew off the hook from the whiplash and splashed into the ocean.
“Nice cast, Matt!” I heard her say.
I groaned. The familiar sensation of a beet red face was creeping up on me. I didn’t know what to say, so I stayed quiet and went about untangling my line. My playful confidence sank out of sight as quickly as my wasted bait.
By the time I was ready to cast again, she’d already caught three more fish. She loudly proclaimed each one with glee, always using my name in the announcement. Despite her endless teasing, though, there was such fun in her voice that I couldn’t help but laugh with her when I managed to tangle my line yet again.
“Oh, I give up,” I moaned, plopping down in my chair and dropping my rod to the deck with a clatter. “So what is your name?”
“You said, ‘I don’t need to know’,” she mimicked in a low voice.
I laughed. “All right, so I did. But now I do want to know your name. I was just playing around with you.”
“And so am I.”
I resigned myself to the fact that I’d lost control of my own game.
“Okay, so at least tell me how you know my name?” I pleaded.
“I don’t know your name.” She turned to me, smiling. “Is your name Matt?”
“Well, yeah! You just said it, like, a hundred times in the last ten minutes.”
“I guessed it!” she crowed.
“No way! That’s impossible,” I dismissed. “I must’ve said it the other day.”
“Nope. You never told me your name. I’m just a really good guesser.”
I watched her for a moment as she scrunched her face up at me. “Do you always tease people like this?”
“Nope. Just you,” she said simply, as she reeled in another fish. She flashed me a smile that I couldn’t help but return.
That afternoon as I sat on the beach, I wondered what the heck was wrong with me. After two hours of everything from random guessing to outright begging, I still didn’t know the pier girl’s name. My game had backfired badly. I was constantly being teased and did foolish things left and right when she was around. Yet I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I had no idea of her age or anything. All I knew is that she worked at her family’s store, her dad was probably named Martin, and that she liked to fish. And that somehow, she managed to make me forget how to fish. I’d caught one that morning. One. She’d taken twelve of them home, even as she offered to share.
Despite her teasing, my obsession with the pier girl was threatening to return. Well no… In reality, it already had. She had soaked into my mind so thoroughly that I could barely function.
Unfortunately, she had to work the next few days, so fishing again held no interest in the morning. When I went down to the beach, Lara and James were already floating in the water. Julie was nowhere to be seen. As I spread out my towel and kicked off my flip-flops, I caught Julie’s voice coming down from the house.
“They’re already out swimming,” Sarah told her.
I waited for Julie to emerge from the porch. She was wearing my favorite swimsuit. I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of excitement as I watched her walk along the sand toward me, smiling cheerily.
“You’re here!” she chirped excitedly.
I nodded, surprised at how happy that seemed to make her.
“Too hot to fish?” she asked, knowing my usual excuse.
“Yeah. Thought I’d swim a little.”
Julie eyed the waves as she put down her beach bag. While she wriggled out of her shorts, I spread her towel out for her so I wouldn’t just be standing there gawking at her while she undressed. For some reason I felt myself blush slightly at the act of helping this way.
“Oh, thanks, Matt!”
“No problem. Ready to swim?”
“I’m going to get some sun first, I think,” she said, after considering the water again.
“Okay.”
She dug through her bag. There was nothing to do besides watch her, this time. In fact, I had trouble taking my eyes off of her. She found her suntan lotion at last.
“Are you going in?” she asked.
“Um… I guess I’ll lay out,” I ventured, hoping I wasn’t being too forward.
“Cool!” she chirped. She opened the cap and held the bottle out to me. “Need some?”
“I’ll be all right,” I dismissed, waving the offer away.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I don’t really burn.”
“You do tan nicely,” she cooed. Then she seemed to realize her words and the tone she’d used. It was hard to tell in the bright sun, but her face seemed to turn a bit red for a moment as she turned away.
She busily rubbed the lotion on her limbs as I waited on my towel. Though my gaze was directed toward the waves, my attention was definitely focused on my peripheral vision!
“Um, would you, uh, like, put some on my back? I can’t reach the middle. Lara usually does it, but…”
I turned to Julie, shielding my eyes from the sun and trying desperately to tame the images that were flashing through my head.
“Sure.” I spread a blob of cream between my fingers and gingerly applied it to the smooth skin between her two pieces of clothing, thrilled at touching her in this way. Maybe having James distract Lara isn’t so bad after all. I reminded myself that I was just putting on suntan lotion, but it was exciting nonetheless.
“Are you sure you don’t want some?” she asked, when I finished.
“I’m good.”
I thought she seemed disappointed. Does she want to return the favor?
Images of the pier girl’s face flashed into my mind as we settled onto our towels. What if she comes walking along the beach this morning? No, she was working, of course. Besides, it’s not like Julie and I were together. Nor was I with the pier girl, I reminded myself.
“What are you thinking about?”
The question caught me by surprise. “Huh?”
“You were staring off.”
“Oh. I… I was just thinking about home.” It was the first thing that came to mind—Well, no. It was the third thing, after the pier girl and Julie’s body.
“Missing it?”
“No, not really. I like it here.”
Julie smiled. “Me too.”
We absorbed the sun’s rays. My thoughts bounced back and forth between wanting to be on the pier and wanting to be on Julie’s towel with her. The more time I spent with her, the more I was growing to like her. Is she feeling the same way?
But there was something about that girl in the overalls with the lively eyes who liked to fish. Just picturing her face caused a burst of pleasure to rush through my body. I wasn’t sure that I’d be given either choice this summer, but if I had to choose, I knew who it would be.
I had fun with Julie over the next few days, but I didn’t give her any sign that I was open to anything beyond having a good time. I turned down an offer from Lara and her to go to the gazebo and drink from the other bottle of whiskey, since I was going to go fishing early the next morning. The pier girl was supposed to be there and I didn’t think showing up late and hung over again was a good idea. I also didn’t think being with Julie when we were both drunk was a good idea either. Despite feeling in control when applying suntan lotion and tossing her around in the water, I didn’t know if I would be able to resist a direct advance from her, especially under the influence. And there was a small part of me that wondered if maybe an advance might be coming at some point. Then again, the thought was rather implausible.
When I arrived at the pier the following morning, I was relieved to see the nameless girl down at the end. I walked the expanse of planks quickly and chuckled when I passed the gazebo and saw an empty Jack Daniels bottle standing in the corner under the bench. No wonder the girls were still sleeping when I left.
My fishing luck was as bad as usual that morning. But I’d had some time to think, so I was much more relaxed around the pier girl and didn’t react to most of her gentle jibes. There were no tangled lines this time. The morning passed with a comfy mixture of small talk and periods of quiet, but there was a sense of connection that seemed to silently grow between us now.
When we’d had enough of fishing, we slowly ambled back along the pier, quite close to each other. Things seemed different. It was going to be a great summer, I knew. I was confident as we approached our usual parting point.
“So, tomorrow then?”
“Is that an invitation?” she asked coyly.
“Yeah.”
She took a deep breath. “Well, Matt, I’m actually going away tomorrow with my family, so I’m going to have to say no. I’m going to miss it, though.”
“Really?” A tightness sprung to my throat. “How long are you gone for?”
“A few weeks,” she breathed, smiling apologetically. “We’re going to see some relatives in Pennsylvania and Ohio.”
“Well, we’re leaving in about ten days, so… I guess I won’t be here when you get back.”
“Darn. That’s too bad. I really had a good time fishing with you.”
My insecurities started surging up again. It wasn’t like we were going out, but I suddenly felt very lonely and needed to be alone.
“Yeah, I, uh, had a good time too,” I stammered. “Maybe I’ll see you next year, or something?”
“That would be nice. Hey, I better go, or I’ll be even more late for work than I already am.”
“Okay.”
She stood there, looking at me oddly for a moment. “Bye,” she finally murmured. After clearing the expectant air from her face, she came over and gave me the slightest kiss on my cheek. Even though it was the faintest touch, it was as if I’d been zapped with a pulse of electricity.
She stepped back and flashed me a bright smile. “Cheer up. You still have over a week to practice your fishing so you can challenge me next year.”
I laughed despite the hollowness in my stomach. Next year… An eternity.
As she walked away, I called out to her. “Hey, what is your name after all?”
She stopped and turned back to me, the life and laughter full in her eyes. “I’m not telling,” she answered with a grin.
That’s when I realized that she was fully expecting the question, even though I hadn’t thought of it until the moment I asked it.
“But, that reminds me,” she added. “This is yours.” She opened her tackle box and pulled out a folded piece of paper. She carefully unfolded it and placed it on the ground. “Bye, mister Matt Jackson-Birch.”
With a small wave and a resigned determination to her movements, she started stepping backwards, moving further and further away from me, all the while holding my gaze with that impossible smile and those blazing eyes. I watched her, unable to move. I desperately felt like asking if I could come to Pennsylvania, too. But it was obviously an absurd thought.
After she was gone, I walked over and picked up the paper. I stared at it for a second. It was a fishing license. My fishing license, I then realized with a grin. Somehow she’d stolen it from my tackle box. Actually, knowing me, I’d probably forgotten it on the pier one day and she’d grabbed it and used it to her advantage. I never believed that she’d guessed my name out of the blue, but now I knew for sure how she found out.
I still didn’t know her name, though. With a sigh, I stuffed the license back into my tackle box as I peered longingly at the corner she’d disappeared around. I was hoping it was another one of her tricks, but she didn’t come back. She hadn’t been kidding about leaving on her trip.
After waiting for another five minutes, I let go of all hope and walked slowly home, wondering if the hole in the pit of my stomach would go away before we left Montauk… Or ever.
Chapter 2 – In Through the Out Door
I spent the next few melancholy mornings on the pier, trying to recapture the magic of fishing with my erstwhile friend. It was more depressing than therapeutic, even though I was catching three times as many fish as I had when she’d been with me. Eventually, I realized I was still clinging to the hope of seeing her walk down those old boards, even though she was gone. The disheartening feeling of loss became too much, so I stopped going to fish altogether.
Julie and Lara tried to hang out with me, but I wasn’t much in the mood for wild water games. They kept their distance after a few sullen rejections. I played my blues on my guitar and lay low, wondering if there was a way to find out her name. I could ask Julie, but that seemed awkward at best. I considered going into her family fish shop and asking around, but I felt a little weird about doing that, too. Questions like that usually engendered more questions. I didn’t want that. And besides, how would knowing her name help? It wouldn’t bring her back to fish with me. I wasn’t going to see her for at least a year. Probably never again, to be honest. I resigned myself to the situation and just reminisced and self-pitied.
A few nights after the pier girl deserted me, there was a knock on my door. I was on my bed, picking on my guitar. Lara let herself in after I grunted.
“Come on, get up,” she demanded. “You’ve been playing that thing all day.”
“So what?” I muttered.
She stood at the foot of the bed, her face impatient. “We’re going out.”
“Out? Where?”
“Somewhere, anywhere. Come on!”
I didn’t want to move, but maybe getting out would help my loneliness go away for a while. I sat there for a few moments, considering the offer. “All right. Let me put on some clothes. I’ll be out in a bit.”
A little while later, Lara and I started off along the firm, wet sand, walking faster than I wanted. She was excited, gabbing on about something James had told her earlier that day. It was impossible to miss the attraction in her voice as she spoke of the Scottish kid. When we angled off toward the pier, I had a feeling I knew how the night was going to end up. Sure enough, when we reached the gazebo I heard familiar voices in the darkness.
“What took you so long?” Julie asked.
“Matt was being a lazy-ass,” Lara explained.
“Hi Julie,” I greeted, my tone rebuffing Lara’s comment. I nodded at James.
“Hi Matt,” Julie said cheerily. “Have some.”
I grabbed the mostly full bottle from her outstretched hand. As I took a good swig, I found strange pleasure in the burning sensation. I passed the whiskey to James, who was sitting on the top edge of one of the weathered bench backs.
Being on the jetty and buzzed turned out to be a bad mix. Although the walk over with Lara had lifted my spirits a little, after a while I was depressed about the situation with the pier girl again. I kept glancing over at the railing where we used to stand. Even in the darkness, I could see her there like it was mid-morning.
Would she even have told me she was leaving if I hadn’t asked? Or maybe she wasn’t really gone. Maybe she just didn’t want to hang out with me anymore. More than a few thoughts of rejection went through my head as I stared off at the dark water while the three others talked.
“We’re going to walk down to the end,” Lara announced.
James stood up behind her. “Are you two coming?”
Before we could answer, Lara shrieked. “James, quit it!” Evidently he had tickled her.
“I’ll stay here,” I slurred. I wasn’t sure if I should walk down to the railing just then, given my state of drunkenness.
“All right, we’ll be back in a bit.”
James and Lara strolled off. Instead of going with them like I expected, Julie scooted over next to me, propping her legs up on the bench.
“You’re quiet tonight,” she said after some silence.
“I guess. Just in one of those quiet moods.”
“Are you mad at me?” she asked.
“Mad at you?” I turned and looked at her in surprise. “No. Why would you say that?”
“Well, I thought we were having a good time this week,” she said slowly, “and then the last few days you seemed like you didn’t want to be here.”
I took a breath and thought about it. Is she right? I realized that I’d been avoiding hanging out with her and hadn’t considered her feelings. But now I wasn’t sure what to say. Somehow I knew telling her about the pier girl would be the wrong approach.
“Well, I guess I was just in a funk. Still am. But it’s nothing about you. I’ve been having a good time, really.” My words sounded muddy. When she didn’t say anything, I went on. “I’m sorry if it seemed like I was ignoring you. I was just… deep in thought.”
“About what?” she asked gently.
About what? What could I possibly be moody about, being fourteen and on vacation at the beach? I thought for a while, but I could only think of the pier girl, over and over again. Suddenly I was wrestling with every emotion again. Damn. I had to get her out of my head before she drove me mad. I glanced at Julie. Julie… She’s here, right now.
“I don’t know,” I said at last. “I’m sorry I’m being such a downer, though.”
“No you’re not a downer. I’ve had a lot of fun with you this summer,” she said, looking up at me with those big brown eyes.
I kept watching her through the slight fog of the whiskey. She held my gaze, her face inviting.
“Me too,” I murmured.
Julie… I think she likes me.
It was then that it truly hit me: the pier girl was gone, and I was never going to see her again. It wasn’t meant to be and it was pointless to dwell on it. She was far away in Idaho or wherever it was she’d gone, and likely had already forgotten about me. The crazy girl hadn’t even bothered to tell me her name. It was ridiculous, really. By the time she returned to Montauk, I’d be hanging out with my friends back home, getting ready to start high school and who knew what else.