Lost City

"Plus You're a Virgin"

The thud of one set of footsteps echoes on the rocks surrounding us as Jay walks next to me. Years of trying to avoid attention manifested in the habit of moving as silently as possible. Every time I follow the others they continually check over their shoulder to make sure I'm still there.

"You're to d*mn quiet." Jay says and I stifle a giggle.

It's become commonplace for one of them to mention it whenever we are back on land. I'm not even sure they realize they do it. I've made it a game trying to guess how long it takes each of them to say it. Jay usually takes the longest.

"Or maybe you're just to loud." I shoot back my regular response.

"Whatever." He rolls his eyes and goes back to reading over the charts we brought.

I would normally stop him, but we know these paths like we know the ship. The tiny beach house is our home away from home. Well to me it is. The ocean will always be more welcoming.

"Do you think we will get the pots and tablets back soon?" Jay asks without looking up.

"I don't know." I shrugged, "Last time they loaned them to us we were told it was someone else's turn after." I finger the round edge of the coin through the plastic bag. It hasn't left my side since I read the familiar words cast in the back.

About four years ago a shipwreck was discovered just off of Greece. There was a locked chest filled with metal tablets and a few broken pots. Written on them in Ancient Greek and Latin were something similar to receipts for the exchange of goods to a place called Ἀτλαντὶς νῆσος: Island of the Atlas. Plato once referred to the Lost City as such, but after much debate it was decided to be a myth. Until this discovery that is. Now treasure hunters and scholars alike are searching for wealth, either in knowledge or gold.

Walking around the corner we finally come into view of the two story house. Both Jay and I have to cover our eyes to ward off the sharp sunlight reflecting off the wall of windows. Even though I can't see it, I know the pale yellow house is still trimmed in white. A breeze brings the sound of the creaky swing seat on the porch and Rocky will probably be next to it trying to grill something tonight.

Inside the house will be the living and dining rooms turned lab and office. Next to the kitchen will be stairs leading to the four small bedrooms and the shared bathroom. I'm grateful we have our own rooms, but poor Phil has to sleep on the pull out bed when he comes over. I've tried to get him to take my room, but he insists that I'm never there enough to use it so I have to take advantage when I can.

Approaching the house the scent of meat cooking floats over us. Jay lowers his folder and we both look towards the muscled figure standing at the grill. I was right. Rocky thinks a meal isn't complete without 90% of it containing meat. His preference is steak and after three years I've seriously considered becoming vegetarian.

"Hey man." Jay calls out, announcing our presence.

Rocky looks up and gives us one of his supposed panty dropping smiles. It is handsome and I assume it's for me, but I've always thought his personality overshadowed it.

"Jay! Man, welcome back." His deep voice raspy as if he's overused it. He hasn't. Unless he sits in his room repeating his name while he watches himself lift weights in the mirrors he's covered his walls with. I stifle a giggle imagining him counting each lift, "One Rocky, Two Rocky's."

They greet each other with the typical man hug handshake thing. Well I assume it's typical. I'm really only ever around these two.