Sometimes I wonder how Gene can be so blind.
Maybe he is just being modest. That would be like him, always brushing praise or compliments off. Whenever he does something great, like getting an A in trigonometry or writing a remarkable paper, he only smiles timidly and says nothing. If I was him, I would be bragging to the whole world about how smart I am! I've always admired him for his intelligence.
Still, how can he not notice the stares he's getting? I know he's modest, but he's usually more observant than this right now. As we walk along the boardwalk, I look at my friend.
Gene didn't play out in the ocean with me as much as I wanted him to, but his skin had acquired a soft golden - brown tan from lying out and snoozing under the sun. His usually brown hair is streaked with red that only come out when the light hits it just right. And his eyes. I've never really noticed his eyes until now. His eyes are a warm light brown dotted with flecks of amber. Though I don't pay attention in English class as much as I should, I'm sure Gene would be the perfect picture of some Roman or Norse or Greek or whatever kind of god right now.
He's walking around like some model and he is still not seeing the admiring glances he's getting.
"Everybody's staring at you," I say. "It's because of that movie-star tan you picked up this afternoon…showing off again."
Gene gives me a skeptical look like I'm crazy or something and scoffs.
I chuckle, amused at his remark. He really doesn't see it, does he? I'm not surprised though. He never thinks of himself like that.
After the sun had gone down and we had settled down on the beach to sleep for the night, I started to talk like I usually do before we actually fall asleep. I know I ramble a lot, but Gene never seems to mind. He listens, nodding his head and commenting on subjects I bring up. This night, I don't feel the need to talk as much though. Lying here underneath the stars with Gene has quieted me. After a few minutes of silence, a thought springs up to my mind and I blurt it out before I can stop myself.
""I hope you're having a pretty good time here. I know I kind of dragged you away at the point of a gun, but after all you can't come to the shore with just anybody and you can't come by yourself and at the teen-age period in life the proper person is your best pal."
I stop, waiting for Gene to say something. When he didn't say anything, I continue.
"Which is what you are."
Gene's wordless reaction worried me and I was afraid he didn't consider me his best friend. That thought alone really hurt me and I felt a pang in my chest. Just as I was about to close my eyes, Gene caught my attention and stared at me. We looked into each other's eyes for a few seconds and then he smiles shyly at me. Something in his eyes is odd though and for a second, I wonder if something is wrong. If he isn't telling me something important. But I brush it off. Gene is my best friend. I would tell him anything and I think he trusts me enough to tell me if something is bothering him because that is what best friends do.