Kira was acting weird just now.

When we got up to walk to the food court, she stumbled, and I grabbed her, hugging her close to my heart. She started trembling and then she all but ran away from me. That has never happened before.

Did stumbling really scare her that much? Is it residual from her fall from the bleachers?

She clung to me for a few seconds with her cheek pressed to my chest, and then she just fled. When I caught up with her and put my arm around her shoulders, she said she would go buy us some juice from Farmer Rawilings' stall while I bought my loaded fries and ran away again.

For some reason, it felt like she was abandoning me. It's not that I think we need to do everything together and have a problem with her buying the juice while I get the fries. The way she did it and the look on her face when she left me made me uneasy. That's the weird part I'm not okay with.

She almost seemed afraid of me.

That cannot be right. She knows I would never do anything to hurt her. Yesterday, I pretty much proved to her that I would do anything to keep her safe. No, she's not afraid of me. It has to be leftover jitters from her fall because she knew that about me even before we started dating.

Then again, she did bring a hockey stick to the bridge the day I asked to meet her, but that was just because she thought I was going to... be me... Yeah, I have no idea what that was about. It didn't make any sense then, and it doesn't make any sense now.

What was that look she just gave me about?

I've never seen her eyes that colour before. They were neither green nor brown... and definitely not breen. They were dark and different. It reminded me of a movie I saw where people's bodies got taken over by aliens.

No, I don't think Kira is an alien now!

I'm pretty sure she's not. She just smells different because of all the muscle rub Deli, and I covered her arms and legs with. I think she's really nervous, but I don't know why. She started to act skittish while we were still sitting under the umbrella. It cannot be because of my fantasy of a future where we watch our older grandkids run on the beach while the baby ones play at our feet - yes, the fantasy keeps growing; it has a life of its own. I haven't even told her about it, so...

Kira disappears among the stalls and people, and I finally turn away to find the food stall I came here for. I'm not sure I'm all that hungry anymore, though. Kira's eyes scared my appetite away. The mouthwatering aroma of chilli mince still inspires me enough to fall in line when I reach my target.

The queue for loaded fries isn't as long as the lines for lighter snacks and drinks since most people are still stuffed from lunch, and it's too early for dinner. I soon have my bowl of long, thick fries - crispy on the outside, soft on the inside - and topping them is a generous layer of fragrant chilli, smothered in everything I've been craving.

I head back to where I'd last seen Kira and nearly lose my appetite when I spot two people in the shadow of the massive billboard advertising haemorrhoid cream... for now. At first, I wanted to ignore them since I'm not in the mood to deal with Marshall Gibbs right now, and he is one of the pair. Then I recognised Amber, and she was clearly distressed.

My feet head off the path and through the bushes in their direction, even before I've made up my mind to investigate.

"I'm sick of you playing hot and cold girl," Marshall grumbles, pulling her wrist up behind her back at an uncomfortable angle, causing me to wince in sympathy.

"I'm not playing hot and cold, you moron," Amber snaps, but I can see the fear in her eyes even from this distance, and I switch to a jog. They are hidden among plants in the corner between the restroom building and the network of steel forming the billboard's base. I wouldn't have noticed them without the flurry of movement that caught my eye.

I think Amber tried to leave and Marshall grabbed her wrist and dragged her back into the shelter.

"I said I'm done with you," she snaps. "I'm not interested anymore. You're dumb and boring."

The girl certainly has guts. Marshall is a lot bigger than her and is not known for being valiant and gentlemanly. I have no idea why she thought getting mixed up with someone like him was a good idea in the first place.

"We're done when I tell you we're done, bitch," Marshall hisses through clenched teeth, lifting his other hand to grab her face. Amber whimpers in pain as his actions place more tension on her strained arm, but she has always had a bottomless fountain of attitude to tap into, and she's doing it now too. She tries to knock his hand away with her free hand, but he is holding on, squeezing her jaw.

"Let go!" she grunts, and I rush closer. Realising that I'm armed with nothing but food, I slow down, veering off my path into a flower bed near them. I pause there to carefully put my bowl, fork and serviettes on a flat boulder, and, satisfied that it is safely out of the way of any possible outbreaks of violence, I step into their vicinity.

"Hey!" I shout when Amber digs her nails into the back of Marshall's hand to drag it away from her face, and he pulls his hand from her grasp, slapping her cheek with a loud crack.

"I know Amber can be seriously annoying sometimes," I tell him, causing the boy about to strike her again to hesitate when he sees me. "But you have no right to get violent with her. If you want to fight, you should do it with someone strong enough to fight back."

I'm ready to take the bastard on when he lets Amber's wrist go and - not surprisingly - lunges for me. I step to the side to get my feet into a better position to dig in and watch in astonishment when the dude crashes head-first into one of the billboard's many legs.

"Wow!" I say, putting my hands on my hips, admiring the damage he'd done to his face. "That was awesome! Do you do any other tricks?"

I'm vaguely aware of Amber laughing while Marshall glares up at me from where he's sprawled on the ground among the Selloums and Strelitzias growing at the feet of the billboard.

I know the town council has debated for years whether to move the billboard to a less obnoxious position or tear it down completely and usually, I find the way it blocks a section of the ocean view rather annoying. Right now, I'm all in favour of keeping it exactly where it is. It performed excellently today, winning itself some brownie points in its favour.

Looking at Marshall glaring up at me, I think he'll join the side calling to destroy the massive advertisement board. His cheek took most of the blow, but there's a thin trickle of blood running from his nose too.

"I'll get you some ice," I tell him since I'm not a total monster, and his cheek is swelling fast. I'm surprised that we haven't drawn much attention yet. The area we're in is a few paces off the walkway and in shadow, but the impact when he dove into the iron supports caused the billboard to vibrate noisily.

Only a few people walking along the path to the restrooms noticed the accident. Sadly, none of them look very sympathetic. Marshall has not made many friends with his aggressive personality. The guy needs some serious therapy.

I've heard rumours of drug abuse, but I also know that he comes from a family where everybody has a chip on their shoulders and tries to force that chip down the throat of everybody they come into contact with.

He is mumbling something, but he seems slightly spaced out after taking that hard blow to his face. I'll take him to the first aid tent, but for now, I hurry to the soda stall across the walkway. There is a crowd of people buying drinks, forcing me to slip between the soda stand and the one next to it selling doughnuts. The sickeningly sweet odour of the doughnut stand makes me swallow, feeling a bit queasy. I'm relieved when I find the door to the soda stand, and opening it to pop my head inside gives me some escape.

"Hey! Gina!" I shout, calling one of the girls I know from school, working the counter. She jumps, startled to hear someone talking behind her and turns from where she'd just helped a customer to give me a wide-eyed look. She relaxes, blushing a cute red when she sees me. Gina always turns red whenever I talk to her. I'm not sure what I do to make her so shy. I give her a reassuring smile, but the red in her cheeks only intensifies, so I give up on that idea.

"H-hi, Ethan," she mutters, touching the edge of the long blond ponytail curling over her shoulder. Apparently, Kira isn't the only girl I make nervous.

"Someone got hit in the face," I tell her, deciding to keep this short and to the point so she can relax and go back to her job, and I can get away from the sugary smell of icing clogging up my throat. I love doughnuts and other desserts, but it's hot, and the fragrance is cloying right now, stirring nausea in the pit of my stomach. "Could I please have some ice?"

"Oh!" she exclaims, opening the freezer box at the back of the stall. She drags a plastic bag dripping with water from it and crosses to the door where I'm waiting. "Here, this one still has some ice in it," she says, handing it to me. She giggles shyly when I smile at her and thank her for her generosity.

"No problem, there's more if you need to return for more."

Hell, I hope that won't be required, but Marshall's capacity for pissing me off is pretty big. He might have more run-ins with the billboard. Who knows, the debate about the board's position and existence might get settled once and for all if the thing collapses from having multiple meetings with various parts of Marshall's body. I might not even have to do anything to help it along.

The guy is on his feet, leaning against the wall of the restroom building, when I reach the billboard. I'm surprised Amber is still here, looking freaked out and tearful, stepping out of his reach.

Did the bastard do more to her while I was gone?

"Here," I say, handing him the ice to press against his cheek, which is already turning blue. I glance at Amber and her eyes shy away from mine. She is clearly shaken by whatever Marshall said or did to her in my absence. He was probably threatening her again... or worse... her grandmother. Amber, despite all her posturing and protests, loves her grandmother.

"You okay?" I ask, sliding my hand over her forearm, and she nods, blinking away her tears.

"Yes, I'm good, thanks. He was just being a jerk," she huffs. "I was stupid enough to help him to his feet, and he shoved me up against the wall, and..." She swallows, shaking her head. "It's okay; I did that trick you showed me, kneeing him in the groin. I couldn't get enough force behind it to hurt him, but he still didn't enjoy it."

"Good girl," I say, turning my eyes to glare at the guy sneering at us.

I'll give him ten out of ten for tenacity... and stupidity. He knew I was going to be back in a second. Few other people would still dare to carry on with their garbage when they are under threat by one guy and a billboard. He is outnumbered and already wounded. He should wind down and give it a rest.

I guess he needs pain to feel better about life. It's sad, really.

"Seriously! You need to leave Amber alone now," I tell him. "She's not interested."

"I thought you already had a girlfriend," he grumbles, moving the ice to his nose. "Aren't you being a bit greedy?"

"Yeah, whatever," I shrug. I consider asking him about his revolting remark when we were out at sea, but I'm not in the mood to talk to him anymore. Besides, I doubt that asking for an explanation or an apology will be worth much. I don't think the guy puts much thought into anything he says. It's better just to let it go and not show him how mad it made me hearing him saying filthy things about Kira and Delia.

"Come on, Amber," I say, turning away from Marshall, dismissing him from my life. I carefully take her arm and stop, anger boiling in my gut when I see the bruises blossoming on her skin where Marshall held her wrist earlier. I turn back, watching the bastard move away from the wall to brace himself against the billboard support that injured him.

I'm not sure what I planned to say or do, and I never will know because seeing me holding Amber's arm, Marshall chortles nastily.

"Seriously, Fletcher! Are you trying to hoard all the whores in this town?" he grunts. "Your sister and that little bitch with the perky tits not enough for you? You can keep your slutty sister, but you should at least drop that small one; I could put her to good use. She's just the right height to-"

Hearing him talk about Kira and Delia that way makes white fury burst into a colourful fireworks display of rage in my head. Without stopping for a moment to think about it, I drop Amber's arm and close the gap between Marshall and me. All I can see is the sparks blinding me, and all I can hear is a loud buzzing in my head. My fist flies out before I've even wholly formed the idea to punch Marshall.

I don't know if I managed to knock his teeth to the back of his head as I'd longed to do when I was on the yacht, but he is lying on the ground, spitting blood, when the world blinks back into focus, and sound returns in a cacophony of voices. Amber is restraining me, and I'll have to throw her aside to get to Marshall again.

"Please, Ethan, he is not worth it!" she sobs, clinging to me when I step towards the boy lying at my feet. I'm shaking in the aftermath of the sudden onslaught of pure rage, and I take a couple of steadying breaths to calm down.

She's right. He isn't worth it.

"Go to the first aid tent," I tell him through clenched teeth. "Tell them they need to search your skull to see if there's a brain in there."

Marshall glares at me, blindly feeling around the plants for the ice bag that flew from his hand during the impact. He finds it and holds it to his bleeding lips. He barks a humourless laugh but doesn't dare to say more.

"Don't you ever talk about my sister or Kira again," I warn him. "Ever!"

I think the fight has finally left him because he stays down, shuffling backwards until his back rests against the wall of the ablution block. When I turn away from him, I'm startled to see that a small crowd has gathered, drawn by the altercation.

"Should I get him more ice?" I ask no one in particular, rubbing the sore knuckles of the fist that struck Marshall's mouth. I'm surprised when I'm answered by a chorus of "No."

"He'll be fine," Amber assures me, dragging me away and I can feel her hands shaking where she's holding onto my arm. I grab my food when we pass the flowerbed with the boulder where I placed it and allow Amber to guide me along the walkway, leaving the incident behind us. I stop when we reach the beach and pull her into the shade of a cluster of palm trees.

"Are you okay?" I ask, turning to give her a proper once-over, searching for any injuries that might need medical care. She looks fine, aside from a red cheek and bruised wrist, and I straighten, relieved that physically, she is probably all right.

Amber folds her arms over her torso, looking at the toe of her flip-flop, digging into the soft sand we're standing on. I've never seen her look this defeated before; she's in an even worse state than yesterday when I ran into her while waiting for Kira. This has not been a good weekend for her.

"Hey," I say, resting one hand on her head so she'll look at me. "It's never okay for a guy to treat you like that, Amber. Never. Don't date bastards like him. You deserve much better. Find yourself a good guy."

"I lied," she says, biting her lip and looking up at me with eyes sparkling with tears. "We're not together; we were just going to hang out today, but he's been awful since the race."

"No, sorry, Amber," I say, shaking my free hand palm out in front of my chest. "He's been awful for as long as I've known him," I assure her, and she laughs, wiping a hand over her eyes.

"I know," she grins. "Thanks, Ethan. I don't think he'll bother me again. At least not today."

I'm sure she's right about that. He'll slink away to go lick his wounds, just like every other time he messed with me or one of my friends. Marshall never learns to leave us alone. We never pick fights with him. We generally just ignore him and get on with our lives.

"I don't know what's his problem," I grumble, shoving my fingers through my hair. "Why does he always have to be so friggin' angry?"

"He has issues," she shrugs. "And he didn't get the rugby scholarship he wanted. You got offers from two universities. Your friends got offers too. He hates you for it. Also, he's flunking some major subjects, which is why he failed to get any scholarships in the first place."

"Damn, that's bad."

"Seriously? You're sorry for him?" she exclaims, shaking her head incredulously.

"Just a little bit."

"Honestly, Ethe, there's only one you," she laughs, and I'm not sure if I should feel flattered or insulted. "Find a good guy, you said, right?"

"Uh-huh." I'm not sure where this conversation is going now, and I narrow my eyes, not quite trusting her. She is looking somewhere past me, down the beach towards the water.

"Slim pickings," she sighs. "You're clearly taken, and so is Lurch. Barn runs if a girl just looks at him, and Jet hates my guts."

"You're counting Jet as a good guy?" I laugh, surprised to hear that.

"Yeah," she says, frowning at me. "He is a good guy... he just hides it really well."

She looks past me again, and I'm not sure what she's seeing, but she heaves a long, wistful sigh. "James Hessian is the epitome of a good guy," she mutters, and I have to agree with that statement. Burlap is a good guy, and there's no way for him to hide it. "He wants nothing to do with me, though."

"Good, because Wendy would eat you alive and spit out the bones," I assure her of her avoidance of certain dismemberment.

"Because she hates me or because he belongs to her?" she asks, cocking an eyebrow, looking more like the Amber I'm used to.

"Probably both, though they will both argue about the second part of your sentence," I chuckle, and she grins, agreeing with me. "There are many other good guys, Amber. You'll find one if you really try."

"Thank you for helping me, Ethe," she says, her smile softening when she places a hand on my forearm.

"No problem, Amber." I move the fork sticking out of my chilli to stir it, mixing it with the fries. I'm grateful it's too hot out here for food to cool down fast. There is still some steam coming out of it. "Are you going to be alright now?"

"Yes," Amber sighs, dropping her hand and giving me a brave smile when I lift my eyes to look at her again. "I'm going home. I need a long bubble bath."

"Need a ride?" I offer, since I have my dad's car keys in my pocket and taking her home shouldn't take more than a few minutes. I'll just call Kira and let her know that I'll be back in a bit.

"Thanks, but I'm here with Grammy's car," Amber says, turning to leave. She stops, looking back at me over her shoulder. "Thanks, Ethe... you're a really good guy, you know? Kira is a lucky girl."

I watch her hurry away, running to the car park with her hair streaming behind her in the breeze. Amber certainly is a vision attracting attention when she passes; if only she would do something about her appetite for being mean. I know she can be really nice when she wants to be.

I've occasionally seen different sides of her.

The aroma of the loaded fries in my hand finally breaks through the last of the anger, slowly ebbing away, setting my heart free. My appetite returns with a bang, and I happily dig my fork into it for my first flavourful bite.

I need to get to Kira.

I know that being with her will wipe away any lingering bad feelings. I've taken longer to get my food than I meant to, and when I turn to head back to where she left me, I spot her already under our umbrella, talking to Burlap. I think Amber must've seen him there, lying on his side with his upper body supported on one elbow. He looks pretty awesome, his red hair glowing like a red-gold crown on his head. What girl could resist him?

Mine better resist him big time!

I'm glad to see two of my top favourite people sitting together, waiting for me. I was right! Seeing them blasts the last bad feelings from my heart, and my joy to be here with people I love returns in a staggering flood.

I cross the beach to reach them, chatting and joking with people along the way while I eat my food. I'm smiling and happy by the time I reach Kira and Burlap. I sit beside Kira, close enough for her fragrance to make my eyes tear up and the soft skin of her knee to brush mine.

Thinking about Marshall's disgusting words momentarily makes the spicy mince push up in my throat, but I swallow against the sudden wave of anger and smile at the love of my life.

I will never let Marshall or any bastard like him get anywhere near Kira.

"Want some?" I offer them my fries, confused by the strange looks they're both giving me.

Aren't they happy to see me too?

♂♀