#(Why would it bother you? Well Constantine would wonder why Kay is wearing a bikini because he Does Not Know.)

[yvesdot]

Golden Afternoon (Summer Drabble 2021)

As some may know, every summer I go to the lake and experience debilitating inspiration. It's like my hand moves by itself, and what it writes is everyone enjoying a nice summer day by the lake, just like me. This is this year's piece! Watch out, for I may do more.

Kay floats expertly, albeit a touch stiffly, in Atlas’s bright pink inner tube on the lake. Atlas snaps a photo of her and drops his phone before galloping down the length of the beach and leaping into the water again. He wades out to her, and she lifts her sunglasses at the disturbance in the waves.

“California girl,” he sings. Kay kisses her fingers and presses them to his forehead. “You look good. How about a popsicle?”

Kay narrows her eyes, then replaces her sunglasses. “Outside food.”

“Boo. Come with me while I get a popsicle?”

Kay sighs, sitting up a little straighter. “I may as well. I might bring one to my father.”

Constantine, for his part, is asleep and looking whiter than usual in an inch-deep layer of sunscreen under a large blue beach umbrella. To Kill A Mockingbird is open on his stomach.

“Sure.” Atlas drags Kay to shore, lining up the inner tube so that she can stand straight up out of it. He offers her his hand, though of course she pretends not to need it, and kisses her cheek. When she lays a hand on his chest, he flings himself at her entirely.

“You are WET,” Kay says, and Atlas squeezes her anyway, because it’s the beach. Kay pats Atlas placatingly. He lets go and walks them over to the ice cream stand; where Avner, Eliza, and Red are sitting at a table in front of a Neapolitan sundae.

“It’s a good thing you know which of us is eating which flavor,” Eliza says to Avner. Her face is shaded by the umbrella.

“What?” Avner says, blinking.

“You’re telling me we didn’t figure this out before we got it?” Red covers his eyes with his hand and leans back in the cheap metal chairs. “Oh, we’re doomed.”

“No we’re not.” Eliza adjusts her cloche hat. “Okay, look: I’ll have the strawberry, you’ll have the vanilla, and Avner will have the chocolate.”

“No,” they all say in unison.

“Right,” Eliza agrees. “Okay. Never mind. What now?”

Red puts a hand to his chest. “I don’t care which flavor I—”

“Liar.” Eliza crosses her arms. A hot breeze blows in off the water.

“Well,” Red admits, “okay. I do care. But you can pick whatever you want.”

“What if we want all of the flavors?” Avner queries, resting his chin on his hand.

“You mean share?” Eliza asks, flicking the bow on her floral one-piece. “Like in third grade?”

“That doesn’t sound so bad, honestly.” Red taps his fingers on the table. “But it’s melting.”

“Whatever,” Eliza agrees, and they all dig in. Elle comes over in a pastel pink romper swimsuit to ask if they’re using the fourth chair, and all three of them make little no, go ahead! hand waves. Elle thanks them profusely and walks over to sit down by Ephraim, who is clothed as if experiencing mid-autumn but for his big square sunglasses.

“Nice rocks,” Elle says, leaning closer to the pile on the table. “May I?”

“Go ahead.” Ephraim flips a page of the newspaper. “It’s my collection, though. Only the best lake rocks.”

“Mhm.” Elle turns a pink one so that it catches the light, then an orange one so that it glows translucent. Bren jogs up and deposits several more on Ephraim’s table.

“Make sure no one takes these,” they remind Ephraim before turning to Elle. “ETA on the sundae?”

“Shortly,” Elle reports, doing a little salute. Bren thanks them and disappears.

Ephraim cackles theatrically as soon as Bren is out of earshot. “My unwitting servant,” he explains to Elle, who is now busy fixing their stretchy white bow headband.

“Genius,” Elle comments, looking out at the boats on the lake. The maybe-vampires squint across the water at you from their pontoon boat. Arbor shakes his head. Juniper waves. Clem gives you a thumbs-up. Fox pulls a black sun hat lower over their head. “Stalker,” Sage mutters.

You walk back up to the parking lot, where Julia is waiting with Ahava in the car.

“Have a good time?” Julia asks. You nod and get into the passenger’s seat. The air conditioning hits you, and though it’s nice out, you immediately lean back against the seat in relief. Julia pulls out of the lot, humming quietly, and you turn around to ask Ahava whether she had a nice time, too.

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