"Look at him," Bam scowls, his eyes narrowing at the scene in front of us, "look at him, he looks so smug, too."
I look up from my book, where I'm sitting cross-legged atop of a blue and white striped beach towel at, where else? The beach. I have absolutely no idea what Bam's talking about, all I see is a bunch of other people lying across their own beach towels, some swimming and splashing around in the ocean, and a couple of little kids playing.
"What's got you so worked up?" I want to know, adjusting my sun glasses and flipping a page.
"That boy," he says, turning his eyes to mine, incredulity and jealousy written all over his face, "you give him one compliment, and he can't stop staring at you."
"What?" I take off my sun glasses and set them on my head, scanning the area when I realise what he's talking about, "You mean that little kid patting down his sand castle, the little six year old kid? You're jealous of him?"
The little kid, noticing he has my attention, takes his blue spade off of the sand castle and beams, holding it up high and waving at me. Hello, hello over there, Braiden. Isnt it such a nice wonderful sunny day you could be spending with someone else other than your whiney boyfriend?
Oh wait. I like that whiney boyfriend; I just happen to think he's also certifiably insane.
"More like ten year old, maybe even eleven; I don't care, I just don't like the way he's looking at you," Bam hisses, taking his hand off of his knee and wrapping his arm around my shoulder, bringing me closer to him possessively, "why'd you give him a compliment anyway? You never compliment me on anything."
"I said his sand castle looked neat," I smack him over the head, rolling my eyes, "grow up, will you?"
"What, so you can look even shorter in comparison?" He laughs, although it's mock laughter. I can tell he doesn't think I'm being very funny, and that he's not in a mood to joke – and that even though he is joking, he really is annoyed about some little boy getting a compliment before him. He drops his arm from my shoulder and crosses it over his chest, raising an eyebrow up at me. "Seriously, sometimes I wonder."
"About what?" I want to know, looking back down at my book now he seems have gotten over the kid with the spade. I'm getting to a really good part, too, there's all this conflict about this guy the main character likes actually liking her back –
And in the scene, she's finally caught him doing something that might indicate it.
They might even kiss.
"Why do you like me?" He demands, and I drop the book in shock; I watch it fall to the beach towel between my legs, closing and effectively making me lose my page. Looking up, I look at Bam, raising my eyebrows; I don't know why he's asking me this.
"Beats the shit out of me," I kid, elbowing him in the ribs.
He just looks back at me without saying anything, expressionless. I was planning on going back to my book, but the look stops me. I shift my gaze, averting his and not knowing what to say, what's going on in his head. I mean, I was kidding, he knows that right? He's probably just trying to trick me, freak me out.
I'm so not falling for it.
About to pick up my book, smirking inwardly, I stop when he moves his beach towel further away from mine and plugs his ears with iPod earphones.
"What the hell, Bam?" I furrow my eyebrows at him, but he doesn't hear me; he turns his speakers' right up loud so I can hear the lyrics. He glares at me pointedly when he does this, finger swivelling the volume up, other hand held up in a what, can't hear you? motion.
Oh my God, what a brat. Pressing my lips together I get on my knees and crawl across the sand to him, dragging my beach towel and book with me. He can't move away from me. I won't let him. Only, as soon as I start to get close to him he looks at me from the corner of his eye and starts dragging his beach towel further along for every step I get closer to him.
Oh my God, what is he doing? He's running away from me now?
"What is your problem?" I demand, loudly, trying to get him to hear me over the sound of his iPod. "Bam, stop it. I was joking, okay? You know I love you."
By this time people on the beach are looking at us, and I suppose it sort of is a scene, me crawling across the beach and him speed crawling away. Only some of them are totally getting the wrong idea, some old couple who are sitting under a blue and yellow spotted umbrella start making cooing noises. Looking at each other, at us, and then laughing.
Like it's something funny. Like Bam is being amusing.
Tired of crawling, I stand to my feet, tucking the book under my shoulder and shaking the sand off of my legs. Bam, thank goodness, doesn't look around and so I'm able to catch him up easy.
"Hey," he cries as I sit on him, making him collapse into the sand face-first, "get off of me; I hate you, go away."
"You don't hate me," I pat him on the back as he splutters out sand, feeling kind of bad for sitting on him but knowing he would have tried to run away otherwise, "now what's wrong?"
Bam rolls over and I fall on my butt on the sand beside him, steadying myself with my hands as I get over the falling feeling you get when you're pushed over. Snorting, I go to smack him as punishment and he grabs my hand, eyes flashing into mine with surprising hurt and anger.
"What's wrong?" he splutters incredulously, squeezing my hand, "What do you think is wrong, Braiden? You treat me like a freaking joke. You compliment ten year olds and their sand castles, ten year olds you don't even know – before you compliment me. It's like you don't like me at all."
"But I just said, I just said before –" I protest, blinking, when he talks right over me.
"Of course you love me, Braiden," He cries out in frustration, letting me go and wrapping his arms around his legs, scowling into nothingness, "but you don't like me. You never compliment me on anything, it's like you just find everything about me annoying."
"I'm just kidding," I bring my hands up, wide-eyed, thinking back to all of the mean things I've said over time and wondering what they probably made him feel like.
"It's not funny," he says quietly.
"Of course I like you," I say, reaching out for him again but he shuffles away.
"What do you like then?" He gives me a look, gesturing to himself and then looking me in the eye, his voice shaking with frustration. "And don't just say everything, or that you don't know, because you've got to think of some things that are good about me rather than in general. We've been going out for half a year now, Braidy."
"I know that," I say, rolling my eyes, "but you're kind of putting me on the spot, here, Bam. I mean what would you say if I asked you what you liked about me?"
"I could come up with so many reasons," he bites down on his lip, shaking his head at me as he looks at me all sad-like, "I do come up with so many reasons. I mean, I tell you why I like you all the time."
He drops his hands from his knees and crawls over to my towel, looking at me and bringing his fingertips to my hair, stroking through it before cupping my cheek; when he talks his voice is quiet, low, his green eyes intent on mine though half-lidded. "I like it that you're sarcastic, semi-awkward, funny, cute and kind of secretly nice to me. I like your pretty hair; I like the way you smell, the way you make me feel."
He drops his fingers, shaking his head again, closing his eyes and scrunching up his nose, "I don't like that you don't feel the same way about me as I do you, or that you at least don't appear to. It makes me feel replaceable, like you like me, you love me, and everything…but I'm not…I'm not…not who you are for me, anyway."
"Who am I for you?" I want to know, my cheeks growing pink and my heart skipping a beat. I know who he is for me I just act like a brat about it, go figure he's more emotionally open than me – never, ever would have guessed it when I met him. I bring both of my hands to his cheeks and shake his head a little bit; wanting him to open his eyes and look at me. "Bam, who am I for you?"
As this deeply emotional scene is playing out on the beach, I can see in the corner of my eyes the rest of the population is staring at us, eyebrows up. The kid who I complimented by the sand castle is hitting it with vigour, not looking very happy. One of the turrets falls down and collapses onto his knee, just as Bam lets out a sigh.
"Braidy," he opens his eyes and I lean closer to him, rubbing his cheeks as he swallows nervously; his mouth twists into a bittersweet smile and his eyes twinkle at me, gentle, "Braidy you're the Lily to my Marshall, the Jasmine to my Aladdin. Braidy; you're my one."
I'm his one? I'm his one? He means as in, The One?
"And I know people go out these days and they break up, they don't stay together," he shakes his head beneath my hands, "and you're in high school and high school sweet hearts usually burn out, you know? Only I don't want us to, Braidy, and so when you act all uber bitch on me it really freaks me out."
"Bam," I rap him on the cheek, feeling my lips crinkle upwards, my heart skipping yet another beat, "you know what I love about you?"
He tilts his head and blinks at me curiously, wanting to know. I look him over, a smile spreading across my lips so hard they might crack, a giddy feeling setting in my stomach as I drop my hands from his cheeks and hug him around the neck; pulling him close and kissing him on the lips sweetly. I bump my nose with his, eyes alight, "I like how you just make me feel so special, like when we first met it was always me doing stuff for you, always me trying to be the nice one – but you just like me so much you don't even care whether it goes against your pride or not anymore."
I tap one of his eyelids and snuggle closer to him on the towel, feeling sort of awkward about the fact people are watching but not paying too much heed – it'd totally ruin the mood, and I like this mood. I stare into his green eyes, flushing, feeling tingles in my chest, "And when you look at me it's like we're alone, like all these people aren't staring at us like I know they are. I don't even care. And complimenting you on the way you look? Bam…seriously, you're a God. It makes me feel so insecure. I get jealous too."
"You get jealous too?" He wants to know, eyebrows going up in amusement as his eyes light up; obviously feels better now. "Haha, who about, who? I want to test this out. I want to see this. Are they on this beach right now, do I even know them, know them?"
"You're totally ruining this moment we're having right now," I raise an eyebrow as he bounds to his feet, causing my hands to fall back onto my lap. His eyes dart around as he surveys the beach, looking for someone to flirt with before spotting a familiar looking couple I didn't see until now; Cecelia and Noah. "No, Bam, don't even think about it."
He thinks about it.
They're not a couple, couple, they're just hanging out. But after hanging out with Cecelia that one time I kind of liked her…and then we stared to hang out…and because I kind of like hanging out with Noah, too, they just sort of become friends amongst all that hanging out. It wasn't like I was planning for anything to happen between them…
But though they're not a couple, couple, I can tell they're growing quite fond of each other.
Only Bam is oblivious to the situation at hand and is about to embark on a flirt mission before Noah looks up and stops him in his tracks, giving him a huge glare. He says something that makes Bam blush and it's kind of like watching a balloon deflate because a couple of seconds later he's back at my feet.
"He said he didn't want me stealing his girl just like I did with you," Bam says, clearing his throat and shaking himself, trying not to seem embarrassed anymore. "I was a real jerk when that happened, wasn't I? I never did really apologise. I encouraged you to cheat on him. God, if anyone ever acts the way I did to you in Noah's relationship in our relationship: I'll kill him."
I roll my eyes good naturally, "Don't sweat it, I liked you way before Noah."
"And so I'm a God, eh?" he kids, starting to laugh like a child, bringing his hands to his mouth with glee. I stare up at him and snort, not being able to glare properly because the suns shining down above his head and making it hard.
"Don't get cocky," I chid, scowling, "you see why I don't compliment you?"
"I'm kidding, Braidy," he sticks out his tongue before randomly giving me a hard slap on the shoulder and turning on his heel, "you're it."
"It," I snort, getting up and beginning to chase him along the beach; he's running towards the showers and I smirk, knowing what he's getting at.
I get up the hill and he grabs me around the waist as I pound my fists against his chest, laughing, "Let me go, Let me go."
He brings his lips to mine and brings me back against the warm cement wall, his body pressing against mine and his hands stroking my stomach. I grab him by the head and pull him even closer, opening my mouth and tasting the lemonade he'd bought before walking me down here.
"You sure you want me to let go?" he brings his lips away from mine to whisper softly in my ear and I shake my head, squeezing around his neck so hard I wonder how he doesn't choke.
"No," I whisper back, nuzzling his cheek and smiling genuinely, my heart thrumming fast in my chest as it always is whenever he's near.
He doesn't let go.
"I never will."
I'm not sure if this is written properly or whether it sounds weird to read or whatever – I am severely tired, but I promised my friend I would update :p and I will update some more soon. I remember my deal. I remember promising to update once a week and so I will most likely update three times this week to make up for the fact that last week…
BUT I AM STRESSING OVER DRAMA SOLO. No idea what to come up with, see? :(