THE BEACH AT LAST THANK THE LORD {open}

[CLEO EVERETT]

Cleo had beaten herself up the entire way to Coney Island, something that probably wasn’t entirely safe as she had been driving. Still, she couldn’t help but to scold herself and occasionally snap her hair band against her wrist and it took all of her willpower to not bang her head against the steering wheel. Oh, but she’d been so angry! All this time, she’d been so close to a beach! And all this time she’d never known – or… okay, she’d known of Coney Island. But she’d never really put much thought into it. Especially when she’d first been dragged to New York. She’d been too furious about the move to think about much else.

Now, after way too many years of this horrible city, she’d finally actually noticed Coney Island. Sure, there was the amusement park which she was sure could be fun if she had the time to go. The aquarium would without a doubt interest her but she wasn’t in any hurry to visit. It was when she discovered that Coney Island had a BEACH that she went insane. In minutes, she was packing a bag and screeching at her mother over the phone about this news. While her mother and grandpa couldn’t join her this time around, Cleo had made them swear on their lives that they’d go with her eventually.

Early the next morning, she’d been up and ready to go. It only took her two hours to get ready and to double check everything and then she was on the road. Cleo had prayed that mapquest had given her the right directions because her sense of direction was just downright awful. For being a twenty-one year old, she should’ve had her left and rights figured out by now. But it somehow just got that much more confusing while driving. She’d stopped for some food on the way – how could she say no to Panda Express? – and then it was smooth sailing from there. Oh! Sailing! God, how she missed the ocean.

And, finally – FINALLY – she was there. The beach stretched out in front of her, going so very far. Just warm golden sand and oh! The beautiful wonderful gorgeous perfect ocean as far as the eye could see. Her heart was singing and her stomach was full of butterflies and her feet just could not move fast enough. After having to go back twice for something she’d forgotten, Cleo was walking barefoot on the sand, looking for the perfect spot. It was quite busy, not that she wasn’t surprised, and most of the ideal choices were taken.

However, she found one at last and settled down without unpacking. Oh, how could she have never known of this wonderful place? Coming up with a plan, Cleo decided she’d lay in the sand for a few minutes before unpacking and setting her spot up. Then, she’d spend a good hour in the ocean – oh, her wonderful ocean! – before laying out to tan for awhile. This day would be absolutely positively completely utterly magnificent.

[BYRON MOINA]

Okay, so maybe he shouldn't be doing this. The last time he had gone out on the waves was that time, and it didn't exactly end well. Plus, there weren't huge opportunites in New York to really go surfing successfully, which was one of the reasons he wasn't a huge fan of the city or state or really the whole region. Not to mention his leg, which could act up at any time and lead to a fall and maybe a bump on the head. Yeah, that wouldn't be good at all.

But Byron had been watching the news when they were reporting huge waves in Long Island, and they were causing smaller ones at Coney Island. He had kind of wanted to visit the beach at Coney Island, but sitting on the sand and not being able to surf nearly made him cry. Now he had an excuse, even if it was risky.

He had considered the risks for about three seconds before digging the surfboard out of his closet (he had brought it for sentimental reasons, never intending to actually use it again) and ran out the door.

Surprisingly, it was pretty warm outside. Perfect. Whoa, man, was that actual optimism coming from Byron Moina? The thought of rain didn't even cross his mind. He was almost positive he wouldn't fall, because the reports said the waves were small, kid stuff to him. He was warm on the beach, not even caring that he didn't have a coat. It was a big deal for him.

Well, there were a few others surfing, which was good. He wouldn't feel out of place as he normally did. No, that odd-one-out state of mind was absent as he nearly ran towards the waves.

But he stopped mid-way. He felt something, like a dull throb that could only lead to one thing. Maybe he had been a bit too excited and ran too fast. Sighing, his happiness melted as he realized he would have to wait until it faded away to go in the water, and that required staying off it. So he plopped down where he was, landing a little too close to a redhead for people who cared about personal space. But he hardly noticed, because he was too busy rubbing his leg and staring longingly out towards the water.

OUTFIT

[CLEO EVERETT]

Cleo could be observant if she really tried but it took focus. Usually, she wasn’t focused enough or she just didn’t care. This was the beach, though! It was her home and it was as if everybody here was a friend or a distant relative – even an enemy! She honestly didn’t mind who they were or what they were doing here. All that mattered was that she instantly felt a connection with them; she instantly liked them. Liking people made them that much easier to observe. So, of course she noticed when somebody ran from the waves shrieking or dashed by her trying to catch a Frisbee or wiped out on a wave. She noticed everything.

After a few more minutes of laying and observing, Cleo began to set up her things. A towel and an umbrella and sunscreen and her favorite sunglasses. Usually, she could go out into the ocean without wearing the shades. But it just seemed extra bright today and she didn’t want to be blinded out there. Cleo was nearly ready to be reunited with her one true love when somebody suddenly collapsed beside her (well, not so much her as her spot). Anybody else would have been bothered by how close the man was, but Cleo didn’t mind. In fact, she was more interested in him than she had been in anybody else. For one, he had a surfboard and second there were some nasty scars on his arm and leg and three he looked rather upset.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She asked, not at all meaning to sound rude but instead quite curious. “The waves are just waiting for you.” Cleo pointed towards the ocean – oh, her wonderful ocean! – and almost scowled at him. “They aren’t going to surf themselves.” If she’d been paying any attention, Cleo would’ve recognized the scars as a shark attack. However, she was much too distracted by interrogating this man as to why he was wasting his time sitting about in the sand (like she was one to talk). “I’m Cleo,” she said matter-of-factly, “and I think we shall be beach buddies today. Since you are practically sitting at my spot, anyway.” Cleo glanced to her towel to see that some flyaway sand had indeed landed on it.

[BYRON MOINA]

Byron sat there for a few more moments before adjusting his leg so that maybe, just maybe, it would quit hurting faster. Not that he had any faith that it would, because nothing ever really went well like that for him. At all. Ever. Which is also why he wasn't a bit surprised when he realized that he had landed a bit to close to someone else and had likely gotten sand all over everything. He sighed, about to start an apology, when she spoke. Well, she could berate him a bit first. Besides, he hadn't said anything yet, so she wasn't purposely interrupting him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She asked, not at all meaning to sound rude but instead quite curious. “The waves are just waiting for you.”

Well, that was an odd turn of events. Instead of yelling at him, she was... encouraging him. Questioning why he wasn't doing what he wanted. And she was right, they weren't going to surf themselves. But the thing was, he couldn't surf them. Oh, how could he ever think that would work, him being able to surf. There was a reason Byron shied away from optimism; it just led to even more disappointment than pessimism did. If you expected the worse to happen, the worse was less worse and the best seemed even better. It was a logic Byron couldn't deny.

“I’m Cleo,” she said matter-of-factly, “and I think we shall be beach buddies today. Since you are practically sitting at my spot, anyway.”

That was also unexpected. There was a huge contrast between getting yelled at/shooed away and getting interrogated/becoming a beach buddy. Well, he could take good things where they came. "Byron. Yeah... sorry for invading your spot. Accident." He paused, wondering what he forgot. Oh right. "And yeah, this," he motioned towards his scars, "is kind of a long story. But it all leads up to the fact that I can't surf like I want to." In a few ways, if you thought about it. He was stuck in New York, where there wasn't exactly surfable waves most of the time, and his leg was hurting so.

[CLEO EVERETT]

Had this happened anywhere else but the beach, Cleo would’ve felt bad. She would’ve apologized for her uncalled for questioning. However, this was the beach and the ocean was right there and the weather was beautiful and there was absolutely no way she could feel guilty. It was impossible. So, she sat back down, practically collapsing on her towel and she stared at him. Mostly, she was waiting for an explanation. Though, the longer she watched him, the more aware she became of the scars. Sure, she’d noticed them before but now she was actually paying attention.

Cleo had always been warned of sharks but she never let that keep her from her ocean. It sometimes worried her mother to death but it wasn’t like she could keep Cleo away from the beach. This guy had been attacked by a shark. The scars almost made her wince but she was mostly just interested. Cleo wondered if it’d be rude to ask… probably. She’d just have to wait for him to bring it up. She shook her head, dismissing his apology. “No, no. Don’t even worry. The beach is so much more fun when you have somebody to hang out with.” So, really, she should’ve been thanking him.

Perfect! It was as if Byron (what a unique name, she thought) had been reading her mind. Surely, it wouldn’t hurt to ask right…? Then again, he said it was a long story and she didn’t have time for long stories. She had to get to her ocean soon or else she would just die. “Can you make a long story short?” She asked, trying to sound as unoffending as she could. “Because I’d really like to know but at the same time, I can’t resist the ocean much longer.”

Then again… “Or!” She exclaimed, grabbing her sunglasses and leaping back up. “You could just come with me. You don’t need to surf right away.” Cleo held her hand out for him to take if he needed help up. Because at this point she now refused for him to not join her. “We can just splash around while you tell your story.” Yes, that sounded perfect. She stuck the sunglasses on top of her head and waited for his answer (which had better be yes because she wasn’t going to accept a no).