Beach Friends?

I scramble up the rather steep incline to the adobe roof, slinking one solid hand over another, in a hopeless attempt to haul my body up the slope. A rough, tanned hand reaches out to help me up- Gabriel's. When I reach up my arm to take it, which stretches all my muscles to their maximum capacity, I take a sharp inlet of breath. His hand..It's so warm. For some reason, I want this moment to last forever, my hand in his, but my screaming arm wrenches that fantasy away from me. That hurts, I think, as he finishes the rest of the way for me. I don't know why, but I can't let Gabe outdo me, it's always been in my blood I guess. We Robinflights have never been ones to give up easily, or let someone else do the work for us. So as soon as my feet touch the scratchy, annoying stone, I let my hand plummet to my side, a stone crashing down. I curse my clumsiness, wishing I could have maybe withdrawn it more carefully, more lady like, as my Mother wanted. Before the marriage, she was said to be a strong independent character, but I had never met that version of her. Now, she is a submissive, docile creature that let my Father do whatever he wanted. Only, at certain times, the real her emerged, when I was hopeless. Like at our old house, years ago.

He instucts me to follow him, and although there isn't much room on the roof, and I'm just about to burst with indignation, I do as he says, appeasing him for the time being. Gabriel leads me to a good vantage point, excellent to keep on the lookout for the rough and tough gangs around here, that I certainly do not want to associate myself with. The air around me is gathering the chill that indicates night is going to fall soon, but I set my gaze ahead of me. My thin, worn down sneakers tap an erratic tune to a song without a melody. They're my favorite pair, and the bottoms barely get any traction any more, what with being so abused and overused. I study them momentarily, following the swirling blue-green pattern that adorns the left flank of both shoes. I remember tracing that over and over again, finding comfort in the repetitive motion. I do that again, feeling over the trail left by my fingers over many, many years. Even though I've been growing up lately, I can't seem to make my feet grow a single size; which is killer at school. Hmph.

When I finish playing with my shoes, I sweep the veil of thick black hair that's fallen in front of my face, back to behind a slightly pointed ear. I never got them pierced you know, and now I go around hanging jewels by clips. Nobody really approves of it, but they've tried, and probably will again, to hold me down and stick a needle through my ear. No thank you. I'm proud to say that one time, when Father was trying to pin my by my wrists, than I broke his nose with my head. Blood everywhere. Anyways, I brushed back a few rogue strands that threatened to return to their previous position, and gazed in utter and complete awe at the beautiful sunset.

The sky mixes into a dazzling array of reds and yellows, with tinges of pink adorning the cloudless display. It's so...Perfect. That's the only way to describe it. I glance over at Gabriel quickly, blushing obscenely, for no particular reason. They had just met today, but they'd just snapped together like old friends. Perhaps more.

"T's beautiful up here, Isn't it?"

My head snaps back towards him, suddenly alert. Somehow, even though my tongue twists itself into knots, I manage something along the lines of an intelligent agreement. My dark eyes flash quickly up to his, searching them briefly. What is it that I see in them? A longing for something, almost. A sudden change in his demeanor probably means it's time to leave, so I push off the rough tile with my hands, barely getting enough momentum to propel myself up. I'd need to work on that, but in the mean time, there was the more prominent issue of getting down. I mean, I could just get down the way I came up, right? I gulped, swallowing the fear that threatened to up well and take me over. Better now than later, I thought, and launched myself with great abandonment over the edge.

It's too bad I don't have a religion, or else I would have thanked whatever deity I prayed to, when land on the sidewalk in one piece. As it was, I thank my acute sense of balance, and physical fitness. I watch behind me as Gabe does a graceful running start into a perfect roll. I wish I could do that kind of stuff, but I've never really had the commitment to. Seriously, can you see me doing gymnastics every Saturday? I don't think so. He resumes a brisk pace, striding forward like he owns the world. Guys are such showoffs sometimes. If I didn't know better, I'd have said he did that just to impress me, but of course I do know better, and he wasn't.

I set something a little faster than my normal saunter, not to be outdone by some guy. The gravely ground speeds by beneath my feet, making the familiar pattern of blurred colors that always followed me every where I went. I glance back at Gabriel, who's trailing behind me ever so slightly, without a bead of sweat on his face. But he was blushing, ever so slightly. He was probably just warm, right? It really is humid out here, so it wouldn't be that odd I guess.

We walk, and walk, without changing our swift pace at all. I wonder if he's getting tired, or what's causing him to look at me like that. We go to the crest of the tall hill that leads up to my house- if you can call it that, as most would call it a mansion. But for me, I guess it's just a house. My house. I cringe at it's obvious bragging imposition towering above us. It seems to watch over me, in a creepy, horrible, inanimate way. A shiver runs down my spine as I watch the shadow of my room, a high turret, lengthen until it's touching the tips of my sneakers. For some reason, I'm scared of it. I want to jump back, get away. Something tells me that something just isn't right. I thought it might be that shadow.

He pants up to me, and then becomes uncharacteristically serious. I pretend to ignore it at first, but it's really bugging me. My thoughts get more and more crazy when he grabs my wrists and spins me around. What's wrong with him? Did a serial killer just walk me home? Then, as he pulls me in closer, I smell the sweet aroma of sea water, mixed with bright flowers. The smell of district 4. Gabriel stares at me with his perfect, multicolored eyes, so serious suddenly. Most people I wouldn't worry about, but why the sudden change in attitudes? It would suck if my new-found friend was bipolar or something like that. At least it would explain his crazy mood swing.

Then, he's kissing me. Holy crap he's kissing me! I can feel his rough, warm lips pressed against mine, if only for a second. It's so sweet, and yet so bitter. So this was my first kiss. It was...Nice, I guess. I have no time to feel what it really is before he's pulling away from me, unintertwining his hands from the thick mass of hair they had been wrapped in. I hadn't stopped him, but I hadn't kissed back. I bite my lip nervously, as he stares at me again, with those beautiful eyes. What should I say? What could I say?

Before I can say anything, he takes a step back, as if anticipating the urge I have to slap his stupid, kiss stealing face off. I could, too. Why shouldn't I? I had every reason to kick him seven ways to Sunday, but I just didn't want to. Those last few moments were like a dream- far from the castle top kiss most girls aspired for, but it was if I was wading through a thick murk in my mind, still trying to decipher what had just happened to me. Already, I could feel the heat of a blush working it's way up my cheeks, flushing cherry red. Stupid blood cells.

"We should do something tomorrow."

Is that all he can say? After kissing me? Seriously? What kind of lame line is that? Still, I doubt I can think of much better than that, since I can't really think of a good response. I can't believe I'm trying to sound cool, but it's the only way I think I'd be able to pull off any sort of speech at all. My first attempt comes out more like a strangled cry than a word, response. Yeah, right. The second time, I have more sucess, but I still sound like a complete jerk. I can't exactly act like this is my first kiss, can I? Every thing I'd ever read said I shouldn't. Here goes,

"Yeah, I'm free tomorrow."

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.