Learning To Love - Jamie Campbell Bower

Beachy Talks

We continue our little game of under or over for a for a while, set after set of waves rolling in, laughing and splashing and jumping and diving. A set ends and the water is momentarily flat, not a wave in sight. I can see all the way to the edge of the horizon. Jamie suddenly submerges, and before I have time to react, two hands grasp my ankles under the water and jerk me, tripping me under.

"Aargh!" I cry, flopping into the water like a breaching whale.

"Gotcha!" Cries Jamie victoriously. He grabsme the minute I come up and cradels me against his chest, bridal style, except he's holding me prisoner. I struggle, and come free, wanting to be able to touch the bottom. I take me chance to spring off the bottom and onto him, pushing him under the water. "Payback!" I declare. Jamie resurfaces, shaking his hair like a dog. "Fair enough," he grins.

"C'mon, the wind is changing, we should head in." I suggest.

"Alright." He sounds a little dissapointed, but the wind change means the waters will get choppy, and that's no fun to play under and over in. "Come to think of it, I'm hungry!" He says. "Race you!" He says suddenly, lurching towards the shore.

Did he really think a London-er was going to beat an Australian? This guy is nuts. We swim back to shore, I use the waves to my advantage, letting them boost me towards the beach. I run to the towles and land on mine with seconds to spare before Jamie does the same on his towel.

"Victory is sweet." I declare as Jamie settles down next to me, somehow managing to cross his long legs on his towel.

"Mmm, and so are the sandwhiches I packed." says Jamie, pulling out two containers. "How's a sweet chilli chicken and luttuce sandwhich? It's my favourite."

"No, way, mine too!" I say, taking a container. Jamie clicks the lid off his takeaway container and takes a bite. "Mmm...'o 'ood" he gets out, mouth full of sandwhich.

"What was that? You were dropped as a child?"

Jamie swallows. "I was not! And that's not what I said, I said the snadwhich was good, not that I'm surprised by my amazing culinary skills..." He points at the unbitten sandwhich in my hand. "Eat!"

"You sound like you've defended being dropped as a child before..." I tease.

"You're such a bully." He whines in a child voice, and pokes my shoulder.

"Hey!"

He pokes me again, harder. I take a bite of my sandwhich.

"No you can't push me, I'm eating now!" I mumble with my mouth full. I swallow. "You wouldn't want me to choke, would you?" I chastise him.

"I don't know about that..." He mumbles, frowning mockingly at me.

"Well, this is a pretty nice chicken sandwhich, I'll admit." I scramble for his forgivness.

"Can a person who was dropped as a child make that good of a sandwhich?"

"Mmm... I suppose not." I smirk, and Jamie breaks out into an award winning grin.

"Just as I thought. Now, how about a drink for that delectable sandwhich."

You're just full of it, aren't you blondie?

"Don't call it a sandwhich, it's a sanga." I sass him.

"What?!"

"A sanga. It's aussie slang for sandwhich."

"I thought slang was when you shortened words?"

"It is?"

"Sand-which, sang-a," He claps for each syllable. "Two syllables each."