The Trade Off | The Lost Boys

Chapter 9

"Oh, chill out girl." Paul grinned holding out his hand to help her stand back up. She was hesitant, but he didn't set his hand down. His grip was firm and he pulled her back up with ease. He dusted the pretend dirt off her shoulders with a theatrical pat. "Good as new."

"No teacups." Ollie warned, and he rolled his eyes but quickly recovered with a hum of agreement. He started off again in the opposite direction and against the flow of traffic. They walked past the ride, Ollie making a clear attempt to glare daggers at the spinning cups. She didn't understand how anyone liked it. It was more of a torture chamber than a ride, and it looked like they were weaving their way back over to the others instead of getting into another line.

She could have easily spotted the guys a mile away. Dwayne had not moved from his spot. His arms were crossed over his shoulders leisurely, still leaning against the fence. It was as if everyone around kept a five foot radius from him. He was watching as punks and families passed by, his eyes mapping out the boardwalk. Paul bounced over to him with a laugh, clapping him on the shoulder.

With a wild grin Paul turned, leaning on the fence next to him. They were so different that it made Ollie wonder how they got along together. Paul was bouncy and chaotic, and he didn't simmer or hide what he was thinking. And then there was Dwayne. He was reserved and stoic, almost inexplicable in his behavior. He was much more self contained than the others.

Even the way that they looked was mismatched. The bright acid wash jeans and white v neck accentuated Paul's carefree and light attitude, but Dwayne's shrouded appearance was a stark contrast. It seemed all planned out. He wore dark pants and black shirt covered by a weather beaten leather jacket. The only color that stood out were the red stripes on his dark Adidas sneakers. With a blink her gaze went up to his face. He was watching Paul with a smirk, his mousy eyes creasing at the corners. It was only a moment before he turned his sights on Ollie. He didn't say anything, but then again she didn't expect him to.

"What happened to you?" Ollie heard a chuckle off to her side, and she watched as Marko strolled up.

A few steps away he must have been chatting up a girl or two because they had been watching the group. The girls scoffed lightly and turned away as soon as he left their company. Marko was unfazed, and a feigned look of concern washed over his face as he walked back over to his friends.

"You're looking a little green." He noticed, sending a chastising look in Paul's direction. Olive knew that he must have known what Paul had dragged her into.

"What do you mean? She looks fine to me." Paul shrugged, interrupting him quickly. He wasn't going to take the blame for her looking worse for wear.

Paul stepped forward towards Ollie, and it looked like he was examining for damage. He danced around her quickly, squinting his eyes and looking for any sign of distress, but she was all in one piece. He would have been a terrible doctor.

Ollie gave the others a look of strangled confusion. They had to put up with Paul on a daily basis.  Paul didn't look any worse for wear but she was convinced that she looked like a mess. She was sweating from the heat and the alcohol and the rides, and she did feel flushed. One of her hands brushed up against her hair and it was an immediate mistake. It was a bird's nest. Nothing shy of a shower and a good conditioning job could save her now.

Regardless of her own self evaluation Paul finished his assessment with a curt nod of approval he looked back to his friend. "She is in tip top shape. Scouts honor."

She let out a shaky laugh at his joke against her better judgement. He was unbelievable.

"Or maybe she's drunk?" Paul laughed, slapping his pant leg. "No no, definitely not drunk." He changed his mind quickly as she looked at him with an eyebrow raised. She was mean mugging him.  Marko shook his head in disagreement.