Get-Together Summer (11 page)

A dish half-clattered before him, startling him out
of his thoughts. He looked up at the waitress, whose expression was
bored again.

"There you go, pancake breakfast," she said. She eyed
his cup. "I'll get you more juice."

Simon nodded, looking down at his plate. The pancakes
looked rather mournful, pale yellow at their edges and barely brown
in the center, already drowned in a puddle of pale syrup and
crowned by a generous scoop of butter. The bacon was thick but
light-brown in color, half-submerged under the flood of syrup as
well. The eggs were a meager little pile, nearly the same pale
yellow color as the pancakes. "Um. Thank you."

He looked up and found the waitress already gone.
With a sigh he picked up his fork, prodding at the pancakes; they
almost certainly weren't going to be as good as the ones Dirk had
made. He cut himself a small triangle with the edge of his fork,
watching as the waitress reappeared, carrying a fresh glass of
juice to be switched out with his half-empty one. She didn't bother
to try with small talk again, sweeping away to the front of the
restaurant.

Simon ate his meal slowly. The pancakes tasted doughy
and thick, sticking to his mouth and throat even as he chewed and
swallowed. The bacon was salty and eggs had no flavor; he gave up
before the plate was even half empty, pushing it away and bringing
his cup closer to nurse its dregs. Really, he wasn't even
surprised; he wasn't hungry enough to be eager for a second
breakfast, and it was enough like the one Dirk had made to fall
embarrassingly short. He leaned against the wall again, so that his
head rested lightly against the glass, again watching people go
past.

They all looked so happy, he
thought. Even the ones who weren't smiling walked with apparent
purpose, and even those going at a slower pace didn't seem to be
dragging their feet so much as casually taking their time. He
envied them about that ease; he was fairly certain that even if he
did leave the diner and go for a walk, his own black mood would
bring down the collective attitude of the area by at
least
ten
degrees.

He brought his glass up, resting his lip on the rim.
If Haley could see him right now, he thought, she would probably
laugh -- or she would be annoyed; maybe she would yell at him to
stop being so wrapped up in himself and pay attention to the rest
of the world. What was she doing right now? She'd gone back to the
house, and she'd promised that they would be there all day. Maybe
they wouldn't have done anything when he was around out of
deference (though that certainly hadn't stopped them before), but
now that he was out of the house, who knew ...

Simon closed his eyes and thought about the pale arch
of Haley's back, and the dark splay of Dirk's fingers on her hips.
He thought about Haley's sweet sleepy smile when he'd gone to wake
her, and the confident grin on Dirk's face as he'd put together
breakfast. He turned different scenarios in his head over and over,
but still couldn't find a place for himself to slot in. There was
just no room for it, not without seriously disturbing one or the
other or both of them.

"You want more juice?"

He opened his eyes. The waitress was standing by his
table, her arms crossed. She was looking at his half-full plate,
but when he moved, she glanced at him again. Her lips were pursed
and her eyebrows were drawn together; she was definitely judging
him, though she slipped again into an easy plastic smile when her
eyes met his.

"No thank you," he said.

"You done with your food?"

"I think so."

"Ready for the check?"

"Yes." He crossed his arms and lifted his chin a
little, trying to appear as intimidating -- or at least as casually
in control -- as possible. He didn't think he succeeded, from the
way she just raised an eyebrow at him and gave a little shrug
before pulling out the pad she'd taken his order on and tearing off
the top sheet. The total price wasn't bad, and he put his credit
card down after barely glancing at the number. She swept that up
and away, and he leaned back in the booth seat with a sigh. He'd
lost any sort of momentum with her before he'd even ordered, he
thought wryly to himself; he was lucky that as a rule, the Oakleys
didn't frequent places like this, so his mistake wouldn't
necessarily be brought back to haunt him later.

When she returned with his receipt and after Simon
had signed, he slunk out of the diner without a backwards glance.
His stomach felt mostly leaden and uncomfortable, the extra food
weighing heavily inside of him. He kept his shoulders loose and his
pace casual, doing his best to act like he was the same as any
other person in the crowd of unaware, blithely distracted summer
tourists. He walked all the way down to the waterfront, out onto
the rocky outcrop that stretched further out onto the ocean than
the beach itself, and stood at the edge, squinting out into the
wide blue expanse of water. He could hear people shrilling behind
him, girls and boys both, but out here it was just him and a
fisherman in jeans that had been torn off at the knees, the fishing
rod's butt wedged between his crossed knees, apparently fast
asleep.

Simon liked the ocean, even if he didn't like being
outside: it was beautiful as it was vast, and always-changing;
people could attempt to contain it and control it, but in the end,
all of their small beliefs were swept away. When he had been much
younger, his father had told him it was a metaphor for a family
like theirs, born rich and wielding the power it gave them
judiciously, knowing when to pretend to yield and when to crush
others mercilessly. Part of him still appreciated that, though more
of him now wavered in the face of having dealt with Dirk for the
past couple of days. And if it were that easy to sway him, he
reasoned to himself, then perhaps he had not believed as strongly
in his father's words as he'd thought.

But he still liked looking out upon the waves; just
watching the slow ripple of the water and the occasional white
flash of seagulls swooping down, he could feel knots inside of him
slowly relaxing, bit by bit. Even the waves caused by people
splashing around in the shallows faded by the time they reached
where he stood, smoothing into the natural ebb and flow of the
water.

If he were honest, he liked it simply for the fact
that it was beautiful, and the fact that it seemed wide enough to
embrace the entire endless horizon. It didn't remind him of the
Oakleys and their power, it reminded him of Haley, pretty and
perfect and so apparently untouchable, even to him when he'd held
her hand in his or she'd leaned against him in maternal
fussing.

He took a deep breath and held it in his lungs until
they began to ache, then let it out in a sharp huff. He rubbed his
eyes as if to clear them, then turned and began the walk back,
first to the beach, then to the city, and then back to his vacation
home.

The front door was unlocked when he arrived, and when
he opened it, he could hear the sounds of the TV going; from the
sound of it, it was on some sort of commercial. He closed the door
quietly behind himself, this time being sure to lock it, and
stepped out of his shoes. Barefoot he tiptoed down the hallway
towards the den where the TV was, and found that door open as well.
Inside, he could see Dirk's head over the back of the couch, and
draped over the arm of the couch he could see Haley's legs dangling
from the knees down. On the TV a smiling woman posed with a bottle
of fluorescent colored soap, her smile bright and sunny.

Simon took a deep breath and knocked on the opened
door.

"Hi," he said.

Haley immediately shot up, grabbing at the head of
the couch to catch herself, staring at him wide-eyed. Her eyes
looked a little red, he noted. Dirk also turned, and there was no
mistaking the relief in both of their faces. It made him feel a
little embarrassed. He rubbed the back of his neck, staring a bit
off to the side.

"... Can I watch TV with you guys?" As soon as the
words were out of his mouth he cringed slightly; to his own ears it
sounded too much like his childhood, hanging nervously at the edge
of the crowd on the first day of school, before he had learned to
utilize the money his parents had. There were echoes of previous
vacations, too, because even Haley, as tolerant as she could be of
him, didn't always think to invite him whenever she did things.

"Sure," Dirk said, then glanced at Haley.
"Right?"

She nodded slowly, still staring at Simon. "Sure.
It's fine."

Relieved, Simon came forward, sliding onto the couch
between them. It wasn't a narrow one by any means -- the cushions
were wide and plush -- but Haley still had her feet up on it, and
Dirk was sprawled in a sort of sideways slant, which left
relatively little room for him. It felt less like a rejection,
though, and somehow, in its own way, more intimate. Haley prodded
his hip with one of her feet as he settled, flashing him another
smile when he looked her way.

"We're just watching bad B-movies," she said. "But if
you wanna change the channel, just let Dirk know."

He turned his head and Dirk grinned, brandishing the
remote lazily. "You're just in time for the end, anyway. They've
discovered the bad guys' hideout, so they're making their plans to
get in."

"Mmm." He settled back against the couch in a low
slouch. Haley's foot remained pressed against the side of his leg,
and he found himself glancing at it more than once, even as the
commercials ended and the movie started up again. She was barefoot,
her long thin toes loosely curled and pale against the material of
his jeans. The toenails had been painted a pale lavender at some
point.

As he studied it, though, he felt something nudge up
against him from the other side. When he looked, Dirk's leg was
pressed against his, so that his foot was dangling in the space
just in front of Simon's knee. The surprise of it made him freeze,
sucking in a sharp breath and holding it -- but when he glanced at
Dirk's face, Dirk seemed to be absolutely absorbed in watching the
movie. Simon looked back at the screen: there was some large and
awkward-looking animatronic monster flailing around as a woman
screamed and a man opened fire on it. Dirk's leg shifted slightly,
as if with the weight of the rest of his body, but remained pressed
close to Simon's.

He chewed on his lip and let out his held breath
slowly. It was probably nothing more than his imagination, he told
himself sternly. There was no way that Dirk didn't know about how
Simon felt about Haley -- Haley wasn't the sort of person who lied,
and even if she said it wasn't all his business, that wasn't
entirely true, was it? Especially since after their summer vacation
ended, it wasn't as if Simon would simply disappear out of Haley's
life. He was a rival, even if Haley wasn't interested. In the light
of all that, there was no way that Dirk would be doing this sort of
thing deliberately -- maybe he'd been playing footsie with Haley
before Simon had arrived, and he'd already proven himself to be a
great deal more openly touchy than anyone else in the extended
Oakley family. He wouldn't shy away from touch if it happened, but
there was no reason for him to deliberately push for it,
either.

Simon fixed his gaze on the screen,
though he barely registered most of it. He remained acutely aware
of Haley on one side and Dirk on the other, but instead of being
resentful, this time, he felt more relieved that he
could
be this close and
not be rejected. Telling her had been the right thing, he told
himself, and not kissing her had been even better. If he had, he
was sure that none of this easy casual atmosphere would
exist.

The movie ended as expected, with the hero and the
heroine driving off together into the sunset. As the camera faded,
the scattered plasticky pieces of the monster began to twitch, and
an ominous musical sting accompanied the abrupt cut-out. As the
credits began to roll, Dirk stretched flipped the channels lazily
until he landed on the beginning of some sort of cooking show.

"That was stupid," he said, as he cycled through
channels. "Was it trying to be horror or something?"

"Maybe," Haley agreed. "I think it was trying to
imply that the monster would regenerate and attack someone again
later."

"They should have just burned it." He glanced at
Simon and nudged him with a foot. "What do you think?"

"Uh--" Simon blinked rapidly. "What do you mean?"

"Was the monster gonna come back to life? Or maybe it
wasn't dead in the first place?"

"Who knows," he said, a little awkward again. He'd
barely noticed how they'd destroyed the monster in the first place.
"Maybe it was just sequel bait."

"Probably," Haley said. She shifted where she sat so
that she could face them both, then tucked her feet under Simon's
leg. "Might as well, if you've already got the monster put
together."

"It wasn't even that
good
of a design!" Dirk
protested. He gestured to the screen again, where a smiling woman
was chopping an onion, and shifted forward until his knee knocked
against Simon's. "Its face was right there, like it was showing off
or something! It loses at least
half
of its impact when you do
that."

Simon shifted a little himself, staring at the TV
again. Even with the lighthearted tone of the conversation, even
knowing that they'd just finished watching, the conversation made
him just a little nervous. The woman on the TV was nattering
cheerfully as she slid her onions into a frying pan, but her voice
was mostly drowned out in white noise and the conversation
happening around him. He was so focused on watching the closeup of
onions turning caramel brown when Dirk nudged him with a foot
again, making him jump. "Wha--?"