Secondhand Embarrassment

twenty two: black t-shirts

lennon || olivia || billy

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even with headphones in both ears, lennon hears the ocean waves rushing to the shoreline. she runs her fingers along the spine of the novel in her lap, letting thoughts run astray in her mind. footprints of shirtless boys with blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes scatter the beach. 

"why do I keep running into you?" a voice grabs her attention.

lennon squints, glancing up at the sun and a familiar boyish smile riddled with charm. she shakes her head in disbelief."i'm really starting to think you're stalking me, billy."

"call it coincidence."

right as billy is about to sit down in the lounger next to her, lennon says, "that seat is actually taken today."

"by who?"

"olivia,"  lennon answers."she should be right back. she forgot her sunscreen at the house."

billy shrugs, unfazed. he sets his stuff down on the chair anyway, lifting a pair of sleek sunglasses onto his head. lennon nibbles on the inside of her cheek as she studies billy's features from his tan skin to the defined muscles that cling to his shirt.

"say it," billy says, rolling his eyes. "what do you want to tell me, lennon?"

"nothing." her pitch jumps octaves.

"i'm a man. i can take it."

she hesitates, but eventually gives in."i mean it's just you're wearing a black shirt when it's a hundred degrees. that basically says 'why don't you come here and rip it off?' you know what, it's basically a fuck me t-shirt."

"i didn't know that shirts could talk."

"i didn't know that tools could either."

"i'm most definitely not a tool," he responds defensively, placing a hand on his chest.

"you keep telling yourself that, golden boy."

billy and lennon both shift their gazes as a group of sorority girls walk by clutching matching totes. a couple of girls glance at billy with intrigue, but one in particular shouts out, "i had a great time last night."

"that was obviously not directed to me." lennon turns to billy with a glimmer of a smile on her face. "so tell me, billy, what's her name?"

"bianca." he pauses, uncertainty contorting his facial features. "wait, no it's becky. because that's short for rebecca, you know?"

"how about i go ask her."

billy pulls lennon back down into her seat by grabbing her arm. "don't do that."

"why, are you scared?"

"i don't get scared," he scoffs, brushing the subject off. "are you trying to tell me you would prefer that i take the shirt off?"

he reaches for the back of his t-shirt, starting to lift it above his head. before lennon can verbally object, olivia comes back with a bottle of sunscreen in hand and says, "woah, lennon, what the hell is going on here?"

billy pokes his head back up through his t-shirt and turns around to address olivia. he freezes completely when their eyes lock. 

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