In Waves | ✔️

32 | boys and bonfires

My stomach does a roll when I catch sight of Nate. The roaring flame of the bonfire is dancing around him, casting a warm blaze over his skin. He's standing just behind it in loose board shorts and a tank top. My eyes drop to the hand touching his arm, following the connection to Alex. Talking and smiling and glowing together, sparks from the fire floating between them.

The rolling in my stomach swings into a churn.

I direct my voice to Blake, but I can't take my gaze off of them. "Hey, can I ask you something? About Nate?"

"About his scar, right?" He grunts. "Thought he would have told you by now since you're surfing with him, but sure—"

"No, not that." I turn to him, adding on, "Although, the way you helped save him is seriously impressive."

A little smile settles on him for a moment, but then he shrugs it off. "Was a no-brainer. He would've done the same for me. So what's your question?"

"Well... my brother said Nate and Alex had a messy breakup. Is that true?"

"Oh yeah. Messy, messy." Blake nods heavily, realigning his pizza slices. "Fuggin' brutal."

"Really?" I flit back to them. "Doesn't look like it."

He follows my eyeline, giving a sigh as he takes in their closeness. "Messy... and tangled, y'know? Tangled up together, all knotty and shit. I dunno if he'll ever fully untangle himself."

There's an unmistakable dash of resentment in his voice. Before I can press any further, Matt walks up and I drop the subject, relieved that Blake's focus has relocated to the pizza.

"Everything okay?" I ask him.

"Yeah, Jay's just..." He huffs out a breath, stuffing his phone away. "Being Jay."

I like seeing him get annoyed with Carter. Out of all their friends, Matt seems to be the only one who calls him out and sets him straight, maybe because they've known each other the longest and he doesn't let things slide as easily as others. Harris sometimes calls him out too, but Matt's the one Carter backs down from without question. Like he knows picking a fight is going to end badly if he pushes it.

"Hey, dude," Blake chirps up, a new slice of pizza in his hand. He's going to finish all three boxes at this rate.

Matt's irritation brushes from his face, lifting his attention. "Hi, uh... Blaine, right?"

"Blake. But my friends call me Blaze. Or Blazer."

"No we don't." Nate cuts in, slapping his hand on Blake's shoulder. "He's been trying to get that to stick for years."

"Yeah and it would if you'd quit telling people that," Blake mutters, jerking his shoulder away.

"I'm sure it'll catch on soon, Blaze," I say, and his eyes instantly light up.

"Yes! All it takes is one person and that bandwagon's gonna be rolling!" He grabs a pizza box and rushes down the beach. "Ollie it's happening! You gotta start calling me Blaze now!"

"He uh, doesn't get a lot of wins," Nate says.

"Sounds like you're not a very good friend, then," I chime.

He lets out a curt laugh. "All right, I can't blame you since you don't really know Blazer over there, but he's the type of person you don't want to have a lot of wins. The last time he got one, he made us eat at this sketchy hot dog truck that gave us food poisoning and we missed a surf tournament."

"Oh." I wind my fingers together. "I'll keep that noted for future reference."

"Yeah you better." He smiles, holding my gaze for a drawn out moment before he looks at Matt. I think he forgot he was standing next to me.

I think I forgot too.

"So... glad you guys decided to come!" He gives a clap. "Matt, you lead our school to victory tonight or what?"

"You know it." He nods.

"Sure do. I'd expect nothing less," he says, walking over to a cooler box. He reaches in and pulls out a beer, handing it to Matt. "A cold one for the reigning champ. No doubt it's gonna be a good season, huh?"

Matt accepts the beer, looking pleasantly taken aback. "Hope so. You ever come to any games?"

Nate crosses his arms. "Now and then, yeah. Wouldn't miss homecoming. But I guess I was more into it when I actually played."

Both Matt and I pause, asking in unison, "You played?"

"Yep. At my old school."

It's hard to picture Nate in a football uniform, or picture him participating in any school team at all.

"What position?" Matt asks, taking a sip of beer.

Nate rubs his jaw. He almost looks apologetic. "Quarterback."

I'm just as thrown as Matt. Football. His position. I thought it would be lucky if they found any common ground to relate on. I think he might be screwing with us, but there's no glint in his eye or twitch of his mouth. He's fully serious, and it begs the question - what kind of person was Nate Miller before he moved to Oceanview? A jock? No way he was a jock.

"Quarterback. No kidding," Matt remarks. "Why didn't you try out for the team here? Don't tell me you backed out when you saw the competition."

Nate cracks a smile. "Nah, I lost interest before I moved here, just focused more on surfing. But it makes you think, huh? Could've been me leading our school to victory tonight."

Matt gives an airy laugh, but there's a heaviness underneath it. Even that hypothetical alternate reality doesn't sit well with him. Maybe them having something in common isn't a good thing. I wish I was imagining the brewing tension between them. It's so thin it's barely there. But it's there, and it's palpable.

"Nate!" Ollie shouts from down the beach. "Bring the rest of the pizza, Blake's hogging this one!"

They're sitting on a big blanket in the distance. Ollie's holding the guitar I must have heard when we got here, Clara's lying next to him on her stomach, and next to her is Alex. She's wrestling the pizza box away from Blake in a fit of laughter.

Nate inclines his head toward the group. "Care to join us?"

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a/n: ready for a bonfire night? remember to vote :)