He shouldn’t even care, even though his soul aches to go with them, to be part of this collision of fun and laughter. Instead, he has to melt back into being nothing, invisible, alone. He wants this. He absolutely can’t have it.
She swishes around the room, collecting shoes and a towel, adjusting bikini straps peeking out from under her purple sundress.
She catches his eye and he looks away.
‘Coming, dishwasher boy?’
It’s because they don’t know him.
He can trail behind a group of jostling boys as they throw sunscreen and jump on each other’s backs while the sun bakes their shoulders and tugs at freckles, and he can be perfectly unknowable. He’s absolutely mad, of course, to follow them. He left his backpack inside, so he can’t just vanish now. But there’s something intoxicatingly alluring about people who smile, who are caught up in salty air and jokes and everyday adventures, who don’t stop to look at him with shocked eyes that say, How could you do that, Sammy Lou? How could you?
They don’t know him. They don’t know the reason he ran away from home a year ago. Why the police want him. Why his aunt won’t even look at him.
And it feels good.
He walks next to Moxie, because the others’ wildness is equal parts fascinating and terrifying. Plus Moxie moves with a grim, no-nonsense look on her face, like getting to the beach is a mission and she’ll achieve it no matter what.
It’s comforting to be near someone who knows how to get what they want.
The party cuts through a caravan park, which involves scaling a chain-link fence. Sam climbs it too easily, too fast, and feels Moxie watching him. Maybe try to look less like a criminal who knows how to escape, OK, Sammy Lou?
The shortcut takes them down a sandy track and then bushes fold back to reveal the sparkling sea, blue enough to make your eyes ache.
The boys take off towards the cliffs and tumbled rocks, throwing towels and shirts. Moxie rolls her eyes and keeps her towel rolled up and sand-free.
She glances sideways at Sam. ‘Are you swimming in jeans? Because if you drown, guess who’s not rescuing you.’
Sam shrugs in what he hopes is a nonchalant and convincing matter like yeah, sure, this isn’t so weird.
Jeremy, still struggling out of his shirt, wads up the fabric and throws it at Moxie’s head. She bats it off and glares.
‘Eh, just swim in your boxers,’ Jeremy says lightly.
‘And there he goes,’ Moxie says, ‘trying to get everyone out of their pants.’
‘I’m fine.’ Sam reaches to pull his stolen T-shirt off and then remembers the boot-print bruise. He jerks the hem down quickly. Jeremy doesn’t seem to notice, but a quick glance at Moxie shows she saw.
She purses her lips together, like she’ll ask.
Please don’t ask.
‘Just in case you haven’t been here before,’ Jeremy is saying, ‘we all jump off the rocks like brainless maniacs. It’s deep enough. We threw Jack in headfirst to test it once. No broken neck.’
‘Pity,’ mutters Moxie.
‘Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’ Jeremy claps Sam on the shoulder and grins broadly and Sam doesn’t break it to him that he has no idea what Jeremy would or would not do. ‘And definitely don’t do anything Jack wouldn’t do. Actually, don’t do anything Jack would do. Just when it comes to Jack, don’t.’
Sam opens his mouth to answer, but Moxie chooses that moment to shrug out of her sundress. Sam finds himself looking anywhere but at her indigo bikini. And then realises how conspicuous that is. And then realises he’s blushing. And then decides he needs to go drown.
Moxie catches her frizzy hair into a knot and then storms off to the rocks where the others are jumping. Moxie never so much walks as marches with angry intensity. Sam wonders if it’s because she has to hold her own amongst so many brothers.
Jeremy pats Sam on the shoulder. ‘You look nervous. Never fear! I’ll haul you out by your ankles if you start drowning.’ He gives Sam a cheerful shove and then jogs towards the others.
Sam considers just sitting by the towels, but that would draw more attention, wouldn’t it? He rolls up his jean cuffs and trails down to the water.
White foam waves break along the beach line, but this close to the cliffs, the ocean has carved out deep pools between rocks. It’s probably not the safest thing in the world to climb on them and vault off – but that’s exactly what everyone’s doing. The water seems deep. The rocks are hot. It’s impossible not to yield to their salty lure and climb from one to the other while all round him people push each other into the bright blue sea.
He finds himself following Moxie, as she hops nimbly to one of the highest peaks. Jack is already up there, peering over the edge, wet hair plastered about his ears.
‘Don’t you jump from up here, you moron.’ Moxie’s tone is warning.
Jack ignores her, eyes lighting on Sam. ‘Dude, you have five seconds to get wet or I’m throwing you in headfirst.’
‘Not from up here,’ Moxie says again. ‘This is a new level of dangerous.’
‘Yes, Grandma.’
‘Oh well, by all means go split your head open,’ Moxie says. ‘I’ve always wanted to see if there are brains in that skull of yours or just handfuls of stupid.’
Jack grabs her and she shrieks and beats at him with bunched fists. She’s laughing though, and Jack shoves her around without letting her get too close to the edge. Sam’s heart still crawls into his mouth. His eyes say they’re just playing but his brain trips back to memories of Avery being slammed to the ground by their dad, getting up with a bloody mouth and terrified eyes.
He looks away. He can’t imagine Avery enjoying this day. He tries, but he just can’t. Avery would watch with slitted eyes, fail to figure out why this is supposed to be fun, and leave.
Jack and Moxie start to climb down, bickering about how many ‘handfuls of stupid’ a skull could hold, when Sam backs up until he’s got no room left – and then he runs.
‘Hey!’ someone says, a note of panic in their voice.
Moxie? Jack? Does it matter?
Wind batters their words away and then Sam leaps, toes pushing off the rough rock and then tucking into his chest as he curves into a somersault.
And for a moment he’s
f
l g
y n
i
He hits the sea.
And the sea hits him.
Water rushes up his nose and smashes into his ears and buries him in writhing white foam. It’s shockingly cool. His legs and arms kick out like lanky spider limbs and he surges back up. It’s so beautiful underwater, so quiet, so peaceful, he almost wants to stay down.