"You are unusually perky? Who drugged your coffee and where can I find them?" Bella asked, slinking her way over to me.
I paused in tugging on my tights, not entirely comfortable with the way her eyes roamed over my grey underwear.
"Can't a guy just be excited for another day in front of an adoring crowd?" I quipped back, moving on to button my shirt and Bella snorted.
"'Adoring crowd' passed opening night, now we just have geriatrics and tired housewives who want to see two cute boys kiss," Bella said and took a seat at the vanity. "Seriously, you're rather chipper and as far as I know you have more than three hundred hours left still to serve, and I no more cute little plays to fill them with."
"Always pleasant chatting with you, Bella," I responded, thankful for the knock that sounded on the door from Kyle, alerting me to head backstage.
"Why the limp?" Bella frowned as I slowly passed her. I groaned, forcing myself to straighten up when she immediately stood, eyes narrowed in suspicion behind several layers of winged eyeliner.
"Bike mishap, don't worry I'm on enough painkillers to breeze through tonight's performance," I bluffed, going so far as to pat my right hip and flash her grin that to ensure she knew things were sunny-side up in Beau-Land.
"I knew you were on something!" she gasped, applauding her detection skills as I rolled my eyes and pushed open the door. "Use tongue this time! I had complaints that yesterday was too chaste!"
Blocking out her words I slipped to the side wing, nodding at a worn-out Kyle who had his hands over his ears, blocking out Astrid's thick voice. I frowned at the sound, arching a worried brow Kyle's way.
"She's sick," he said and crossed his arms. "The girls sneezed all over her sleeves to the point where I think we should just burn the dress when tonight's done."
"Shit," I frowned, watching as Astrid smeared her foundation in an attempt to wipe her sweaty brow. "She doesn't look too hot, are you sure she's alright to be out there?"
Kyle fixed me a hard look and I backed away, hands raised just as Astrid dropped to the ground like mud. The thud echoed across the stage, met by a collective gasp by the audience who cautiously applauded at Astrid's dramatics.
"That was a little early, wasn't it?" I asked and Kyle glanced at his phone and then at the stage where Candice was not so subtly kicking Astrid's unmoving side.
"By about three minutes. Whatever, we'll just roll with it," Kyle said, cutting the stage lights. Immediately the stagehands swept past, two of them lifting Astrid into the coffin.
"Where is Spencer?" Kyle asked, going as far as to shove my shoulder to the side in order to check behind me.
"How would I know? I'm not his keeper," I said, defensive and with sweaty palms I discreetly wiped on my tights when Kyle let me go, ignoring the sting in my right hand.
"Weird," Kyle said, gesturing to me in my entirety. Throwing one last analyzing look he walked off to the side doors, head held high as he all but kicked them open. Barking something outside he stepped back in, clipboard jutting into my side as he shoved me onstage just as a ruffled Spencer jogged in from outside.
"Good luck," he whispered, speeding past me and to his mark. There was something in the way he said it that left goosebumps across my arms the entire time we were on stage that night. Neither of us flumbled our lines, but I caught Spencer eyeing my arm wearily as I clasped onto a limp Astrid's hand, fingers practically dripping in sweat from the heatwaves she was giving off. From her glass coffin she forced a smile that was green around the edges enough that I almost called for a medic until Spencer grasped my shoulders and the world focused to a narrow funnel filled with nothing but Spencer Fox.
His chapstick red mouth.
The smokiness of his eyes under the dusky spotlights.
The way his hands felt in my hair.
Pulling the strands.
Gliding over the heated skin of my neck as his lips devoured mine hard enough I had stretched out the lapels of his shirt by the time it was over which made me realize I might have taken Bella's note a little too much to heart.
I couldn't bring myself to look Spencer in the eye after as he drove me home because something had changed between us since last night. Something had changed in Spencer, who kept his hand on the gear stick the entire drive even though his safety-first Toyota was an automatic. Neither of us attempted to make conversation. The guy was deep in thought. About what, I didn't know. All I knew was like how I avoided my phone last night, he was doing the same now. Going so far as to throw the thing onto the back of the car. I watched as it cluttered against the seat before bouncing off into the footwell under my chair.
"You ever been to Diana's?" Spencer said, after a near suffocating ten minutes of silence. It was then I noticed we had made no headway towards my house, rather we were east of town.
"Yeah, Clark basically has his own booth rented out there," I replied, regretting it the moment Clark's name fell from my mouth.
Spencer frowned and I watched as his knuckles tightened around the steering wheel.
"They have the best pie in the state," I tried again and Spencer shrugged, non-committal.
"So I heard."
"Do you want to go there?" I asked when I noted the neon sign a half-mile ahead.
"I have a better idea," he decided, abruptly jerking the car to right.
"Jesus, Spencer!" I scrambled to grip at my roof's handle as the car began to wind around a sharp bend, tarmac bleeding to rough gravel as we hit a steep incline. My palms grew slick and I forced my eyes shut as a flood of memories attempted to override my brain. Taking a breath I made myself relax then glanced over at Spencer. "Should I be concerned by your Grand Theft Auto behavior?"
"Bella told me the day I moved out here that there is a kiosk that sells saltwater taffy flavored gelato made from the lake water," Spencer said, flashing his headlights to high-beam as we hit an forked road heading into the hilled area of Newport. "Said it was tradition for people in town to eat there at least once."
"I can tell you, flat out, she was messing with you. Saltwater taffy gelato? That cannot be real," I promised him and he smiled.
"Guess I'm going to have to hope I prove you wrong tonight," he said, plainly and we collapsed back into silence that was only broke when I scolded him for breaking the road code in overtaking the few other drivers heading to the lake.
I'd never spent much time up at Lake Father. Tommo's family owned a lodge in the middle of the woods there, and he went up every other summer, but I preferred to stay home. The Lake was around two hours or so away when there was traffic, but Spencer got us there in forty-five minutes, which I was sure he would be receiving a fine for. Part of me hoped his mother would be the one to hand it to him.
"How's the ankle?" He asked as he parallel parked right on the grass next to the fencing at the edge of the lake. It was not technically a parking spot, but Spencer was carefree as he cut the engine.
I eyed him warily, stepping out the car. "It's fine. A little swollen but no grief. My arm is itchy like hell though."
"Told you it was nothing to worry about," Spencer said, breaking out into a jog over to a small hut-looking thing that sat a few feet towards a set of swings by the main pay-by-the-hour parking lot. Unlike Diana's, no neon lights greeted us, just a scribbled sign in both English and Italian boasting, as Spencer promised, saltwater taffy gelato. 24/7.
"This is insane," I gaped at the kiosk as Spencer smugly leaned against the counter. "Also it's two degrees out. You are insane."
There was a thump on the wooden counter moments later followed by an old woman in a bulky Kathmandu with wide reading glasses perched on top of her head appearing, glaring down at us.
"I do not get paid to hear you boys talk," she said, grabbing an ice cream scoop. "No loitering either."
"Sorry, ma'am," Spencer said, laying the charm on thick with a wide tooth smile. When the woman remained unmoved he quickly pulled out his wallet. "We aren't loitering. Honest customers here."
I smacked my palm to my forehead, cringing away from Spencer as the woman arched a brow, eyes scanning his wallet as if to check the single cash note he was carrying in it wasn't counterfeit. "We should just go."
"Nope. Two scoops, please," Spencer ordered, going so far as to raise two fingers like an idiot. He smiled at the woman, who continued to look unimpressed by his antics but reached under the counter and pulled loose a stack of paper cups.
"One cup or two?"
Spencer glanced at me then shrugged. "Fuck it, one cup."
"Good for you," the woman said, bored as she waved a hand behind her. A slightly older man stepped up, huddled in a large home-knitted scarf and hat, punching something into the cash register at the woman's prompting.
I grabbed the cup as Spencer paid, wincing a little at the instant chill that seared itself into my fingertips. Slipping his wallet into his pocket, Spencer breezed past, motioning me back towards the pier.
"I figured we could sit here, dip our feet in the water. It'll be cold, so good for your swelling also," Spencer called, still walking much faster than I could keep up with.
"Give me a minute Spencer, Jesus," I said, finally reaching him. Handing over the gelato I carefully lowered myself into a seating position. Dumping the cup between us I was quick to start blowing hot air on my fingers as Spencer wrestled off his shoes and socks, sinking into the water with a pleased moan.
"That was incredibly indecent," I shook my head as he happily sighed, reclining back on his forearms. When his stomach muscles tightened against the cold I didn't think twice, wrestling out of my jacket and shoving it across his shoulders.
"I have a sweatshirt and a hoodie on, you're only in a shirt," I explained when he gave me a questioning look, the tip of his nose pink under the dim street-lamps lining the pier.
"Thanks, Beau," He smiled, shoving his hands through the armholes, rubbing them together after as he stared down at the gelato. "Salty ice cream time. Are you ready?"
"There's only one spoon," I frowned, glancing at the bowl, remarking that I must've dropped the other on the way over.
"You choose now to be scared of my cooties?" Spencer chuckled, digging out a small spoonful of the gelato. Its tacky consistency made my stomach roil, as did the bubblegum pink tinge that was made even more neon under the harsh lights.
"You first," I said, redirecting his hand when it aeroplaned my way.
"Sour puss," he huffed, licking the spoon clean. I watched his face but Spencer kept it pretty straight as he went in for a second scoop.
"How bad was it? There is no way it's not awful. Do you have any idea how many times Tommo told me he peed in this lake as a kid?"
"I'm sure they purified the water before making this," Spencer bullshitted, shoving the spoon in my face. The smell was strong and I curled my nose, pulling my head back only for Spencer to follow after me.
"Try it."
"You're such a jackass. I can't believe this place actually exists."
"Never doubt the wise words of Bella," Spencer reminded me and I bit my lip.
Use tongue this time!
Very unhelpful, brain.
Opening my mouth I looked at Spencer flatly when he bumped the spoon against my cheek, the touch cold and causing a bright flush to fill my cheeks to fight off the sensation.
"You're not funny," I told him and almost choked on the words when he all but jabbed the spoon in my mouth, clipping my top teeth. Immediately I wrenched back at the taste, causing Spencer's hand to follow with me as he still held the end of the spoon and my teeth had automatically locked onto the top.
"Oh my god! Your face, Beau!" he wheezed, managing to pry the spoon out.
I listed over and spat out the remaining gelato back into the lake. "Fuck you! What the fuck was that? That was awful. That was poisonous!"
"I should've taken a photo, that was priceless," He laughed and wiped his eyes, actually tears beading along his waterline, blurring into the eyeliner he hadn't managed to fully wrestle off his face.
"You are the worst," I said, shuddering as a punch of salt laced its way across my tongue again. "If I wasn't worried you'd catch hypothermia I'd toss you into the lake right now."
"Very cute, Beau," he chuckled, miraculously taking another spoonful of the gelato and swallowing it without dying on the spot.
"Dude, it's awful. How can you eat something so salty?"
"It's not that bad. And I paid nine dollars for this, I'm eating it."
"That is not worth nine cents," I countered, wiping my tongue on my sweatshirt. The taste of bleach was better than the linger aftertaste of saltwater taffy and pee.
"Now you're just being mean," he said, almost halfway through the stuff and showing no sign of slowing down. "The more you eat the less salty it gets, trust me."
I stealthy dodged the hand that came my way, moving to take off my shoes and submerging my feet into the water only to instantly draw them back out. "Okay, you are officially a sadist. How are you keeping your feet in there? It's cold as shit."
"Military school," Spencer supplied, offering no further explanation even as I glared at his profile, waiting.
"Who are you, Spencer Fox?" I asked, awed as he deftly licked the tub clean, dropping it behind him as relaxed back on his forearms again.
"I don't know," He said, rolling his head onto his shoulder to look over at me. A fond smile graced his lips then turned a little softer, more intimate. "Whoever he is, though, do you like him, Beau?"
There was something in his eyes I couldn't quite decipher but I found myself nodding back anyway. "Yeah, I like him."
"He thinks you're pretty great too, Beau Minders. An asshole most of the time, who never seems to think before talking or acting, but he likes you too nonetheless."
"Can we stop talking in the third person?" I asked and Spencer laughed.
"You're such a piece of shit," He said, smile wide enough I didn't feel offended as he three his head back and grinned at the sky. The moon was nothing more than a sliver amongst the stars, appearing almost like an afterthought but with enough light to shine along the stretch of Spencer's neck in a way that made me unable to take my eyes off him. "Of course you would open your mouth and ruin the moment. Come on, let's get you home before your parents think I've kidnapped you. I promised you back a half-hour ago."
"We're never coming here again," I warned him, fighting back the redness in my cheeks as I got to my feet. Hugging my shoes to my chest I waited as Spencer grabbed the paper cup and spoon, tucking the latter into his back pocket as he dumped the tub in the idling trashcan. Making our way back to the car, Spencer waved at the kiosk, earning no response back.
"She'll warm up to us eventually," He shrugged, wrestling loose his keys as I laughed. "I'm serious, we're coming back every night after a show."
"You can take Tommo, I'm sure he eats this crap all the time with how often he's here," I told him firmly as he unlocked the car, bowing inside.
"Nah, it wouldn't be the same. Tommo's too polite to throw up in a lake," Spencer countered, dropping into his seat with a hum.
"He's not too polite to piss in one," I reminded, putting my socks and shoes back on, grateful for the warmth.
"Stop that, I don't need the image of Tommo pissing in my head right now," Spencer said and shuddered. I laughed, buckling my seatbelt as he started the car and pulled back onto the road.
"Alright, I'll paint you a better image," I said, waiting until he glanced over before continuing, "Bella's probably peed in it too–"
"I swear I will drive this car off the edge if you keep talking like that!" Spencer yelled, veering the car just slightly to make his point.
"Okay, okay, okay. I'm sorry! Please don't kill us, Spencer!" I said, pushing down a chuckle as he smirked to himself.
"Is it weird I want to turn back around and buy some more?" He said after we'd re-entered town, the forest drenched roads long behind us and endless suburban up on the horizon. I had my head pressed against the window at this point, hiding a yawn behind the sleeve of my hoodie as Spencer idled a hand uselessly on his gearstick.
"More what?"
"Gelato."
"You truly are disgusting. I don't want to be anywhere near you next time you buy that crap," I warned, rubbing my eyes as Spencer turned down my street.
"I'll take you somewhere nicer then next time," he said, smiling as he pulled to a stop in my driveway right behind Jenny's car.
When I caught Spencer cutting the engine and pulling off his seatbelt I paused, a little embarrassed. "You don't have to walk me to my door, dude."
"Humor me, Beau," He said, tone light as he swung out the car.
Pushing my door open slowly I waited until he shut his own before heading to the porch. The automatic light thankfully wasn't on to alert the entire family of my arrival so I relished the few moments of peace we had alone together.
"So," Spencer said, ducking his head as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "Gelato aside, you had a good time tonight, right?"
I looked up at him, confused. "I mean, yeah. You should know by now I like to hang out with you."
"Doesn't hurt to check in," he shrugged, leaning against the doorjamb as I fumbled for my keys, unnerved by his staring.
"Do you want to come in?"
"It's past midnight Beau. On a school night. Mom would kill me if I'm not home in the next ten minutes." Spencer was smiling, grey eyes amused as he shook his head at me in something akin to amazement.
"No more speeding," I scolded, struggling to regain level ground as he laughed.
"No more sleeping," he grinned, reaching out and ruffling my hair.
"Asshole," I huffed, side-stepping away from him.
"Wait," He called just as my hand wrapped around the door handle. I blinked up as he shrugged his jacket off, pressing it into my chest. "Thanks."
I furrowed my brows in confusion, fingers curling around the warm fabric when Spencer let go of it. "For what?"
"Loaning me your jacket," He said and my lips parted in understand. I squeezed my jaw tight as warmth flooded my cheeks. How could I have forgotten I gave Spencer my jacket at the pier. I glanced down at the navy fabric in my hands, remembering how snuggly it fit to the contours of his body, hugged his arms and rushed to push the door open.
"Right, of course, any time," I mumbled, scratching the back of my neck with my free hand as Spencer reclined his head, just staring.
Eventually a warm smile broke across his face and he moved back onto the porch steps, hand cradling the railing. "I'll catch you later, Beau. Have a good night."
"Night," I said back, a little flustered as Spencer beamed back, slowly making his way to the car. Only when the taillights disappeared did I finally slip inside and shut the door. Lazily throwing the jacket over the coat rack nobody but April bother to use properly, I shrugged off my hoodie, ready to crawl into bed and pass out.
"You're back later than promised," Flemming grunted out through a yawn and I jumped, squinting to make out his appearance by the doorway.
"Jesus, Flemming. Put a bell on or something," I whispered, pressing a hand to my chest as my panic died down.
"So, how was the date?"
"I– I–"
It wasn't a date.
Was it?
"It wasn't a date, Flemming," I settled on, shouldering past him to reach the stairs. Grappling in the dark for the barrister I groaned internally when my cousin's footsteps picked up behind me.
"But if it was?" He asked, catching my good arm lightly when I stiffened. Rolling my head back, I sighed, not bothering to look back at him as he climbed onto the step below me.
"If it was... Then it was a good one," I muttered, pulling from his grip and heading to my room.
Yeah.
It was a really good one.