I stop reading for a moment and glance up at my company. Ryan is drifting in and out of sleep, body folded up so that two of his short limbs hang over the edge of the hammock and the other two lie curled up under his stomach. He occasionally opens his eyes and blinks lazily, reminding me of my cat Cocoa back home. The wind blows and ruffles his long black hair, un-gelled and fine like that of a newborn baby.
Afraid
that his bleary eyes will catch on to my staring, I turn my attention to
Matias. He has also fallen asleep. Although he is sprawled out in a chair, his
breath is even and quiet, which makes me believe he is much more lost in deep,
dream-filled rest than Ryan. His farmer’s tan is slowly disappearing as the
rest of his torso catches up to his brown arms and neck. I realize with disgust that I am the only male who has brought sunscreen, lathering
it on every morning and after lunch; my skin prefers to bake differently,
turning pink with bubbly patches of oil and then peeling instead of tanning and
freckling like theirs. I notice how
peaceful he looks compared to his usual self; his jaw no longer works with
stress, his deep brown eyes don’t dart about in fear, and his arms lie
motionless on the chair’s armrests, fingers slightly twitching ever so often.
Abruptly, he turns his head, and light glints off of something and into my eyes.
I realize he is wearing an earring. Upon closer observation, I find that he is wearing three earrings; one tiny diamond in each lobe and a third, small black ball stabbed in the cartilage at the top of his right ear. That’s strange, I
think, contemplating how Ryan has described him, he doesn’t seem like the type. But he’s rather quiet, so who knows?
Only time can tell who he truly is. The breeze brings a tangy, smoky smell
to my nostrils and I cringe, I don’t think that 'true side' of him is going to be very pretty.
Minutes pass. The air is quiet except for the sound of the waves in the distance, and the summer bugs around us chirping a squeeky, screechy, buzzing symphony. It doesn't probably doesn't seem very peaceful to those who have never experienced it, but it is, and for a moment I can relax my shoulders and forget about everything. Then, as if on cue, Professor Braden's little speech and the countdown to next semester floods into my mind and I let out a frustrated sigh. What's wrong with me? I know I shouldn't go into nursing, or the ministry, or art, and I know there's something I should study for the next two years, but I can't put my finger on it.
I would scowl at Ryan, but he might see me, so I give Matias the most unenthused expression I can. A voice in my mind reminds me that he has about twice as many troubles as me, and as a bonus to make me feel sorry for him, a grin fills his previously expressionless face. I forget to glare at him and instead my eyes widen in surprise because I’ve never seen him wear this kind of expression. It’s a big smile, mostly bright pink gums, with a glimpse of his yet unstained white teeth partially hiding under his lower lip. I smile back at him as I realize his smile, in a funny way, reminds me of my horse at home.
Minutes pass. The air is quiet except for the sound of the waves in the distance, and the summer bugs around us chirping a squeeky, screechy, buzzing symphony. It doesn't probably doesn't seem very peaceful to those who have never experienced it, but it is, and for a moment I can relax my shoulders and forget about everything. Then, as if on cue, Professor Braden's little speech and the countdown to next semester floods into my mind and I let out a frustrated sigh. What's wrong with me? I know I shouldn't go into nursing, or the ministry, or art, and I know there's something I should study for the next two years, but I can't put my finger on it.
I would scowl at Ryan, but he might see me, so I give Matias the most unenthused expression I can. A voice in my mind reminds me that he has about twice as many troubles as me, and as a bonus to make me feel sorry for him, a grin fills his previously expressionless face. I forget to glare at him and instead my eyes widen in surprise because I’ve never seen him wear this kind of expression. It’s a big smile, mostly bright pink gums, with a glimpse of his yet unstained white teeth partially hiding under his lower lip. I smile back at him as I realize his smile, in a funny way, reminds me of my horse at home.
So I have Sandy the horse and Cocoa the cat for travelling
buddies, I decide, glancing from Mat to Ryan. I realize with mild shock
that Ryan is fully awake now, his dark eyes studying me with
great interest. He looks like he wants to talk, so I close my book and meet his gaze.
~Cherry Sunsets~
The pictures are from the boardwalk at Duck, Outer Banks, North Carolina. It's really beautiful and somewhere I would love to walk in the evening when the sun is setting over the sound (that's not the ocean you see there!). I was sitting outside on the screened-in porch when I wrote this, imagining what it would be like if I were Jens. My Outer Banks trips are always so amazing because they inspire me incredibly. I almost always come up with a new story to write, and this time, it couldn't be contained. I wrote the first scene of Cherry Sunsets before I even arrived, and titled it after a poem I wrote and a strawberry margarita flavored beer.
I hope anyone who reads the excerpt enjoys it, no matter how much injustice my poor writing does the scene of a lazy summer afternoon at the ocean with friends.
-Argentia
~Cherry Sunsets~
The pictures are from the boardwalk at Duck, Outer Banks, North Carolina. It's really beautiful and somewhere I would love to walk in the evening when the sun is setting over the sound (that's not the ocean you see there!). I was sitting outside on the screened-in porch when I wrote this, imagining what it would be like if I were Jens. My Outer Banks trips are always so amazing because they inspire me incredibly. I almost always come up with a new story to write, and this time, it couldn't be contained. I wrote the first scene of Cherry Sunsets before I even arrived, and titled it after a poem I wrote and a strawberry margarita flavored beer.
I hope anyone who reads the excerpt enjoys it, no matter how much injustice my poor writing does the scene of a lazy summer afternoon at the ocean with friends.
-Argentia
