Page 70 of Summer, in Between
‘Go ahead, Scampo,’ says Paul.‘I’ll catch up.’
‘Nah, it’s all right, I can wait.The waves aren’t going anywhere, hey?’
‘Mate.I’ll catch up.’
Ant’s eyes dart between us.‘Ahh, yep, sorry, yeah okay.See ya out there.See ya, Cat.’
‘Have fun, Ant,’ I say.‘Non annegare.’He laughs.
‘It means don’t drown,’ I translate.‘Oh, and Ant,attenzione agli squali!’
‘Don’t put that shit in my head, I’ll never go out.’He steps onto the rocks.
Paul raises an eyebrow at me.
‘Keep an eye out for sharks,’ I shrug.‘Just channelling my inner Nonna.’
‘He’s the shark,’ Paul says.‘He has a massive crush on you, but who can blame him?He has a pulse.And eyes.’
‘Don’t you think you’re a little too mature to use the word “crush”?Anyway, he doesn’t.We just get each other.We both have grandmothers that drive us crazy.That’s not a crush; it’s pure sympathy.Maybe a bit of solidarity too.’
‘Enough about Scampo.’Paul takes my hand.‘I’m sorry about taking off like I did earlier.’
‘Honestly, I don’t blame you for taking off.I’m surprised you’re even standing here talking to me after I keep being such a fuckwit to you.’
‘Hey, that’s my girl you’re talking about.’He tugs gently at my hand, squeezing.
My stomach flips.
‘Yeah, well, your girl is sorry.Your girl is going to stop listening to her inner nasty bitch.’
‘What?’
‘It’s a book.You know, about the voices in your head that whisper horrible stuff to you?’
He looks at me blankly, still holding my hand.
‘Anyway, point being, after you left, I had a cry, and then I rang Sal, my unofficial and unqualified head doctor, and her take on me is that given your beautiful walking surfer god status and my lowly school girl status there is a power imbalance that I’m making up for with bitchiness that’s actually self-sabotage.’
‘Hang on.’Paul tilts his head to one side.He looks over my head, and then back to me.‘Power imbalance?Sabotage?Wait, you cried?You told your friend I made you cry?Youcried?’
‘Just a little bit.But I made myself cry by being so horrible to you.’
‘Oh man, Cat, that’s not what I want to hear.’Paul lays his board on the sand and wraps his arms around me, my face against his chest, the rubber arms of his wetsuit against my bare knees.I breathe the faint coconut of his sunscreen.‘I hate that you cried.I never want to make you cry.Never in a million years.’
‘Your abs could make me cry right now,’ I say.‘You’re like every teenage girl’s summer dream come to life.I mean, look at you.’
Paul sits and runs his hand over his head.‘Listen, I think we need to talk.’He sits and pats the sand beside him.‘You keep going on with this walking god bull but honestly it makes me really, I dunno, uncomfortable.’
‘What, like you don’t know that you’re hot?’I slump beside him.
‘That’s what I mean – when you say stuff like that.It’s like when you told your friend that we’re having a fling.I don’t know how to explain it, but I feel like a piece of meat, like that’s all I mean to you, and that’s all I have to offer someone like you.’
‘Someone like me?’
‘This is why I get all up in my head.Of course, I’m happy you’re into me.You’re beautiful but you’re so much more than that, you got me?’He traces the outline of my jaw, then taps me on the temple.‘I want you to see me the same way but if I really think about it, I’m pretty much shit-scared that you won’t.That’smyinner bitch, that’s what you called it, yeah?Mine loves reminding me that one day, years from now, you’ll be a doctor, or a lawyer, and you’ll be telling your friends about the summer you had slumming it with a dumbarse tradie.’
‘Slumming it?That’s a horrible thing to say.’I bring my knees up to my chest and my feet sink into the sand.‘It’s not even close to true, and anyway, did you forget that my dad is a dumb arse tradie?Is my mum slumming it?What do you think that says about my life, my family?’
