James Mandarin

The Beach

Chloe is knocking at my door. I quickly throw on a shirt and run towards it. She begins ringing the bell furiously. I swear under my breath. That's the problem with Chloe. She can get quite impatient at times. One time when we were seven, she threw a rock at my window and smashed it because I took too long to respond to her. I quickly open the door to find her red and breathless. "What took you so long?"

"I was getting ready," I reply as I head out the door.

Chloe rolls her eyes. "Oh please. You sound like a girl." I smile in response. I want to say: You sound very snobby today, Chloe. But I don't. Chloe will kill me.

We slowly make our way down the street. It's hot: almost forty degrees. Chloe chats happily about drama and her class' upcoming production of the play, Ruby Moon. From what I've listened too, the play is strange. It's about a girl who goes missing and a series of madness. It's strange, really. I've known Chloe as a lover of poetry, happy things, funny things, hipster things, tiny things, but never strange things.

We talk about our plans for the upcoming holidays. I'm going to take my driving test. I really want to get my Learners Permit. Chloe and I made a plan when we were twelve. Once high school's over, she and I are escaping this old, mundane town and making a life for ourselves in the city.

The smell of the sea fills my lungs. Chloe tugs my arm and together we run down the sandy stairs beside the trees, laughing happily. Chloe drops her red backpack on the golden sand. She hurriedly removes her sandals and takes off her shirt. "Come on!" She says.

I shake my head. "I don't want to."

Chloe smirks and runs towards me. I begin to back away. "Come on scaredy pants." I begin laughing as she pulls me towards the water.

"Wait!" I call out. "I don't even have my bathers on."

Chloe doesn't stop. "Who needs bathers? Just have fun." And with that, she pushes me under the water. Shades of blue fill my eyes as I hold my breath. Chloe's face comes to view. She smiles with her eyes wide open. Her blonde mane surrounds her face like the wings of a butterfly. I blow some bubbles in the water as time begins to slow down.

Soon my lungs hurt and nose tingles. I move my legs as I make my way to the surface. With my mouth wide open, I inhale the wind. The feeling of relief runs through my heart and veins. My shirt and shorts stick to my skin like an extra layer. Chloe emerges from the water with a grin on her face. "You liked that didn't you?"

I don't reply. Instead, I lunge at her and pull her into the water. Then I let her go and quickly swim towards the beach. The coarse sand sticks to the sole of my feet as I run towards Chloe's bag. I turn around to see her running towards me. Her mane sticks to her skull and face. It falls in long, thick, straight strands, almost like pieces of rope.

"What did you do that for?" She says, punching me on the side.

"That was for saying that I sounded like a girl. I do not sound like a girl."

Chloe looks at me for a long time with a straight stare. For a moment, I'm worried I've pushed her buttons too far. Instead, her lips curve into a smirk. "You over-react a lot, James."

"Well, thank you," I reply sarcastically.

"You're welcome." She takes a towel from her bag and lies on the ground. We lay together, side by side, staring at the sky. Seagulls fly past and the sand makes its way in between my toes. "It's beautiful," Chloe whispers.

"It is." I steal a glance at her. Her eyes are open and her hair is slowly beginning to dry. Chloe isn't the world's definition of perfect. She's not a size eight with well-defined hips and long, toned legs. There are times when she breaks down at the fact pimples attacked her face during the night after having a huge binge on lollies. At times, she's as cranky as hell and has the habit of being too smart when it comes to literature, but she's perfect, real, tangible.

After a while, we stand up and slowly make our way past the children's playground towards the old, broken down fish 'n' chips shop. Chloe hums a song as we walk -a song by Florence and the Machine. She loves the band.

We arrive at the fish 'n' chips shop. Hardly anyone's there apart from Old Joe, who plays the radio as he sits on a plastic chair. "What do you kids want?" He asks when he notices us.

"Can we buy some fish and chips, please?" Chloe asks in a posh accent. I almost smile.

Old Joe sneers. "That will be twelve dollars." Chloe doesn't argue. She just smiles and hands him the money. She knows he's cheating her. She can always tell when a person is lying. But this time, she lets it pass.

We sit on a bench, waiting for our food.

"How's your poetry?" I ask.

"It's going well."

"That's good."

I want to ask if she writes about me in the forbidden pages of her purple journal. But I don't ask. I'm too afraid to know. Hearing the words of rejecting coming from her mouth will be too hard to bear.

I don't want to lose her.