A Year Around the Sun

s i x- it's really not that hard

and it makes me feel so fine
i can't control my b r a i n . . .

🌊🌊🌊

The following Tuesday at work was about as desolate as I had ever seen it. It could have been the extreme heat driving everyone away, or the annual end-of-June "slump" we always experience, but either way, I was bored out of my mind.

My hand was holding my head up, squishing my cheek as I watched a family of four get on the Ferris wheel in the distance. They didn't seem to be bothered by the blazing sun and disgusting humidity. Smiles were on all their faces, while they jumped in their car and slowly wound their way around.

I glanced up at the clock hanging above me that said it was about six minutes before 5 o'clock, and I cheered internally at the end of my shift being so close. The last time I ate was at 2 o'clock for my break, where I only had a soft pretzel and a soda because that's about all I had time to wolf down. I can make it six more minutes.

Another reason why I'm so incredibly impatient today is on account of my seventeenth birthday being in two short days. July 2nd can't come quick enough. Also, the Fourth of July is on Saturday and I'm working, unfortunately, even though I never work weekends here. But it's one of the busiest days we have and we need as much staff to come in as possible.

Having my own little ticket booth means privacy – and privacy means I can groan about my problems without anyone hearing me. So I unleashed a loud, infuriated sigh and sunk back into my stool.

When I picked my head up, my posture immediately straightened at the sight in front of me. Knitting my eyebrows together with my mouth hanging open in shock and denial, I watched a teenage boy meander around the pier. He looked to be in search of something, and when he spun around to face my way, my eyes protruded out of their sockets.

Brody. The lost boy is Brody.

Brody Lambert who I talked to just four days ago. The guy whose number I never got after the party, so I had no way of contacting him. Surfer Boy, who now has a name, which I couldn't stop thinking about for the past couple of weeks.

Holy shit, he's coming over to me.

He started strolling over in the direction of my booth and I suddenly had no idea what to do. I froze, my heartbeat drilling in my eardrums as he grew closer and closer. Does he realize it's me? He probably doesn't even remember me from that party over the weekend. Why would he?

I tried not to look so frightened when he came up and rested his arms on the edge of the counter on the other side of my window, squinting from the bright sun and probably because he was confused. "Excuse me, uh, where's the bathroom in this place?" He asked, putting his hand up to shield his eyes.

"I'll tell you where it is if you tell me that you remember my name," I teased.

Really? Oh my God, why am I an idiot? Way to creep him out!

His forehead wrinkled and he leaned in closer, a sign of recollection coming across his face that gave me a huge relief. Perplexity was replaced by an easygoing smile and an adorable crinkling of his eyes.

"Oh, Lena! I didn't even know it was you," he exclaimed. I had to hold back a squeal at the way he said my name. "The glare on the glass makes it hard to see. Shit, you work here?"

"Yup," I answered chirpily. I was beaming at the fact that he actually remembered me. Am I dreaming? I glanced up at the clock again – two minutes left now. "Actually, I'm getting off now anyway. I can show you where the bathrooms are. It's kind of complicated to explain from here."