18- You're Too Cute

474 40 0
                                    

The boardwalk is crowded with people as we walk, ice cream in hand, along the path parallel to the beach. The beaches are full of people on beach chairs, swimming in the water, and some choosing activities like parasailing, waterjets, and banana boats. Even though I am wearing a bikini under my clothes and the heat is sweltering this afternoon, me and Silas haven't gone swimming yet.

Instead, we've just been walking, and talking, for hours. We grabbed lunch about an hour ago and stopped for ice cream at a small shop near the beach. The wait was long, so I had time to practice my French before I ordered by myself without asking for Silas's help.

"So tell me more about your life in America," I tell Silas with a mouthful of coffee ice cream. I feel the refreshing ice cream melting on my tongue and cooling me down.

"Um, I don't know, there's not that much to tell. I was so young when I came here," he says with a shrug. "I remember my parents fighting a lot, and I liked to play Pokemon."

"Oh, I'm sorry, that must have been hard," I say sympathetically. He doesn't really talk about his parents very much. I know that his mom passed away and his dad still lives in the States, but that's about it. I hope I didn't upset him by bringing up a touchy subject.

"It's okay," he assures me. "It was a long time ago."

"Are you close to your dad?" He doesn't seem upset, so in a gentle voice, I ask him another question. I don't want to prod too much, but I also want to know more about him. I want to know everything about him.

"Not really," Silas shrugs. "I visit for Thanksgiving every year, but we don't really have that much in common."

"That sounds hard," I hear myself saying out loud. "I mean, my parents can be a pain, but at least I have them. I feel like kind of an asshole about complaining so much about them to you."

"I like that you complain to me," he says with a mouthful of ice cream. "I'm okay with how things have turned out. Plus, it's not like I'm alone, I have my mamé."

"Yeah," I say slowly, feeling surprised at how nonchalant he is about not having his parents around. My mom may be stubborn and sometimes too controlling, but I still know that she's there for me when I need somebody. And my dad will always pick me up when I'm down and wipe away my tears. I don't know how I could cope in a world without them.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Silas must have noticed the weird look on my face as he meets my gaze.

"You've just been through a lot, but you talk about it like it's no big deal," I admit to him why I feel a little weird. I know that people react to trauma differently, so I'm not judging him at all, it's just surprising.

"Yeah, I guess," he says, finishing his ice cream and tossing the plastic cup into a nearby trash can. "Do you want to go swimming? I'm getting pretty hot."

"Okay," I just go along with his plan, because I don't want to continue to question his feelings if it's not something that he wants to talk about. "Let's go swimming."

I follow Silas down to the beach and we find an open spot to put our stuff. We put all important things like phones and wallets into my bag and we hide it under our pile of clothes so that nobody tries to take our things.

"There's no sharks out there, right?" I ask Silas as we start to head toward the water.

"Only little ones," he says with a smile. "They won't kill you, might just take a limb or two."

"But I like my limbs," I complain as the water begins to lap at my ankles. In a bold move that I usually wouldn't make, I step behind Silas, grab his shoulders, and jump onto his back like a baby monkey. "Okay, now at least they'll eat you first."

Letters to AudrineWhere stories live. Discover now