Float

Original Edition: Chapter Three

Somewhere in the crowd, a chant started: Fight! Fight! Fight!

"Oh, this'll be good," I heard someone mumble.

Someone else said, "I hope Hamilton gets his ass kicked."

Oh, absolutely not.

Blake Hamilton was my ride home. He knew how to get back to our houses. I did not know the way home, and I didn't even know how to drive his parent's car. It was a stick-shift. I had never driven a stick shift. So, as hostile as Blake Hamilton was towards me, I needed him to, you know, not get his ass kicked.

"Lena, we have to stop them!" I cried.

Lena, who had obviously been running on the beach before and knew just how to maneuver through the sand, took off towards her best friend. I followed after her, sinking like the Titanic with every step and trying desperately not to roll my ankle. By the time I got closer to the fight, Lena had pulled Alissa out of harm's way and was standing between the boys.

"Cut it out! Both of you!" Lena hissed, pushing Blake's chest. He stumbled backward. Lena turned towards the boy in the board shorts. "Ethan, stop. You'll get arrested again."

Again?

"He attacked me!" Ethan slurred.

"You've been fucking with my girlfriend!" Blake retorted.

The scowl he gave Ethan was ten times worse than the scowl he had given me. It gave me some comfort to know I wasn't at the very top of Blake's people-I-hate list.

"Ethan, go home," Lena commanded.

The board-shorts boy, Ethan, flipped Blake the finger before stalking off towards the parking lot. We all stood in silence, listening only to the waves crashing on the sand and our own breathing, until we heard a car speed off down the street, signaling Ethan's departure.

"Alright, Liss, let's get you home," Lena said softly, turning towards her drunk friend. She hooked her freckled elbow under Alissa's arm and started pulling her towards the parking lot, but turned back to look at me over her shoulder. "I'll see you later, Waverly."

"See you," I replied.

I turned to face Blake, who was holding his forehead in the palm of his hand. His hair, dark and disheveled, fell over his eyes. I had the most bizarre urge to reach up and brush it back. But before I could do something stupid, the deep bass of a rap song started blasting through the speakers by the bonfire. It looked like everyone had gotten over the little fight scene.

I cleared my throat. Blake looked up.

His eyes were dark, but not quite as dark as they'd been when he glared at Ethan.

"Let's go," he grumbled.

Blake started towards the parking lot, not bothering to make sure I followed him. He stumbled twice, barely catching himself before he could fall to the sand. I frowned and remembered all those drunk driving commercials I had seen on television before.

"You're not getting behind the wheel," I told him, surprised by the authority in my voice. "In the state of Florida, it's illegal to—"

"I know," Blake snapped. "That's why you're driving."

I stopped in my tracks.

"I can't—" I stuttered out.

"You have a license, right?"

"I mean, I have my learner's permit and I've driven a few snowmobiles before, but—"

Blake reached for his shorts pocket. It took him a few tries, but he finally managed to get his hand in and pull out his car keys. He tossed them to me.