The Ocean Page 3

  What else had he said? I racked my brain. Before I met her, Alex had seemed insignificant almost. He was a typical jock who came in at the last hour with promises to save the team this season from the embarrassment of the last eight years. Chiz liked him right away, so that had warned me to keep my distance. Chiz didn’t like anyone who didn’t benefit him. Why was I thinking about Chiz? I wanted to think about Gia. What else did I remember? He hated their dad, probably another forbidden topic. This Alex hadn’t said; he just cal ed him by his first name, and his voice was thick with contempt when he spoke of him.

  Gia. The day I’d seen her on the beach, I felt my heart would explode; it pounded out of my chest. As luck would have it, Mason threw the bal that far out of my reach. I stil hadn’t found out if he’d thrown it like that on purpose or not. From the time she had stepped onto the pier, I was keenly aware of her. Sitting on the sand, she’d looked so sad. She was entranced by the waves off the Gulf. I’d yel ed for her to look out twice before she actual y did the third time. Then when she fel over, her legs sprawled; she had legs that went on forever. When she looked up, so fragile, I imagined kissing her and what it would feel like. She caught me sizing her up; she was quick. I liked that too. I wil ed her to look back at me when she left. Final y she did. Gia.

  I couldn’t believe it when I saw her leaving the beach with Alex tonight. Until that moment, I hadn’t put it together, that she might actual y be real and that I might see her again. Chiz and Mason had begged me to go surfing. I’d have preferred staying home and hanging out with Mom on her only day off for two weeks. But she told me to enjoy my last day before school. I now was forever grateful. I couldn’t focus on surfing though. I rode a few waves, and I snuck off to my car to change. I was nervous about the way Chiz was looking at her. Alex would probably approve of his friend going for her.

  I hadn’t been able to think of anything to talk about. Stupid prison jokes. But she played along. She showed me her pictures. She didn’t have many friends, but I didn’t see any boys groping her in her pictures. That was what I was real y looking for. Yeah, there were guys but none that had hands al over her, none that looked at her the way I wanted to look at her. Her style seemed simple. The only piece of jewelry she wore was a ring that said LOVE. I put in my ear buds and remembered some of the songs we had that were the same. I’d make a play list tomorrow, but for now I picked those songs and played them as I stared at my ceiling.

  School. It would be here before I knew it, so long as I could go to sleep. The plan. What was the plan? I didn’t have a plan. I would wing it. I was real y good at winging it. I final y fel asleep after replaying the evening over and over in my head and looking at the picture on my phone a dozen times.

  There was a soft buzzing sound. At first in the distance, a low buzz, buzz, buzz. Then, as I realized it wasn’t supposed to be in my dream, the buzz became louder and louder as I woke up. I heard my mom talking. What did she say? Late? My eyes flashed open.

  “I knew that would get your attention; you need to leave in five minutes.” I jumped up, ran to my bathroom, brushed my teeth, splashed water through my hair and on my face. I rummaged through the clothes on my floor for a pair of unwrinkled jeans and grabbed a shirt from my drawers. Socks and shoes went on as I stumbled down the stairs. My mom sat eating breakfast with my sister. She tossed me a banana, and I was out the door. I’d put my book bag in my car two days before because I knew I’d forget it if I didn’t. It was a good thing, too, because I was at school before I even thought of it.

  I found my locker, put my stuff up, and grabbed a notebook for my first class. I slammed my door shut, and there she was a few lockers away from me in a camo army green short pleated skirt and a black cotton top. Was I real y this lucky? I stepped sideways toward her.

  “Hey,” I smiled hopeful y. She glanced over, concentrating first and then instantly smiling when she recognized me.

  “Hi.” She put up her messenger bag; it was army green with buttons, patches, and marker drawings on it. It looked vintage.

  “What’s your first class?” I was hoping for chemistry.

  “English. Then Algebra 3, and then Spanish.” She didn’t even look at her schedule.

  “Then lunch?” I asked, hopeful again.

  “Yeah, I think so.” She was closing her locker now with a spiral notebook and a worn composition notebook in her hands.

  “Alright, I’l see you then.” I turned as the five-minute warning bel sounded. I had to be across the building on the third floor by the time the next bel rang. I made myself walk casual y. I looked back at her as she disappeared into the herd of students. Once I knew she was gone, I ran. I took two steps at a time up the stairs and made it to an empty seat in the middle of the classroom, the only one left, just as the bel rang. In my rush not to be late to my first class of the first day of school, I didn’t bother looking around to see if any of my friends were in my class.

  “You were M.I.A. this weekend. Why didn’t you return my cal s?” I knew that voice. Jil ian. Gorgeous, sexy, hot Jil ; and before last spring I honestly thought she was the girl I’d probably marry after high school. She had been my girlfriend since the seventh grade. But I had final y realized she took what she wanted and didn’t care who she hurt. In her last scheme (or the last scheme that I knew about) a girl had broken her leg, and a teacher had been fired, but Jil ian had landed on top of the cheerleaders’ pyramid with the title of head cheerleader. When I realized what she had done, I broke up with her. Only recently, after she’d seemed to have made some amends, was I speaking to her casual y. I didn’t real y want to tel her how much she disgusted me. Just because she was mean, didn’t mean I had to be. I shrugged and looked toward the teacher who was reading off names. He rambled something about lab partners; I looked at Jil and groaned, realizing he’d just paired us together. Pleased, she smiled.

  “Wel , the least you can do is walk me to my next class, English. You at least owe me that. I’m going to carry you for this A.” She was opening her book to the page the teacher had just instructed us.

  “I think you can find it on your own, and for the record,” I turned, leaned across the table looking her in the eye so she knew I was serious, “I don’t owe you ANYTHING. I can take care of my own grade.”

  “Travis, please read out loud the first paragraph there.” I held her eye contact until she looked away. Mr. Jackson was looking down at me over his glasses.

  “What page again?” I turned back and acted innocent.

  “Fourteen.” He returned to the book on his podium. I found the page and read out loud about exploring the wonders of chemistry.

  As if chemistry weren’t bad enough, then there was Spanish class, and U.S. History. What kept me sane was the knowledge that lunch was coming.

  I would have thirty minutes of uninterrupted face time with Gia. I put my history book back in my locker. I began organizing things impatiently, waiting for her to show up. I looked up and down both directions of the hal ; she had to be coming soon. Then I saw her head bobbing. I thought she saw me. “Stay calm, be cool,” I said under my breath while I concentrated on the bottom of my locker as if I were looking for something.

  “GIA! GIA!” We both turned our heads in the direction of the voice. Gia reached her locker, not seeing me but looking at the curly red head bouncing down the hal . Abby, I thought. You couldn’t miss those curls, now streaked with bleached blond strands making sporadic parts of her hair white.

  That was new. It would have given her an edge if she weren’t an A+ student and on every geek squad this side of the Atlantic. I chuckled to myself.

  She was a cool girl though, cal ed it like she saw it. She had advised me to “open my eyes,” when things started to seem wrong with Jil ian. I’d always be grateful to her for that.

  “I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Abby gushed. “Did Alex give you my new number? I stopped by you know. Ohmigawd, look at you; you’re al grown up! I’m total y digging your skirt. Do you
have lunch next?” Laughing at Abby, Gia closed her locker.

  “Wel …,” she slowly said, pausing for effect, “I didn’t even know where to begin looking for you; this school is so confusing.” She held up her phone.

  “Alex gave me A number for you; he wrote it down wrong. And look at you! You’re so gorgeous! I. Love. Your hair. Where’d you get it done? Final y, yes, I have lunch next.” She turned toward me. I was stil pretending to be searching my locker, but I got the feeling that she had seen me when she was walking up. “Travis was going to eat with me.” I looked up when I heard my name, acting as though it was the only part I’d heard.

  “You wanna join us Abbs?” I had earned the right to cal her that. She’d been a good friend who’d actual y kept her distance during school hours and not tried to be my instant best friend, or worse, had a hidden agenda to get me to go out with her, so because of that I’d been able to skip the games of don’t speak to me in the hall, but you can tutor me after school. She actual y did tutor me last year in geometry. I always talked to her in the few classes we had together, sometimes inviting her to the clique outings we went on. She always declined, I think feeling that she didn’t fit right in that circle of friends.

  “Sure, Travis. How do you two know each other?” She winked at me, instantly approving my interest in her friend. Was I that obvious?

  “We met this weekend at the pier. When Mason almost clocked her with a footbal ,” I chuckled. Gia’s face darkened a little, though I wasn’t sure why.

  “And then a bonfire last night. I had fun.” She smiled at me and then looked to her friend; we were now walking toward the cafeteria.

  “I miss al the action!” Abby sighed dramatical y.

  “Wel , I would have invited you if I’d have had the right number for you. Next time you write it down, or at least proofread his note.” Gia shook her head, giggling.

  We got into line as I surveyed the room. It was set up like the solar system, jocks in the middle next to the cheerleaders, like they were the center of the universe. Then the groups fanned out depending on the popularity of the clique. Band sat somewhere close to the jocks because for some reason a lot of kids were in the marching band. Of course, drummers were cooler than the tuba players, so they were closer to the most popular tables. However, orchestra sat further out, and Chess Club was on the outskirts. I suddenly didn’t know where I fit into the picture. I could have easily sat with the popular kids, but then thinking of Gia, I wanted to be alone with her. Table for two –err three. As we moved through the line, Gia and Abby chatted about their days so far.

  “What do you have next?” Abby asked as we inched along.

  “Speech with Franklin, free period, and then Art Composition, final y U.S. History with Martin,” she sighed.

  “I have speech next.” I was relieved to find out I shared an easy class with her.

  “I have Art Comp seventh too,” Abby added, equal y happy.

  “Good, because aside from Alex, you guys are my only friends,” she laughed, and Abby and I smiled.

  “It must be nerve-racking coming to this school, being a new student junior year after you’ve been at the same school for so long.” Abby was voicing my thoughts.

  “Wel , we moved around a lot before we settled in Fishers five years ago. It would have been nice to graduate with my friends, but I feel worse for Alex; he’s a senior.” She swiped her prepaid lunch card. Abby fol owed, then me. “I mean we both went to the same junior high and then high school; it would have been nice, but what can we do? Oliver lives here. He wasn’t going to sel his house and the bar to move to Indy for us.” There was a deep sadness in her voice, almost like that was what she wished her father had done, to al ow them to graduate with their friends.

  “Wel , I’m glad you’re here.” Abby hugged her sideways.

  “Me, too,” I echoed a little softer.

  “Where are we going to sit?” Abby abruptly changed the subject, lightening the mood as we surveyed the cafeteria.

  “Over there, an empty table.” I pointed. Abby led the way. We weren’t sitting there very long before Alex and Mason joined us.

  “Alex, I can’t believe you gave Gia the wrong number!” Abby started in on him.

  “I read it back to you!” Alex defended.

  “You weren’t paying attention. Weren’t you watching Cartoon Network?” Abby was relentless.

  “Hey, there are some quality shows on that channel. Very educational,” Alex stil defended.

  “Don’t worry, Abby, I already ripped him a new one when I cal ed and got the China Castle. ‘Best al you can eat crab legs east of the Orient,’“ Gia said between bites.

  “That sounds real y good,” Mason piped in, scowling at his meatloaf. “Now I want seafood.” We al laughed. Chiz, who had been eating in the center of the room, sauntered over and sat beside Alex, discussing—what else—footbal plays. Abby and Gia began talking quietly and looking at their phones. Mason turned to me.

  “Good cal on that air bal Saturday, huh? She seems into you.” He winked at me as he drank his Gatorade.

  “Dude, I thought you did that on purpose.” I nudged him with my elbow. “Definitely, a good cal .”

  “I saw the way you were looking at her when she stood on the pier and you couldn’t even see her that wel . She’s hot,” Mason stated matter-of-factly,

  “but keep your eyes on that guy.” He motioned toward Chiz. Ah, Mason, wise beyond his years. We were always wary of Chiz.

  “You know why they cal me Chiz, right?” Chiz had somehow managed to drag Gia into their conversation.

  “Because you eat a lot of Cheese Whiz?” she asked innocently. I decided that I might just love this girl.

  “Dude! NO! But I do like Cheese Whiz on crackers.” He distracted easily; just throw something shiny in front of him. “Anyway, the ladies gave me that name because I’m so chiseled. I mean look at me; I’m a rock.” He lifted his shirt and flashed his abs. Mason and I shook our heads and laughed. Chiz had given himself the name and insisted we cal him that. Gia looked at Mason and me with her eyebrows raised.

  “Wel , you know what they say about steroids, right? It makes your wee-wee, wel , wee-wee.” She held her pointer finger and her thumb an inch apart, but she kept her gaze innocent and smiled politely. Both she and Abby stood with their trays and turned to walk away.

  “Baby, this isn’t steroids! This is hard work! It took a whole summer to get this ripped! I was puny,” he cal ed after her.

  “Not helping your point, dude,” Mason said. He patted Alex on the back saying, “Good luck,” and we stood to take our trays to the return also. Alex had a panicked don’t leave me alone with him expression on his face. Maybe he was cooler than I’d original y given him credit for, so I saved him.

  “Alex, I have those protein bars I was tel ing you about in my locker. Do you want one for before practice today?”

  “Yeah, I’m coming.” He didn’t even tel Chiz “later” as he ran and caught up with us.

  “Thanks, man,” he said under his breath.

  “No problem.”

  And to think I almost took choir instead of speech. How glad was I that I hadn’t listened to Mrs. Kensington when she said I had a lovely voice. Gia and I arrived in our class and found two seats beside each other. Mr. Franklin was the drama instructor. He was dressed in very bright colors and waved his hands very flamboyantly. If there were a Gay Pride Parade, you would picture him front and center. Maybe he was in a closet of some sort, but he was married to a smoking hot Cuban woman ten years younger than him. They had three rambunctious boys that were involved heavily in the sports program and the community drama program. It was a little awkward to see them out as a family. He was very doting, and she looked at him like she would eat him up. I heard him speak of her once to another faculty member. I remember him saying, “There is something glorious about finding your soul mate. Pita gets me in a way that is amazing. And when we make love, mountains move.” I shuddered at t
he image; I took the memory of a TMI conversation too far. Gia looked over at me quizzical y. I half-smiled at her, relieved when Mr. Franklin began speaking.

  “We are going to have an amazingly fun year this year. I am going to push you to your dramatic limits, but don’t worry; I’l bring you back. That said, this is a safe place where we can share dialogue, and where we can create. We wil get to know each other intimately.” I looked over at Gia. Her complexion darkened again. He continued, “Through our words we wil break down wal s. Itineraries.” He scanned his podium as he held up a stack of papers, the itineraries. Then he scanned the faces, pausing on Gia’s.

  He began again as he passed out the papers. “For our first exercise, we wil get to know each other. Each of you wil have a minute and an half to talk about anything you want. I’d like you al to stand in the back of the room. As I cal your name, come forward, introduce yourself, and show me what you’ve got.” We did as instructed. “Jackson Adams.” Jackson went forward and spoke of his missionary trip to Haiti. “Mr. Adams, please take this first seat here.” Jackson moved his stuff to the new seat.

  “Ugh,” I groaned, realizing there would be a seating chart.

  “El a Akers?” El a spoke of how cheering was her life and every student should have school spirit. And so it continued. He was getting increasingly close to my name and stil hadn’t cal ed Gia’s either. “Gianna Moretti?” Gia looked up at me with a shrug. She went to the front and smiled nervously at everyone.

  “Hi, I’m Gia. I’m new here.” She turned anxiously to Mr. Franklin, and he nodded for her to go on. “I’m from Fishers, Indiana. Wel , original y I’m from here, but my mom, brother, and I have lived in Atlanta, New Orleans, Texarkana…” Looking, down under her breath, she said, “For two months.” She looked back up determined. “Louisvil e, Evansvil e, and final y Fishers, just outside of Indianapolis. I just moved back Saturday, and I’m excited for the coming year.” She paused and glanced out the window. She couldn’t meet our eyes as she began to speak fast, nervously. “It’s funny how one moment can change and define your life—send you down a path that you didn’t even see—like you were in the woods and suddenly you see a path, but it’s over grown and you’re scared and nervous—because there could be bears, scary snakes, or mountain lions, but you have no choice, because the path you are on is now a circle.” She took a deep breath as if she’d been holding it in. “You have no choice but to take that path, the scary one.” She looked at me. “Because it might lead you someplace safe; if you can make it to that safe place, the world can be a safe place. But it’s scary to take that first step because in one moment your life can change.” She looked at the clock nervously, counting the seconds I was sure.