Slaters Beach , Massachusetts - 2004

It's a hot day. A day I'm glad to be working on the beach. In this cement cave. In the cement organic looking facilities. The snack bar the biggest. Situated on the beach, these structures molded grey concrete. Sea creatures. Inside the cave snack bar, it's cool. Everything's cool to touch. I can see out the arched, smooth cement doorway the ocean beyond the beach, down to the shore. It's a hot, busy day at the crowded beach. The wall to wall people of the public beaches. Children screaming or crying. Every now and then a group of girls, about my age. Local girls I don't know. Neighboring towns. Pretty girls in bikinis.

Three stand there at that moment. Behind them a line of wet, sandy, salty bodies. I am focused on each one . Taking orders and filling them. A camaraderie with Susan-the other concession worker, Ed, the older guy who manages the entire concrete facility complex and two guys who cook in the back of the cave: Kevin and Mikey.

I notice one of the girls staring at me. She's about sixteen and has translucent eyes. A haunting transparent blue. It is something that marks her as different, unique, but it is not pretty. Her eyes draw my attention. She's glaring at me. She knows me somehow and I don't know her. Her long black hair is still wet and beginning to clump from the salty water. She's tanned and I can see lines from her various bathing suits. The bandeau strapless top leaves bar, strap marks from a halter type suit. These pale areas are reddening from exposure. The two other girls are back-ups to this enigmatic teenager. She's the star.

I hand the change to the little boy who ordered clamcakes and a Hershey bar. The boy is making a show of balancing the candy bar on top of his coke and paper box of clam cakes in the other hand. He's one of those little boys that I can tell wants to do everything himself...He's tough I smile as I watch him navigate the cue, past customers. I look back up and smile to the girl—the girl with the eyes. Turquoise marbles. Has her hair color changed with the light? As she moved out of the sunny spot to the dark cave, lit with incandescent lights that give a candle light glow in contrast the the bright white sunlight out on the beach.

I smile at her, smiling over the boy but she doesn't smile back. She stares. Glares actually.

"Can I help you?" I ask.

She baby talks back. "Can I help you?"

"Pardon?" Now I'm stiffening, ready for an exchange. I don't know this girl.

"You heard me."

"Yeah. I heard you." I say. "I've got a line of people. Do you want to order?"

She turns to her friends they exchange looks, she rolls those blue eyes before she turns back. "What's good here?"

I wait. Now people behind her are clearing their throat. The man behind her says. "hurry up kid."

"Yeah.. I'll have a coke and —let's see. Do you girls want some fries?"
The shorter girl pushes forward. "just stay away from Jack." She sneers at me.

"Is that it?" I hit keys on the cash register. "Two twenty five."

The leader girl hands me three dollars. "Change please."

I lay the coins on the counter. One by one. Making her pick them up one by one.

"Seriously" the short one says. "this is his girlfriend. Have some respect." 

I shake my head.

"They'll call your name. You can wait over there. "

The girls shake their heads, moving closer to each other. A little band of bully girls. I don't realize it bothers me until I fill out the ticket for the cooks. My hand shakes as I write. "Small fry and coke."

"Can I help you?" I say to the man who'd been waiting behind the girls.

It does't take long for the sting of the interaction to subside. The snack bar stays busy. Nonstop customers until we close at 6:00. Early evening is the best time on the beach. Most of the families have gone and troves of people continue to file out to the parking lot. I know from experience, the asphalt stays warm, near hot until evening. Even after the sun goes down everything holds the heat.

When my shift ends, and I've finished cleaning up, I finish my last task. I walk outside, to the front of the snack bar cave with the trash to take over to the dumpster. Before I do I hang the "closed" sign on the door. The closed sign is written on a buoy and hung by a tattered looking rope sealed with polyurethane. The "o" is a clam. My flip flops slap the cement now wet from where Mikey uses the hose to spray the sand on the floor back to the beach.

"Hey" I hear. I look up and one of the lifeguards, Jack, is leaning against the cement cave. The sunny side. He's tanned and wears the orange life guard trunks.

"Hey" I say. I know who he is, but I don't know him. He's one of the beach staff community but holds the status position of life guard. The tall wooden chairs and Ray Ban glasses sets him apart from the rest of us. I look pale compared to his dark tanned skin. His hair is now almost completely blonde, bleached by the sun. I know it is naturally sandy brown. I remembered him from earlier in the summer. At the orientation. He was confident and stood out. Jack was someone—like the girl with the blue eyes—who stole the attention in the room. His appeal was his smooth demeanor. His undeniable confidence and good looks. He'd been coming around the snack bar lately. He held his gaze on mine when he ordered a root beer no ice. For weeks he'd let other customers pass in line as he waited for me to take his order, ushering people to the open cashier when I was still waiting on another person. He obviously wanted an interaction with me. I saw it but I had put a shield around myself. I know guys like him. Besides I have Patrick. Patrick—a boy I've been talking with on the phone. My sister's friend from UMASS.Three years older than me. Nineteen.

"Hey," he says agin. He's got a tootsie pop. I know it's cherry. I'd sold it to him earlier in the day. That morning, when the sun was just starting it's ascent. When there was still a hint of cool in the air.

"Hi." I say and pass him to walk to the dumpster.

"Can I get that for you?" He asks.

I stop and look at him. I can't help but laugh. "No."

I turn and start towards the chain link gate to the large dumpster where bring the garbage every night. I drop the plastic bag on the ground and remove a set of keys from my cut off jean shorts.

He's waiting, watching me as I unlock the pad lock and pull the metal gates open.

"Here" he says, and walks towards me on to the cement pallet of the garbage stalls. He opens the dumpster lid and picks up the large trash bag. He tosses it into the metal dumpster. Standing that close to him, I feel a rush of warmth. His tanned skin is moist and his muscles taut. An athlete. Jack looks like a baseball player. His biceps, smooth. We've had a connection all summer and yet I realized it was unspoken, familiar but not even friendly yet. It's a attraction. I catch myself and step back and wait while he closes the metal top. He has so much confidence. He takes over the chore, closes the wire gate. He looks at me and waits.

I don't know what he's doing. What he's waiting for?

"Nice job." I try. "Good work? Is that what you're waiting for?" He still looks at me until I ask, 'What?"

He laughs. "The padlock silly."

Silly.

It's familiar and affectionate.

"Oh right." I hand him the padlock and He snaps the gate locked.

"Thanks," I say and start back to the snack bar. I wished the walk was longer. I wanted more time with him.

"Are you done with work?"

"Don't you have a girlfriend ?" I ask. I did't even mean for it to come out. I stop and look at him. The late afternoon sun makes everything warm. The light bathes us Makes us into a postcard or an old coca cola ad.

"Yeah." He says. Half whisper half confession.

"Then what are you doing?" I wait I am done with work. I was just going to grab my t-shirt and head home. I always change from my snack bar shirt which by the end of my shift is saturated with the smell of French fries and popcorn. But, I could leave my t-shirt in the snack bar office. I didn't need it. My car keys were on my key ring and my license in my back pocket. My sunglasses were on top of my head,

His eys stay on me, he shifts his weight a little. "I don't know—-want to go for a walk?"

I did. honestly. I did want to. I stared at him for a long time.

"What?" He asked in what seems like a rare moment of insecurity.

"You're too much." I say and turn away start walking up towards the parking lot.

"hold up." He says. "What do you mean 'I'm too much?'"

I keep walking.

"I am with Becca but..." He must have walked faster because he caught up with me. I didn't her him, the sound of his steps absorbed by the sand. He gently reaches for me. Touches my arm. I stop and he pulls his hand away. "We broke up."

"Really?"

"We did."

"Ok. I believe you."Then,  I tease as if I'm a detective "I'll take your word for it--you seem like an honest guy."

Somehow he doesn't get the joke.

"Bad joke" I say "I'm not coming on to you" I then say. "Don't ask me why I said that. It didn't make sense."

"Annie, right?"
"yeah." I pull my sunglasses over my eyes. I don't want him to see my vulnerability.

"Annie." He says again. I like hearing him say my name. "because of you. That's why I broke up with Becca."

I don't say anything. It's presumptuous and my mind flashes back on the girl with the blue eyes. Now, I know her name is Becca."

"Is that what you told your girlfriend?" I move a little closer, keep my gaze on him.
"Yeah." He says as if this information would make me feel good.

"She came to the snack bar today. Semi-threatened me." I said.

"I'm sorry."

"It seems like you're trying to stir something up. I don't want to be dragged into-"

"Ok it was stupid—"

"Jack. Right?" I don't know why I pivot away from the girlfriend and his rejection of her for me. I guess I wanted to return to flirtation.

He bites his lip, I see it's chapped from the sun. His eyes examine me while he holds my gaze.

"Want to go for a swim?" I ask. Again, I don't know why.

"Yeah." He says again. "Yeah I do, Annie."

"We could race? swim to the cove. see who gets there first?" I suggest.

He shifts his weight, squints at the sun, now low in the sky ready for dusk. "Race?" He shakes his head. "Are you a masochist?" He teases.

"You're crazy—" I say. "you don't know what you're dealing with here."

He walks towards me and we start walking side-by-side towards the shore. He teases "What are you, some kind of professional swimmer?"

"What?" Now I laugh. "Who's a professional swimmer? Is there such a thing?"

"I don't know why I said that. That's stupid."

I stop. I turn and wait for him to face me.

"No. Really." I say slowly.

He bites his lip again, waits for me to say something serious—we don't know each other at all and so it's easy to play with vulnerability and expectation.

I squint my eyes, lean closer to him. I take off my sunglasses and tuck them in my jean shorts pocket. I whisper "I am a professional swimmer. I'm just working at the snack bar because no one's hiring swimmers right now."

He laughs again. "I knew you were. — I mean I've seen you on TV. Swimming."

I roll my eyes. "Seriously we could go to goose neck. Race to the cove?"

"OK." Now he stops "To be fair—you know I"m a life guard, right? That's pretty much a professional swimmer—Maybe I should give you a head start."

"No. It isn't. You sit on a chair all day—maybe I should give you a head start!" I remove my t-shirt and shorts. Careful to fold the so my sunglasses and keys don't fall out. I lay them on the sand.

"Really—" he starts the banter again but I take off before he removes his t-shirt. I run towards goose neck. The air cools just a little as I race towards the water. Instantly, Jack passes me and keeps running towards the cove. I keep running too. Once in the water, it grows cooler as we reach the deep waters before we get to the large rocks of the cove. I love the Atlantic in the summer, how many layers of warm, cool, and cold and then the undertow, undulations that become the rush of surf.

Jack is there way before me and by the time he extends his hand from his position on the rock, my body is shaking from the physical challenge.

"I thought I had to go in after you." He teases.

"That was the plan." I said trying to joke but still catching my breath.

"Here. You ok?" I take his hand and we find a warm spot on the large rock that juts out at the tip of gooseneck point. The sky is now orange and the sun is almost at the horizon. I don't let go of his hand. We sit together on the warm rock and the tide is retreating, soon there'll be packed sand, rocks, and tide pools below us. I lay back and catch my breath.

"You are a good swimmer" Jack says.

I smile at him. "Thanks you are too."

He lays down next to me and it feels good to be in that moment. My body feels alive and the salty water dries quickly, my back feels the warmth of the stone beneath us. I want to kiss Jack but we are so young that it seems like a complicated matter to get from liking each other, the stirring feelings of desire, and actually touching one another. Instead we lay side by side and look at each other and smile.

"I love the beach," I say.

"Yeah me too."

"I can't imagine being someone who lives in Chicago or something." he says.

"No beaches there?" I ask.

Jack shakes his head—they have a lake I think, no beach.

"Hmmm...yeah I think you're right. Big lake right?"

"Yeah but no salt. No tides...I'd go nuts."

"We're lucky" I say.

"So true." He smiles, reaches for my hand.

We watch the sunset.