Kissing Gracie was a fucking mistake though, because now I can’t get the taste of her out of my mouth or head. I crave it. I crave her.
She’s pissed at me.
Not like stomping around, fight me pissed like usual. It’s a quiet anger, simmering just beneath the surface. We’re polite to each other. We still ride up together to work on occasion, like today, which was born out of necessity since it’s crowded and why fight for two parking spaces. She’s the one who drove this time while I sat in the passenger seat, feeling helpless. Feeling stupid. At a loss. Wishing I could say something, anything to her to make her hear me out and realize where I’m coming from.
The problem? I have no idea where I’m coming from. I don’t know what I want. From myself, from her, from the two of us together. I want more from Gracie, what else is new, but now it’s forefront in my mind. I’ve kissed her. Touched her. And as usual, she hates me.
Instead of trying to talk to her, I put my AirPods in and put on some banger music that allows me to work out some of my frustration, but not enough.
I was going to talk to Eli about my issues, but before I got the chance, he planned a spontaneous trip to the beach with Ava and they took off a couple of days ago. Tony’s in the Bay Area with Hayden. Diego and Jocelyn are hanging out with Jocelyn’s family for the day and they’ll be around for the fireworks tonight, though I doubt I’ll get a chance to see them, it’ll be so crowded. Their daughter, Gigi, can’t handle the fireworks. She screams and cries every time, so she’s staying home with her grandparents.
Here I am all alone, trying to figure this shit out with Gracie— while she’s still mad at me, barely looking at me, barely even talking to me.
It sucks.
We’re busy all afternoon, helping people out with their rentals, assisting them with launching their boats into the lake. We’ve gone out throughout the day and rescued a couple of boats. One of our patio boats stalled out. A couple of jet skis ran out of gas. Some old guy steered his fishing boat right into the rocks.
Typical busy day.
Gracie spends most of it in the office, helping out customers. They wait in line to talk to her, full of questions and concerns, needing help with this, that and the other. All the while, she keeps her cool and does what she can with a smile on her face, looking patriotic as fuck with her red Mitchell’s Landing T-shirt, the white shorts that make her legs look extra-long and her hair pulled back into a high ponytail with a navy blue and white star spangled scrunchie.
I stare at her as she walks by, my gaze glued to her tanned legs. They’re golden brown and I bet they’d be smooth to the touch. I remember her tangy sweet lips and when my gaze finds her mouth, it’s formed into a firm line. Almost a frown.
As in, she’s caught me staring and she’s currently giving me icicle vibes.
“I need to get laid,” I tell no one in particular once she’s out of earshot.
“There are about six girls up in the restaurant right now who would take you up on that offer,” my coworker Aidan says. The guy is nineteen, and went to the same high school as I did. He’s cool. A complete horn dog, so we have that in common.
“I don’t fuck where I eat,” I tell him, making him laugh.
“I thought you and Gracie had a thing going. That’s what Noelle said,” Aidan tells me.
“I told her that to get her off my back,” I admit. “Gracie is just a friend.”
“She’s a fucking hottie.” We both swivel our heads at the same time to watch her enter the dock office. “I’d totally hit that.”
I tamp down the jealousy rising in me. He’d never have a chance. Gracie eats douchebags like him for breakfast. “Again, I can’t fuck where I eat. I should find a tourist.”
“There are some babes hanging around here this weekend,” Aidan says with a grin. “Take a break. Go up to the restaurant. I’m sure you’ll find a couple of girls who are interested in whatever you’re putting down.”
This kid talks like an idiot. He reminds me of myself. “You don’t mind if I take my break right now?”
“Nah. Go for it,” Aidan says. “We’ve got this handled.”
It’s fairly quiet at the moment. The calm before the storm. Soon a bunch of boats will be brought back in for the night. And still others will launch out into the water, ready for the fireworks show. At seven there will be a boat parade and people will shout and cheer for the most patriotically decorated boat. It’s a ritual that happens every single year without fail.
“I’ll be back,” I tell Aidan as I walk away from him.
I pass by the dock office, see Gracie standing in the open window chatting with customers about what time the fireworks are starting tonight. Don’t know how many times I’ve heard that conversation today, but I’m sure she’s sick of talking about it. I try to catch her eye, but it’s like she refuses to look at me and so I stalk my way up the sidewalk that leads to the dock, cross the road and head into the restaurant by way of the general store.
All the girls who work inside call my name in greeting when I enter, waving and smiling like they’re actually glad to see me, unlike another girl I know. I bask in their adoration, not caring if they mean it or not. I need their compliments and enthusiasm because I can’t remember the last time I had a girl actually excited to see me.
I make random conversation while one of them scoops up an ice cream for me, coffee flavored in a sugar cone. After I pay, I head outside and sit at one of the picnic tables on the patio, scrolling through my phone, already bored out of my mind.
Lifting my head, my gaze goes to the dock, where Gracie is currently standing and chatting with Aidan. She’s laughing at whatever he says, the sun glinting off her hair, making it shine.
Making her shine.
My chest aches from watching her and I hate that she looks so happy with someone else while all she can manage to do is scowl at me. How did I fuck this up so badly? Why is she so angry at me? I thought we were doing okay. I thought we were being real with each other.
Guess we can’t do that after all. It sends everything to shit.
There are tourists everywhere. Plenty of girls in bikinis or with a towel wrapped around their waist. Or a T-shirt covering their swimsuits, the fabric damp and clingy, their hair hanging around their faces. They’re all pretty, with sun-burnished cheeks and big smiles, the scent of suntan oil or sunscreen clinging to their skin. I smile at more than a few of them and they smile in return, though not one of them tries to talk to me.
And I don’t talk to them either. I don’t feel like it.
This…is alarming. Am I losing my mojo? Maybe I don’t have what it takes any longer. I’ve burned out, which is a shitty feeling. I can’t burn out. Not now. I’m only halfway through college. I need to keep up the same level of good-time party guy for the next two years. I need to live it up during this time of my life, because I’m never going to get it back.
Frustration growing, I toss the remainder of my ice cream cone into the trash before I head back to the dock and throw myself back into work.
“Take a rest,” TJ tells us when the boat parade is about to start. “Relax. The hardest part is done.”
Aidan and I share a bench that sits directly in front of the office and faces the water, both of us swigging down water, though I secretly wish for a beer. Alcohol might ease the tension between my shoulders.