Through the Lens | Dodie Clark

13

/375 days/

I hated the feeling of sand between my toes. I hated dissecting it from my hair days later. I hated swimsuits, nearly as much as I hated wearing a t-shirt as an alternative. I hated the sun in my eyes, and I hated the sweat that would collect on the bridge of my nose, making my sunglasses slide off my face. I hated feeling sticky and I hated the uncertainty that was not being able to see clear to my feet in the less-than-pristine water.

But I did not hate Dodie. And it was far from hatred that I felt as I watched her dance, as fluid as the waves that tickled her feet, her eyes and nose scrunched under the sun's intensity. No, I did not hate this, I admitted, acknowledging the smile that monopolized my face as I took in the view.

It was an abnormally warm day. Margo was laying out a towel excitedly. She had been the one to suggest a beach day. She had friends who owned a beach house, where we'd have a bonfire later in the night. Her boyfriend Xander tagged along, unpacking their sun screen and snacks.

Abruptly I remembered that I brought my camera, and the urge to capture the moment pricked my fingertips.

I knelt down to the backpack that lay by my feet, pulling my camera out. I adjusted the white balance, not being too nitpicky about the other settings.

I focused on Margo first and started recording. She was facing the camera, talking to Xander. He was a newer boyfriend, and I liked him well enough.

She snapped her fingers at him. "Hey, my boobs are down here. I feel like you haven't even looked at them once. They look fucking insane in this top. Have you even-" she broke off as she noticed the camera. Her mood flipped as she waved, then proudly pointed at her breasts.

I gave her a thumbs up. "The girls look great!"

I laughed as I turned the camera, now to Dodie. Her back was to me as she tip toed along the water's edge, leaving soon forgotten footprints in the sand. She easily outshone the sun in her yellow bathing suit, the same color as my walls. A cheap, off-brand bandaid that Margo insisted worked just as fine caught my attention as it dangled from the back of her ankle. A shaving incident from that morning. The sketchy adhesive gave after being hit by a wave.

Dodie turned and rolled her eyes as she saw the camera in my hands. She jogged to me. "Come on, the water won't bite." She covered the lens with her hand, coaxing me to put the camera down.

"It's not the water I'm worried about." But I didn't resist as she began tugging me towards the lake.

We stopped at the waters edge and she turned to face me. She moved my sunglasses to the top of my head so she could see my eyes. From this distance I could see the spatter of freckles across her nose and cheeks that had come out to play in the sun.

Dodie shifted her weight. "You're a good sport. I know this isn't exactly your idea of a good time."

"This isn't so bad," I whispered, not taking my eyes off her.

She hummed, brought her hand to my face and rubbed my cheek with a chuckle.

"What?"

"You had some sunscreen on your cheek. Do you even need it?" Her hand remained on my cheek.

I smiled. "Better safe than sorry. I may not burn like you, but I'm not invincible to wrinkles and skin damage. I still want to look nice for you when we're old."

It was only when Dodie blushed at the last sentence that I realized the implications of what I'd just said. For a moment I was afraid of how she'd react, but her smile soon broke into a grin. She leaned in for a kiss, and I found I didn't mind the saltiness when I was tasting it on her lips. Margo whistled.

---

A guitar was lazily strummed as we all sat around the fire. Margo introduced us to her friends, but I mostly stuck with talking to Dodie.

I leaned over and whispered in her ear. "You should sing."

To this Dodie laughed. "That won't be happening." She lifted her palms to the fire, and a rush of calmness swept over me.

"Would you sing for me?"

"Well, yeah, but I don't really know these people."

"Then let's get out of here."

She started at me for a moment, gauging the sincerity behind my request. The fire's intensity reflected in her eyes. "Is this what dating you is going to be like? Sneaking off together at obscure hours to be alone? I'm not complaining."

"We don't have to go so far this time." I nodded to the beach.

Dodie agreed and we walked hand in hand into the now cool sand. We reached a spot a safe distance from the water. From here we could still see the fire, but they probably couldn't see us.

"Any requests?"

"Mm." I leaned into her, burying my face into the fabric of her shirt so my words were mumbled. "Anything you've written. Actually, something you've written that's happy. I love your music, but some of your songs are downers."

"Can I get back to you on that?"

I sat up straight. "You have zero happy songs?"

"It's not that I'm never happy. I think sad is a better mindset for writing." Faint laughter burst from the campfire, contrasting Dodie's somber tone.

I laced my fingers through hers. "What if I asked you to write a happy song for me?"

I couldn't make out her expression in the darkness. She kissed my fingers and sighed.