One More Time (Bremmy 1)

Chapterish 4

BEACH BONFIRE

9:00 PM

Headlights of parked cars flood the sand. I spot Trix from the edge of the lot. She's tripping over her wedges with one arm holding a red cup and the other flung around Travis. They started dating at 16 when both of them were still painfully awkward. And when they were both done making out with the rest of our friends. The decade under their belt has done wonders. They're still the best looking couple in town.

They haven't seen me yet. I watch them, enjoying my last moments of solitude. I admire Trix with her long red hair and fluid dance of a walk. If she had a purple shell-bra she'd be a dead ringer for the little mermaid. Travis was always the hottest jock. The exception to the rule. And only member of our group that was in the Homecoming Court. Dark hair, broad shoulders and a torso that looks like it belongs on a mermaid. Merman?  He's hardly changed –maybe a bit leaner now without all the jock muscle weighing him down. The metallic brow piercing and tongue ring are new developments. They pair nicely with his tats.

"Hi!" Someone yells.

"Here! Take this!"

"HEY!"

Someone I vaguely recognize hands me a cup filled with what I'm guessing is beer. Must be. It tastes like piss, like watered down piss. No wonder I stopped drinking beer in high school.

Pieces of driftwood are piled high in a tipsy stack. The bonfire is going to be LIT.

I cross to Trix and Travis. My flip-flops spray sand against the back of my legs. They scoop me into a three-way hug fest.

"Emmy!" Trix squeals. "OMG!"

She hugs me again –a solo hug –and almost knocks me into the sand. I catch a wave of watermelon. Her shampoo or whatever is in her cup, I don't know.

"Hey." Travis smiles.

"Been a while, Trav." I say, hugging him too. I catch a whiff of mint. Travis always smells like mint. It's from all the gum he chews. He does it to mask the cigarette smell.

"A WHILE?" Trix yells. "Too fucking long."

"Yea, yea." I push Trix off me. "I'm here now."

I note how touchy feely they are and it's like I stepped into a time warp.

In fact, looking around, I did step through time. It's picture-muscle-memory. I recognize almost everyone standing on the beach. Older versions of their former selves, but their faces are the same.  The guys have thicker beards. The girls have less perky tits. Some have new tits. Some thinned out and bulked up. Others let themselves go a bit. Clearly not everyone gives a fuck about yoga and veganism.

People change, but they don't really fucking change, ya know?

"So. Did you see him yet?" Trix elbows my ribs.

"Here we go again." Travis rolls his eyes. "You've GOT to be kidding me."

"I'm not sure what you're talking about." I almost laugh. I'll be defensive if I have to be.

"Oh, no? Well, we're about to find out." Travis nods.

Trix squeals.

I follow their eyesight across the bonfire and past the horde of my old high school classmates.

THE SUSPENSE.

He's standing right by the ocean, surrounded by four other guys –two I recognize and two I don't. The waves smack his calves, slowly sinking him into the sand.

For fuck's sake.

He looks the same but also different. Older. No shit. His lobster-red swim trunks hang just low enough to show off his godlike V. Thanks. A white tank hangs loosely over his torso. He's gained at least three inches since 18, which is saying something since he was already tall. His biceps have also gained inches.