Page 4 of We Thought We Were Invincible
“You forget, I know you better than anyone.”
“Yeah, don't think I could forget that if I tried.”
We walked down the beach toward a fledgling bonfire that was sputtering and trying to pick up steam. Three boys stood around it, arms crossed as they tried to look like they knew what they were doing.
“Think they need help?” My brother walked up beside us.
“Nah,” Jay and I said at the same time.
“You two just want to watch them screw it up.”
“That's preposterous,” Jay used his best British accent, raising one finger in the air toward my brother.
Colby swatted it away, shaking his head as I laughed.
“Well, I want a fire.” Colby walked away, calling back over his shoulder. “Besides, I'm not an ass.”
When he was out of earshot, Jay held up his hand, pretending it was a microphone. “Well, let's ask his sister about the truthfulness of that last statement.” He angled it toward me.
“Well, Jeeves, I think I'd have to say someone's pants are on fire.”
“You heard it here first, folks. The pants - the pants are on fire.”
We were both holding our stomachs laughing.
“Jeeves, huh?” he asked.
“It was the British accent.”
“Ah, you do get me, California girl.”
I flinched away from him.
“Sorry.” He bumped his shoulder into mine.
“It's fine.”
My mom named me California because that was the dream. She'd always wanted to live there, surfing every day. It was a dream left unfulfilled. When she got pregnant, she had to be more realistic, moving home to where her ailing father lived. I was eight the first time I asked her about my name. At first, I thought I represented something she had to give up.
I reached up, touching my cheek as if I could still feel her hand there as she told me I didn't represent a failed dream, only a new one.
Colby was busy putting more driftwood onto the fire as we chose a place to sit. We all had plenty of experience with beach fires. Colby, Jamie, Jay, and I used to have them all the time. We stopped last summer when we were caught enjoying one without a permit. Our fires were some of the only times we all hung out over the last few years.
Leaning forward, I dug my hands into the warm sand, feeling it shift back into place with every movement, each grain knowing where it belonged.
The golden sun hung just where the water met the sky on the horizon, casting colors across the darkening space.
“Want something to drink?” Jay asked.
“Sure.”
He got up to leave just as Colby walked toward me with Morgan Cook by his side. I had nothing against Morgan, but I didn't particularly like her either. She was one of those girls that everything seemed to come too easy for. Everyone wanted to be her friend. She was gorgeous with her cute blond bob and athletic build. No one could match her on the soccer field. Her dad was a bigwig doctor at the hospital in town, yet missed none of her games, sitting there with his perfect wife.
Was it wrong to be jealous? Was I a horrible person to wish she was a bitch? But no, she was so damn nice that I felt guilty for even disliking her a little.
“Callie,” Colby called. “Is this great, or what?” He gestured back to the fire that was now building.
“You did great, oh genius one.” I bent at the waist to give him a bow.
