“The knowledge of how to, umm, actually roll this?”
More laughter. By now Ken and Pothan were sitting too. I looked with innocent eyes at the girl, and she shook her head and took everything off my hands. After that, we talked a bit more naturally. I lay down with my head in the girl’s lap, and she fell to stroking my hair. The joint passed, but I didn’t intercept it. The conversation swirled above me while her fingers went through my hair again and again.
“You’re so tangled,” she said.
“These two assholes grabbed me out of bed before I could shower.”
A hairbrush appeared, and she worked it gently through my hair, tugging here and there at knots. Her other hand massaged my ear, scraping out a little of the sand that’d collected inside. Everything was so incredibly perfect. The girl and I smiled at each other. I didn’t know her name, and I didn’t want to know it.
Ken’s laughter broke through. “What the fuck is going on there?”
I got up, shaking my hair, and the girl pulled away, embarrassed, even though we hadn’t done anything.
“Nothing,” I said. “Just brushing out the sand.”
She put the brush back in her bag, and shortly after, her group was like, We gotta run. Ken gave them an awkward-as-hell invite to party with us, but Pothan waved goodbye and made for the next group of people.
I chased after the alternative kids for a few feet, until I was walking backward in front of the girl. “Hey. Thanks,” I said.
Her expression was so strange. Mouth completely flat; eyes downcast. But after I spoke, her lips turned upward in a tiny smile. The whole group was tense, and I understood their feelings, but I hated being treated like a possible predator.
“No problem,” she said.
After a half beat, I tossed her another helpless smile and ran back to Pothan.
Ken gave me shit for not making a move, but Pothan shook his head. “Your only problem was you gave her all the power. Like, from the ground, you couldn’t do shit, she had all the control, and that made her feel safe, but you were also powerless, and that meant she wasn’t into you.”
“Whatever, I liked it.”
He grabbed me around the middle while Ken glowered at us. “That’s cool, bro. You’ve gotta have some fun. Not every girl is closable.”
“I could’ve done it,” Ken said.
“Dude, don’t be like that,” Pothan said. “He’s just learning. He’s not a Jedi master like you and me.”
We launched into another group of kids, and this one was a disaster. A beefy guy threatened to kick our asses, and we ran away, jumping up and screeching like a pod of dolphins. The next group was all college girls, a row of shining bodies—one was on her stomach, bikini top unhooked so she wouldn’t have tan lines—and we were a troop of clowns, performing for them, pretending we were visiting scientists from MIT, here for a conference, and they laughed and laughed until the laughter trailed off, and after a few minutes it got weird, so I checked out, saying I needed to pee.
The silvery seas let loose a distant howl, and with every step my smile got wider. The nearest bathroom had no line, but I texted the guys that I was headed to the far one that nobody uses.
After I’d pissed, I looked across the sand, thought about Pothan and Ken still swirling around those girls, and decided I could take a few more minutes, so I stood in line for a churro. Imagining how Ken would probably lick and suck on the churro and make some gross remarks, continuing the joke until the humor dried up and the laughter turned uncomfortable, made me glad I was alone.
Then a bright purple bow tie walked past my table.
“Dave!” I said. “Hey, Dave.”
The wind was loud, and he walked past unhearing, so I ran half a step and said, “Dave, dude. What’s up?”
Bow Tie Dave was my project. I always saw him hanging around the edges of parties, getting way too drunk, not really saying much, but the thing is—he was actually kind of hot. Maybe folks didn’t see it because he was Asian, and they were used to looking past him, but he had an interesting body—thin hipped and broad shouldered—that gave him a hawklike look. His face was nice too, with its high cheekbones and straight nose. In his glasses and blazer he was an Asian Clark Kent. And everybody knows it’s not the fifties anymore: nowadays girls think Clark Kent is way hotter than Superman.
“Hey, dude,” I said. “What you doing here?”
“Oh . . . I actually work at the Baskin-Robbins.”
“Nice. I didn’t know that.”
“Yep, I job. I’m a job haver. Ever since I was fourteen.”
“Is that even legal?”
“At ice-cream stores? I don’t know. I think ice-cream stores exist in a weird legal limbo. As long as your fingers are strong enough to grip the scoopers, you’re good.”
I laughed. “Hey, uhh, what happened with that girl you asked me about?”
“Mari?” He shook his head. “Disaster. I’m awful. I’m the worst. We hung out for six hours yesterday on the boardwalk.”
“That doesn’t seem bad.”
“I couldn’t even hold her hand,” he said.
“Shit.”
“Yeah, that’s it. You’re making the right face to describe this situation.”
I tried to smile. “Come on, dude, you want a churro? Let’s get a churro.”
“You just ate a churro.”
“Let’s get another churro. What? A guy can’t eat multiple churros in one day? You don’t know my life. You don’t know my struggle. Stop food-shaming me.”
He looked over his shoulder, as if expecting rescue, but I grabbed the sleeve of his collared shirt and gave it a slight tug. As we were ordering the churros, my phone buzzed.
Pothan: Dude, where are you?
Me: Can’t talk. Met a friend. Be right back.
I pocketed my phone. Dave said, “Are the guys waiting for you?”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “We’ve got time.”
The picnic tables were filled, so we leaned against the wooden railing. The wind beat against the collar of Dave’s shirt, and my eyes were drawn to a little smudge of sugar at the corner of his mouth.
“It was a disaster,” he said. “Like, after dropping her off, I just sat in my car and laughed. She must be like, What just happened? And I even called it a date. I was like, ‘Let’s go out on a date.’ But then I made zero moves.”
“No, no.” I nodded my head. “I get it.”
“But do you actually? Or are you just trying to relate? Because shyness doesn’t seem like a problem you have.”
“Mmm.”
“I’ve seen you.”
“Things happen.”
“I kinda never want to see her again.”
“Dude, I get it. Do you know why Avani and I stopped hooking up?”
His eyebrows went up.
“Too much stress!” I said. “Every time we were together, I’d be like, Will we hook up? Where’s this going? What’s happening? Will she talk to me? Will she ignore me? I hated it. Half the time I was so anxious I couldn’t even get it up.” Although that was my deepest and most shameful secret, it slipped out easily with Dave. “Then one day I was like, Wait a second, if I end things first, I’ll win. So I did.”