Page 107 of Summer, in Between
45
IT’S been hot sinceI woke up.I can see the peaks of the ocean from the balcony, choppy and rough.I’m buzzy and tingly all over, the feeling that only comes from being taken way past the point of delirium by a beautiful walking surfer god.I feel so happy I could sing as I walk to the beach, and to prove it, I belt out a tune, our song, while no one is around.
As I reach the surf beach car park I decide to stop and use the bathroom before I hit the beach.I must still be delirious; normally I’d prefer to pee myself in public than expose myself to a plague from that toilet block.It’s an ugly, roofless brick box, divided in two by a sad, solitary brick wall.Inside, the floor is covered with sand and what I hope is sea water.I’m barefoot as usual, so go right up on my toes to avoid stepping in the tea-coloured puddles.There’s a row of three toilets with that special ambiance only found in public toilets.The bowls are rust-stained, the toilets sans seats – not that in a million years I’d ever sit down on one – and opposite the toilets are three showers, all missing doors.Water cascades from the middle shower and there’s Isabel, standing inside in only her undies.
‘Kitty Cat.’She turns off the water.Her feet are bare, the red of her toenails shocking against the pale of her pruned feet.‘Can I help you?’
‘Why would you ever showerhere?’
‘Where else?Are you inviting me to your place?Are we friends now?’She wraps a towel around herself.
‘You’re the one who stopped talking to me, Isabel.I’m the boring Stuck-Up Bitch, remember?’
‘Funny that’s the way you remember it.’She drops the towel onto the bench and pulls on a dress.
‘Whatever.’
‘Whatever,’ she mimics me in a high voice.
‘Is that supposed to burn?’I slow clap.‘Good on you.Look at yourself, showering in this cesspit.What are you trying to wash off?’
‘You’re such a hypocrite.The Gap is Skanksville, but doing the deed in a car on the side of the road is, what was the word?Special?No, wait, that’s not it.Sacred!Yes, I hearyourhookup was sacred.I’m surprised you can even walk from what Cavey told me.’
‘What?’My mouth goes dry.
‘I heard you had quite the night.’
‘What exactly did you hear?’
‘Nothing that I haven’t already had, me and half of the population.’
‘What are you even talking about?You two were never a thing.’
‘You’re so deluded, Cat.Look at you, thinking you have your hot boyfriend wrapped around your little finger.You think he’d choose you?Really?’
‘He did choose me, Isabel.All summer he’s chosen me.He chose me last night.’
‘Yeah, I know last night he was with you.Everyone knows.He did what no one thought was possible and hooked up with the stuck-up rich girl.How long do you think until he gets bored of you and goes back to being with someone who has a personality?’
‘Like you?Yeah, right.’
‘Wouldn’t be the first time.Or even the third or the fourth.’She rubs at her wet hair with her towel.‘That’s if I wanted to, but I like Cavey.He’s not so up himself.’
‘Good one.You think Paul would touch someone like you with a ten-foot pole?And yet I’m delusional.’
‘God, how gullible can you be?You might have him locked down this summer, but what about the summer before this and the summer before that?Ooh, that reminds me.Remember the last time we bumped into each other here?’
‘I do.You pulled an all-nighter, and you were angry I wasn’t okay with that.’The memory floods.Isabel sitting on the bench, a long red scratch down her leg, teeth chattering, telling me that after I’d left a Gap party she’d stayed with the Neanderthals.There was a fire, stars, vodka from the bottle, waking on the beach right before sunrise.‘We were 15.You called me a stuck-up virgin and told me to fuck off.’
