#she's so pretty i can't

[liltaireissocute]

💖

[yellowbugifs]

218/365 days of regina mills

[hannahssimblr]

She saunters back a few minutes later with a serene smile, two plaits swinging around her shoulders. 

I squint up at her. “That was quick.”

“Yeah, well, the mobile is so close.” 

“You get your togs?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool, well do you want to swim here or further down towards the rocks? That’s where I usually go.” I point towards my end of the beach, where the masses of people thin out with the coastline, where the sand is coarser and the tide trickles in over rounded pebbles. It’s my preferred swimming spot, because nobody bothers to go there but the old women who swim laps early in the morning, and then sit around chatting by the steps with their flasks of tea. They think it’s their spot, but it isn’t. It’s mine. 

We hike there together with the sun on our backs, and when I get there, too tired and sweaty to explain myself, I just take my shoes and t-shirt off and throw them onto the ground. Her eyes dart away from me, and I want to reassure her it’s fine, it’s just a torso, maybe a particularly sweaty one, but I don’t care if she looks. There’s nothing wrong with my body, in fact, and I’m pleased with the effort I’ve put into it. I’m not embarrassed as long as she’s not embarrassed. Bodies are bodies. I’ve learned that from life drawing. I imagine expressing any of this, and going into so much detail about my specific thoughts on the matter might make her think that I particularly want her to look at me, which… 

I don’t. 

“Ready to go?”

She nods. 

I run for the water and swim to the deep part as quickly as I can, letting feeling its coldness shock my hot skin. It steals my air at first, and I gasp, but in one moment it’s glorious. It glistens around me, so clear that I can watch the ribbons of seaweed slither on the sea floor beneath me.

“Coming?” I call out to Evie, still clothed on the shore. 

“Yes,” she says, and doesn’t move a muscle.

I turn and look at the horizon so that she can get undressed in privacy. There's a splash as her body hits the water. 

“Oh!” She squeals, “Cold!”

I don’t turn around. “Just get your shoulders in.”

“I know!”

“Sorry, yeah, you made sure to mention that you swim three times a day.”

She titters, “It just takes me a while to adjust. Leave me alone.”

“I am.”

“Okay,” she is closer now, her ripples meshing with mine, and is smiling. The ends of her plaits drift freely under the surface like mermaid hair.

“Water is nice, isn’t it?”

Her teeth chatter. “Mm, like a bath.”

I take in a lungful of air and dunk my head under, just to get the worse out of the way, and then, wiping salt water from my eyes, I tell her, “Way better when you get your head in.”

“I don’t always do that. With my hair and everything, it just becomes an ordeal.”

“Your hair?”

“Yeah, like, not that it’s… special hair or something. Like, you know it’s just an effort to wash and dry it and go through the whole thing.”

“Oh, what? Come on, I thought you’d be the kind of person to dunk your head under at least. So what if your hair gets wet?”

“Easy for you to say.” She rolls her eyes, and I know I am going to dunk her. It would be impossible to resist such a hilarious act. 

I feel like a shark, circling her carefully, my hands ready beneath the water to grab her if she tries to move too suddenly. 

“Come on, get your head in.”

“I don’t have to!”

“For me?”

She laughs. “For you? What’s it to you?”

“Okay, okay, for you then, come on, you won’t regret it.”

“No!” she says, and I lunge for her, missing the leg I reached for, but I had a backup plan. With my spare arm, I skim the surface and splash an armful of water at her. She shrieks, but wastes no time in splashing me right back with some kind of professional technique. The sheet of water she sends my way hits me with such force that it almost knocks me sideways, and I am shocked, never having thought I’d witness such power from someone her size. 

But two can play that game. I bite my lip with determination and slice the water with my entire arm, sending a tsunami over her head, and she gasps, half of her hair dripping wet. After hauling it out of her face, she stares at me with shock and incredulity.

I shrug. “Sorry. Got you, though.”

“Oh! Oh, you’re in for it now!” She attempts her revenge strategy, but I’m faster than she is. I dive into the water and grab hold of her ankle and yank her under with me, her head submerged at last. 

She bursts up, spluttering. “Jude!”

“Oh, sorry. Sorry, I feel bad. C’mon,” I hold up my hands in surrender and let her gather herself, and get all the water from her eyes before trying again. “Evie,” I say, “Truce.”

“There’s no truce.” She’s right, and there is no longer a reason to pretend, so I try to grab her, this time missing. We circle around each other, I, launching for her, and her, dodging me with increasing intensity. I don’t even know if this is a game anymore. It feels like a battle.  

I pounce, and manage to curl my hand around the back of her knee, where her skin is soft under my fingers. She jerks and kicks my thigh, hard. This time she is serious.

I release her. She turns over and swims away. 

What did I do? Did I hurt her? Did I take it too far? I thought we were just messing around. She floats aimlessly, her face turned away, but I can see her ears. They have gone red. 

“I think I’m going to get out,” she announces. 

“... Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m just getting cold. I don’t want to catch a chill.”

“Okay… then me too.”

“You don’t have to, if you’re not ready.”

“No, it’s fine. Let’s get out.”

I reach the shore first and wade out onto the pebbles and the shells. They slide beneath my soles and cause me to stumble as a wave hits the back of my calves. Highly uncool, but at least I didn’t fall in front of Evie. Back on solid ground, I turn to see her wading out, the water lapping around her thighs, and pause.

Her curves glisten in the sunlight, her long, slender legs and small waist. I couldn’t see any of her body while submerged in the sea. By design. She didn’t want me to. But for that half-second I let myself look at her, I am convinced that God is real. 

“Did you bring a towel?”

She shakes her head.

“Here.” I swipe her t-shirt off the ground and toss it to her. “Come back to my house with me. We’ll get one for you.”

She struggles into her top as it sticks to her damp skin, and immediately crosses her arms over her chest as the fabric soaks in all the water in her bikini, leaving two dark, obvious triangles right over her boobs. Not that I saw. It’s not like me to look. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

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