Some Place Better Than Here

Chapter 15: September

After I found a sizeable mirror next to a display of cheap sunglasses in a junky beachwear store and fixed my eyes, and was loitering around the boardwalk by myself holding SpongeBob, a guy came through the crowd and approached me.

I'd noticed him a moment before, in the midst of the muddled crowd walking all around. He was tall; he stood out. From across the boardwalk, we locked eyes.

"Hi," he said, walking towards me.

"Hi," I said, not looking directly at him.

"Are you waiting for someone?"

I intentionally didn't look at him. With my back to the ocean, slouching against the railing, I kept my gaze steady on the boardwalk activity in front of me. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of eye contact, though I did, however, see out of the corner of my eye as he broadened his shoulders. I allowed myself to glance over for a better look. He was very Italian looking. I did not try to hide my now more than obvious eyeing up and down of him. He smiled at my examination. He had very straight, white teeth.

I looked back over at the crowds silhouetted against the bright lamplights and restaurant fronts.

"And if I am waiting for someone?"

I noticed the sheen of his chrome watch as he wedged his hand into his jean pocket. He had very dark arms.

"Whether you are or not, doesn't really matter, does it?"

He smirked, tilting his head ever so slightly. I reciprocated the look, matching the intensity of his stare, and then looked away, back towards the blinking colors on one of the games. The jingle of a prize being won rang from somewhere behind the babbling crowd. He kept on looking down at me, smiling.

"Either way, you're too beautiful for me not to ask your name." He took a step closer.

I looked up at him. "My name?"

"Your name." He smiled.

"Mary." I smiled back.

"Mike," he said, and pulled his watch hand out of his pocket, extending his open palm. I transferred SpongeBob to my left hand and accepted the shake. My hand felt small in his. He held on for just a second longer than appropriate before pulling back.

"I can't get over how beautiful you are. You can't be from Gilmore?"

"I am."

"Crazy..." he said, his voice drifting. "My buddy's throwing a party." He made a gesture toward the street. "His uncles just purchased a new beach house. We wouldn't mind having a beautiful woman around. I'd love for you to come. If your friends are around, they can come too." This he said with his lower-lip hung, and then softened his brow to expose the vulnerability, the innocence, in his calf eyes. He then cocked his neck back, back towards his buddy somewhere in the crowd.

"We've got Goose, Patron—Palm Bays—if you're into that?"

The jingle of the carnival game rang again. Mike leaned in closer, smiling wider, just as I, over his shoulder, saw Danny.

It was then I grabbed Mike's hand.

"As impressive as your knock-off Rolex really is—" I looked over and smiled at the boy with the wet golden-brown hair swept up off his forehead. "—Here comes my man."

Mike jerked back and turned to look at Danny with a wide-open mouth. Exposing the stupidity in his dumb-looking calf eyes.

"Ooh! My boyfriend's back!" I shouted loud enough so Danny could hear me and then ran up to him, snatching his arm and kissing his cheek. Danny practically set on fire; Dan the Man was confused as hell.