Page 48 of Beach B!tch
17
Brinley
We left our paddle boards and my life jacket in Dean's truck, and made our way to the painting class. I changed into a summer dress in the car and Dean put on a collared shirt with dry, black shorts. We were seated with a few other couples and started sampling the wine while the instructor told us we'd be painting a still life of a surfboard in front of the ocean. I discovered, even with alcohol in my system, I was still a horrible artist. They could have given me paint-by-numbers and you still wouldn't have been able to tell what I painted. It looked more like a blue tunnel of death with a brown piece of poop in the middle of the chaos.
Dean snorted, choking back laughter, when he saw me try to add the surfboard to the painting with an awkward jabbing motion of my brush. Why I chose brown was truly a mystery, even to me. Then he babbled on about the history of impressionists and the importance of their style of art. It was a sweet attempt, him trying to make me feel better about my lack of artistic talent.
I was at peace with myself. This whole evening wasn't about hoping I could become an artist. I was an athlete and at peace with that being the extent of my natural talent. Tonight was about me being able to drink socially and not become a spaz every time someone had a glass in my presence. I'd had a beer with Autumn earlier and then Dean & I sipped our glasses of wine while we chatted and painted. It was a nice way to spend time together. I'd loosened up a bit with Autumn and my teasing with Dean became a little naughty, but other than that, I didn't get what the big deal was.
What could I say? I was kinda a control freak. And drinking alcohol made me feel too out of control for my liking. Maybe that would change or I'd mellow over time to enjoy a glass of wine now and then. Or maybe I'd always choose not to imbibe, but what I did realize was that I needed to separate someone drinking occasionally from who they were as a person. Drinking in moderation didn't make you a bad person, it just amplified what was already there.
And Dean was a good man. I didn't need to worry or distrust him if he chose to have a drink.
Baby steps.
Unfortunately, it was also baby steps in the sexual experience department too. We went back to my place after the painting party, but we'd only cleared the front doorstep when Dean's phone was ringing again.
He was super apologetic, but in the end, he had to run off to work for a few hours, which meant I went to bed alone, without further progress in losing my V-card. I was beginning to have questions about this lifeguarding job of his. I didn't realize that it required being on-call so much. I figured once his shift was over or the beach closed, his job was done. I'd have to ask him about that.
I studied my play book, along with watching videos of some of the teams Autumn and I would be playing against the following weekend. I was feeling a little differently about this tournament, and as I went to bed, I laid there thinking about what had changed. I still had the bubble of excitement in my stomach and I was still motivated to win so I could get into the pro bracket, but I didn't have that gnawing, desperate feeling in the pit of my stomach. The pressure was there, but it felt lighter. More fun and curious.
The reason finally dawned on me: I wanted to go pro because it was what I wanted to do with my life, not because I felt I had to prove I was worthy of the title.
Tears filled my eyes as I let that feeling soak in.
I was enough. I had nothing to prove. I'd be a volleyball pro when the time was right, I was sure of it.
For the first time in a long while, I fell asleep with a smile on my face and happy dreams floating in my head, not because of a hot man, but because of me.
Dean
I stood in Brin's bedroom doorway for a long while, just watching her sleep. She was on her side, her long hair fanned out on the pillow behind her. She was smiling, like she was in the middle of the best dream. I didn't want to wake her from that, so I just watched her, memorizing her face and the tiny freckles on her nose that she hated so much. The room was lit by the moon outside her window. I took a mental picture of her in this moment, knowing I'd never forget it.
I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep anytime soon with the thoughts in my head. I would have to talk to her tomorrow. I'd have to tell her things that would crush her.
But I promised myself that by sheer force of will, I'd be there to hold her together and make sure she handled this life altering information with the same determination she showed out on the sand.
A selfish, immature part of me just wished I didn't have to be the one to deliver the news and watch her face this new reality. But I knew she'd rather hear it from me and if that could help take even a fraction of the pain away, I would do it in a heartbeat.
I turned off all the lights and slid into bed, wrapping her in my arms and holding on tight. As I buried my nose in her hair and pulled her body into mine, I wished that I could freeze time at this exact moment. If I froze it long enough, maybe all the outside troubles would melt away, leaving Brinley and me in this cocoon where her father couldn't hurt her. If I could absorb that hurt for her, I would.
It didn't escape my attention I was thinking all these noble thoughts that pointed, like neon signs, right at truth: I was over-the-top, crazy in love with Brinley.
I didn't know if she was ready for me to say it to her straight out, nor did I think the status of our relationship would be something she'd worry about once we talked tomorrow morning. I had to put my declaration on the back burner for right now and focus on Brinley. She had to be told the news and the sooner the better, especially with her tournament coming up this weekend. She would need to be focused and in the right state of mind. My feelings could wait.
Brinley
I woke to my alarm blaring away at five in the morning, all warm and snuggly with Dean wrapped around me. Usually I hopped out of bed, ready to get down on the sand and work through all our drills. Funny how everything could change in just a matter of a few weeks. Now I groaned and snuggled closer to Dean's chest, pulling his arm around me tighter.
I didn't know what time he got done with work last night, but I was glad he came back to my place. I could get used to waking up to this every morning. I couldn't imagine my life without Dean in it, teasing me, pinky promising me ridiculous things, kissing me until I forgot my name. And then there was Stefan, who flirted shamelessly with me then dropped wisdom bombs on me when I needed it the most. Whether I would admit it or not, I was also happy to have Beth nosing her way into my life. She appeared smothering at first glance, but deep down I welcomed the overbearing mother routine to fill the empty void I'd had for so long in the mother department.
Dean stirred behind me, his hands rubbing up and down the length of my body. I was about to press back against him in a highly suggestive manner when his hands left my body all at once and he jackknifed up in bed.
"What's wrong?" I asked with wide eyes. I didn't hear a phone so at least that wasn't interrupting us this time.
Dean pivoted and pulled me up so we were sitting up facing each other, our knees pressed together.
"I know you need to get to practice, but we need to talk first. Can I get you a cup of coffee?" Dean looked nervous about talking to me, and offering me coffee first definitely wasn't a good sign.
