Chapter Two
Flick woke to the obnoxious sound of squawking seagulls. Squinting, she opened her eyes and was hit by an intense flood of sunlight. She'd forgotten to draw the drapes last night. She hauled herself out of bed, ungraciously stumbling across the landing to the family bathroom, hoping that a warm shower would wake her up in a more relaxing manner than the relentless screeching of a dozen birds. She turned on the shower, letting the water run whilst she stripped out of the over-sized t-shirt and knickers she'd worn for bed and brushed her teeth.
Once the room was shrouded in a fine mist of steam, she stepped into the tub, drawing the mildew spotted plastic curtain around her, sighing happily when the blissfully warm water drummed rhythmically against her sleep sore skin. As she lathered her hair in peaches and cream scented shampoo and conditioner, her mind started to wander back to the previous night and her encounter with the wild-haired blonde, Paul. She started to wonder what would happen if they were to run into each other again, would he approach her? Would he ask her to hang out? Or had she read too much into his words? Had she imagined the promise in his tone? Flick pushed the barrage of questions to the back of her mind and finished rinsing the sweet, perfumed suds from her hair before soaping her body with refreshing, citrus scented soap.
Shutting off the shower, Flick wrapped herself in a clean, fluffy towel and padded back to her room feeling a little less like an ill-tempered geriatric. She once again squinted when the bright morning sun left her temporarily blind; she could literally feel her retina's burst into flames, she could smell them burning. Well it was either that or she was having a stroke. Blinking away the black spots obscuring her vision, she padded over to the closet, routing through her humble collection of clothes for an outfit; groaning when she remembered she'd promised to spend the day at the beach with her brothers.
Flick opted to wear her black high-waisted bikini bottoms and matching top beneath a maroon Ramones t-shirt dress that fell to her mid-thigh, pairing the outfit with her old, grungy black Chucks. They were drifting further into the height of summer, meaning the days were hot and the nights were humid, and it was imperative that you dressed in clothes that would keep you at least marginally cool unless you wanted to end up with pit-stains that ran down to your ribs and swamp ass.
With her outfit sorted, she quickly blow-dried her hair and gave it a quick backcomb before applying a light layer of foundation, meticulously decorating her eyes with winged eyeliner and gave her lashes a few licks of waterproof mascara. Flick tucked her crumpled pack of Marlboro's and her battered Bic lighter beneath the strap of her bikini top -she loathed carrying bags- and looked herself over in the mirror hanging at the back of the closet door. Flick had inherited her mother's soft facial features and petite frame yet her chocolate coloured curls and sea-green eyes were the spit of her father. Flick kicked the closet door closed and made her way downstairs, her stomach growling when the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, buttery pancakes and maple syrup greeted her on the descent.
Flick wandered into the kitchen to find the table laden with a huge stack of pancakes, a jug of freshly squeezed orange juice, a pot of coffee and a multitude of condiments with each place setting set with cutlery and an empty plate. "Morning sweetheart," Lucy chirped as she bustled over to the table with a second plate full of fluffy pancakes.
"Morning mom, what's the occasion?" she asked, slumping into one of the chairs, her eyes honing in on a jar of Nutella.
"Can a mother not feed her babies a sustainable breakfast?" Lucy cocked her head with a smile, her hands taking root on her hips.
"Yeah but we all know your idea of a sustainable breakfast is porridge," Flick grimaced, piling her plate with pancakes before reaching for the Nutella.
Lucy chuckled. "I fancied a change, is that such a bad thing?"
"When it comes in the form of pancakes then no," Flick grinned, smothering her pancakes in a thick layer of chocolate hazelnut spread.
"Oh sweet, pancakes!" Sam enthused as he strolled into the kitchen, his hair still mussed from sleep.
"Good morning to you too Sam," Lucy shook her head in amusement, pouring herself a mug of coffee.
"Morning," he mumbled, half a pancake already stuffed in his mouth before his ass touched the chair.
"Where's Michael?" Lucy inquired just as lumbering footsteps creaked down the stairs.
"Here," he sighed, flopping down into the chair beside Flick.
"Are we still going to the beach?" Sam asked eagerly, drowning his pancakes in maple syrup.
"Yeah, we'll head out after lunch," Michael nodded, swallowing a mouthful of orange juice.
"I thought we were spending the day at the beach not the afternoon," Sam groused.
"Yeah well I figured we could check out the boardwalk after the beach, you'll be flagging by four if we set out now," Michael clarified, reaching for the tub of Nutella.
"Would not," Sam pouted and Flick rolled her eyes, he could be such a big baby sometimes. Personally, she didn't give a shit what time they went to the beach, the later the better, the only reason she wanted to go at all was to see if maybe she'd run into Paul, she couldn't get that mischievous smile or those twinkling grey eyes out of her mind.
Swoon.
"So what's with the pancakes mom? We celebrating something?" Michael inquired and Flick smirked against the rim of her mug.
Lucy shot Flick a pointed look. "Well yes actually, I do have some good news," she smiled, swatting at Sam's hand when he reached for another helping of pancakes. "Finish what's on your plate first Sam."
"What's the news? Has dad finally coughed up some alimony?" Flick scoffed.
"No-" Lucy sighed sadly, "-but I've found myself a job so hopefully, better days are on the horizon kids."
"That's great mom, what's the gig?" Michael asked curiously.
"Oh it's just the assistant manager at the video store," Lucy waved dismissively.
"Assistant manager? Does that mean you'll get free rentals?" Sam quizzed giddily, his eyes drifting to the TV in the lounge.
"I'm not sure what the perks are Sam, I'm just happy to have the job."
"I'm happy for you mom, you deserve a break," Flick smiled sincerely.
"Thanks honey, that means a lot," Lucy beamed, rolling her eyes when Sam ignored her previous instructions to finish what was on his place in favour of stacking another three pancakes onto his plate.
~/~
"Your balls are gonna fry in those jeans Mike, we're at the beach, it's customary to get your legs out, let everything breathe a little, you know?" Sam chimed, kicking off his flip-flops.
"Just concentrate on your own balls, or lack of and leave mine out of it," Michael retorted, folding his jacket into a make-shift pillow, slipping it beneath his head.
"Hey I've got balls Mike, big ones, manly ones," Sam countered.
"Sure you have Samantha, are those big manly balls of yours in charge of picking out your outfits?"
Flick snorted a laugh as she whipped off her t-shirt, her eyes scanning the beach for any sign of wild, dirty blonde hair. Disappointed when she found the area devoid of anyone that looked remotely similar, she lowered herself onto the sand, feeling her pale skin tightening beneath the invisible rays of the sun as she settled in for an afternoon of sun, sand, sea and bickering.
Fed up with listening to her two brothers bickering, peacocking and trying to prove who had the bigger dick, Flick hauled herself up from the sand, stretching her aching body and padded towards the ocean. The horizon was starting to darken, the powder blue sky streaked with pastel pinks and apricot. Flick took a hesitant step into the ocean, smiling when instead of the bitter, biting cold she'd expected, glorious warm water lapped at her ankles, beckoning her further into the calm waves. She immersed herself in the blissful water, her sun kissed skin tingling as gentle waves rolled over her shoulders, washing away the errant grains of sand stuck to her hair and skin.
"Flick, you wanna grab a burger?" Michael hollered from the beach, waving his arms to grab her attention.
Flick gave him a thumbs up, reluctantly making her way out of the water. She shook the sand off her t-shirt and tugged it over her wet body knowing that with the heat of the evening, she'd be bone dry within half an hour and after dusting the soggy sand from her feet the best she could, stepped back into her shoes. "We going to the diner or...?" Flick inquired, trailing her two brothers back up the beach towards the boardwalk. With the waning daylight, the flashing neon lights lit up the wooden walkway in surges of colour and the subtle background music that had been left to play calmly throughout the day was replaced by pounding bass and obnoxiously loud pop music all interspersed with bursts of carnival melodies.
"The diner's gonna be packed," Sam mused, looking over at the crowds that seemed to flock from nowhere.
"We could grab a burger from one of the food trucks by the bottom exit, it's quieter down there," Michael offered and Flick gave a shrug of affirmation; she wasn't bothered where they ate, she was actually feeling a little deflated that she hadn't seen Paul. Then again, why did she feel so deflated? They'd shared a smile, eye contact and a few words, it wasn't like she'd known him weeks and suddenly he wasn't around, it had been one meeting.
Why could she feel his absence? Why could see feel the absence of someone she didn't know?
Flick slid onto the bench of one of the picnic tables in the small area surrounding the food trucks, propping her head in her hand as Mike and Sam went to order the food. She glanced up at the sky, taken aback by how quickly dusk had settled, the sky was now an inky black dotted with glinting golden stars. She exhaled a small sigh, absentmindedly tracing a crack in the table with her finger nail when she felt it, that same overwhelming sensation she'd felt last night, the sensation of being watched. A dull, throbbing ache seemed to settle in her core as her head snapped up, her eyes darting around as she tried to find the cause of such a strong, overpowering sensation.
"You OK Flick?" Sam's voice snapped her out of her meticulous search, frowning when she felt the sensation slowly fade.
"Yeah fine," she brushed it off, mumbling a thanks when her brother slid a Styrofoam box loaded with a greasy cheeseburger and fries in front of her, followed by a creamy strawberry shake. She took a sip of the cold, sweet beverage, trying to ignore the gnawing ache that seemed to bloom beneath her sternum.
~/~
"So, what's the plan now?" Flick asked neither brother in particular as they navigated the boardwalk in a broken triangle formation.
"I wanna check out the comic book store," Sam blabbered, his face lighting up with childish excitement whilst Michael groaned in objection.
"No way am I hanging around in some dingy comic store while you jizz over the latest Superman comic," he grimaced.
"I second that Sam, sorry but my idea of a good time isn't loitering in some run-down comic shop, I mean look at it, it's lifeless, it's like they're not even trying," she gestured to the grubby store front a few feet away.
"Well I don't really want you two killing my vibe either-" Sam retorted haughtily, "-if you're gonna be so dismissive of my interests then let's split – I'll see you back at home."
"We're not gonna leave you alone Sam, it's a thirty minute walk back in the dark, it's not safe," Flick argued, feeling protective of her little brother.
"Nah, leave him-" Michael shrugged, "-it was probably a bad idea to suggest we all hang out together, let's just split and save the arguments…"
"But-" Flick tried to argue, the thought of making the walk home alone sending her into a cold sweat, anything could happen…
"-Don't be such a wimp," Sam scoffed.
Flick stared at her little brother incredulously, she'd been trying to look out for him and this was the thanks she got? "You know what? Screw the both of you, if you don't give a shit, then neither do I," she exclaimed, shouldering her way through the crowds.
Flick found herself huddled on a bench on the far end of the pier overlooking the beach watching the ocean waves slowly lap at the shore, it was kind of soothing, lulling her into a false sense of security. She tugged her crumpled pack of Marlboro's from beneath the strap of her bikini, exhaling a sigh of frustration when she found only one cigarette remained. Flick fished out the lone cancer stick, clamping it between her lips as her thumb worked the flint of her lighter, becoming increasingly frustrated when the flame sparked to life for all of a second before dying out.
"Piece of shit…" she hissed, continuing her fight with the battered lighter.
"Need a light?" a familiar Californian drawl broke the frustrated haze clouding her mind and her head snapped up, a coy smile working its way onto her face when she found a pair of roguish grey eyes staring back at her. Paul fished a heavy silver lighter out of his jacket pocket, running the flame beneath the tip of her cigarette with effortless ease.
"Thanks," Flick exhaled, feeling the first glorious inhalation tickle and burn her lungs.
"Always willing to help a damsel in distress," he winked, making her stomach flutter.
"My hero," Flick smirked, earning a wicked grin in return.
"You must be new to town, huh?" Paul stated, lowering himself onto the bench beside her. He was so close she could feel the heat radiating from him in warm, tantalising waves and she was overcome with the urge to move closer.
"What makes you say that?"
"'Cause people that have been around here long enough know it ain't such a good idea to be out here on their own after dark – did you not get the memo? Santa Carla's the murder capital of the world…" he smirked, his eyes flashing with mirth.
"Oh right, yeah… my brother mentioned something about that-" Flick shrugged, "-didn't stop him bailing on me though, did it?"
"It's a good job you've got your own personal knight in shining armour then, yeah?" he nudged her arm playfully and Flick felt her cheeks heat shyly.
"Apparently," she smiled, flicking the tab of her cigarette over the rails of the pier.
"Hey, there's a concert happening down by the beach, I was heading there with the boys, do you wanna come?" Paul asked, a small hopeful smile gracing his handsome features.
"You sure your friends won't mind me crashing the party?" Flick chewed her bottom lip shyly.
"Nah, they're cool, you'll see," he grinned, like it was a certainty.
"OK, sure, I'd like that," Flick nodded, following Paul's lead back down the pier.
Flick's mind was racing in time with her heart as she walked alongside Paul. She couldn't help but wonder how he'd found her, surely it wasn't that easy? It must have been like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Nevertheless, he'd found her and the grey cloud of disappointment that had hovered over her all day faded until it was nothing but a distant memory. Everything felt right again.
Flick glanced over at Paul from the corner of her eye, taking a moment to appraise him, to drink in all he had to offer. He was drop dead gorgeous. He was wearing a pair of rather tight white jeans, black biker boots, a white tank beneath a black fish net tee and a random tux jacket over the top. His style was different, it was effortlessly cool and it suited him perfectly. Flick's eyes drifted over his body, he was slim but not overly so, athletic perhaps? She found herself wondering if she were to slip her hands beneath his shirt, would she feel hard knots of muscle beneath her fingertips or something softer? She swallowed, her eyes roaming his strong forearms, finding his wrists were adorned with a plethora of bracelets while his fingers were bejewelled with random rings of all shapes and sizes. He had gorgeous hands and once again her mind wandered, wondering how those very hands would feel against her bare skin.
Flick shook off the intrusive thoughts when she started to feel between her thighs ache with a familiar need. Was it too soon to invite him home to explore the feelings he'd seemingly sparked inside her? She'd never felt such undeniable chemistry with a guy before, it was new, it was slightly nerve-wracking but damn was it exciting. She exhaled a shaky breath, glancing up at Paul to find him studying her with an intensity that literally took her breath away. His grey eyes flashed with knowing, his bottom lip working its way between his teeth as his mouth curved up in a mischievous smirk, like he knew exactly what she'd been thinking. He was about to speak when the magic of the moment was ruined by a drunk teen who'd staggered away from his friendship group and slammed right into Flick, almost knocking her off her feet.
"You got eyes asshole?" Paul practically growled, grabbing the stumbling teen by the scruff of his shirt.
"Yeah?" he frowned, obviously confused.
"Then fucking use 'em," Paul hissed, shoving him back with considerable force, leaving the teen sprawled on the floor, hollering slurred insults. "You OK?" he turned his attention to Flick, her skin tingling beneath the heat of his hand that gently pressed against her arm.
"Yeah, I'm good," she smiled, brushing her hair out of her face.
"You know I think it's better if I keep you close-" Paul wrapped his arm around her shoulder, "-you know, in the interest of safety?" he grinned, his grey eyes twinkling under the bright lights.
"You just wanna put your hands on me, don't you?" Flick smirked cheekily.
"You want me to put my hands on you, don't you?" Paul countered and Flick felt like she'd been shrouded in a blanket of static. Her body flushed with a familiar heat that triggered the urge to slam him against the nearest wall and run her fingers through his wild mane of dirty blonde hair whilst she sucked his full, juicy bottom lip between her teeth. Ugh.
"Rather presumptuous of you Paul, we've only just met…" Flick shrugged.
"Time means nothing to me Flick, I've got all the time in the world," Paul drawled, causing her stomach to flutter with a hundred drunken butterflies. She felt utterly frozen, powerless, unwilling and unable to look away from those hypnotising pale grey eyes. She felt as though she'd stepped into an invisible forcefield, unable to resist the otherworldly magnetic force that seemed to draw her in Paul's direction. She wanted to be in his space, she wanted to glue herself to him, she wanted to lose herself in everything that he made her feel, until the world and time itself ceased to exist. It was only him and her, connected, unified, chained.
"C'mon, the concerts about to start," he murmured, breaking her out of her jumbled thoughts of longing. What the hell was happening to her?
Paul ushered her down a set of sand dusted stone steps that lead into a make-shift pit-like area bordering an open-air stage. Rusting oil drums lit up the area in a warm glow, the sound of crackling wood carrying over the sound of the cheering crowd while the smell of burning driftwood hung heavy in the air, the flickering amber flames licking lazily at the night sky. The atmosphere was tangible. Flick swore if she reached out she could touch it, that she'd feel the hedonistic vibe ripple over her bare skin like the caress of curious fingers. The heat of Paul's hand seeped through the thin cotton of her t-shirt, scorching an imprint into her skin as he steered her in the direction of a less crowded corner where three guys gathered, casually talking amongst themselves.
As they drew closer, Flick recognised the trio as the guys who'd been with Paul last night at the sandwich shop. On closer inspection, Flick started to feel slightly unnerved. There was something darkly alluring about the group yet at the same time, something darkly intimidating; like the calm before the storm. Flick could feel that despite their stoic, calm exteriors, there was danger lurking just below the surface. She glanced up at Paul for reassurance, earning a small smile, "nervous?" he inquired, a flicker of understanding flashing in his eyes.
Flick nodded, rubbing the palms of her hands against her thighs in an attempt to remove the anxious sweat that made her skin feel slick and clammy. "Don't be, you're with me," Paul smiled and Flick experienced a strange confidence boost, alarmed by how quickly she seemed to trust a guy she'd only just a met.
A guy that was clearly part of some kind of gang. A guy that had no qualms about wrapping a pool cue around the back of someone's head. A guy who was obviously older than her, more experienced and confident in who he was…
She should be intimidated, she should be acting with caution and reservation but here she was, running head-on into the storm, like a moth drawn to a flame knowing that in the end, she could only hope that she didn't get burnt. Then again, would she really care? Looking into those mischievous pale grey eyes, Flick knew that resistance was futile, she'd fall for him, she knew she would, grazed knees and bloody palms be damned.
"The wanderer returns," the platinum blonde with piercing blue eyes drawled, tilting his head curiously, his brow arching as he looked the two of them over.
"Thought you'd ditched us dude, what took you so long?" the curly haired blonde smirked, folding his arms over his chest.
"C'mon guys, where are your manners?-" the biggest of the trio grinned, flashing his pearly white teeth, "-aren't you gonna introduce us Paul?" his grin morphed into a knowing smile.
"Guy's this is Flick," Paul chimed, tucking her under his arm.
"Flick? Is that short for something or was your mother high when she named you?" the platinum blonde smirked, lighting himself a cigarette.
"It's actually short for Felicity-" she shrugged, not taking offense, "-but Felicity sounds too much like celibacy, sobriety and church on Sunday's."
"Well if that's the case, you made a very poor decision tonight," David smirked.
Paul rolled his eyes. "Flick this is David, if you haven't already figured it out, he's a bit of a dick – just ignore him, the rest of us do," Paul smiled down at her, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly.
"Dick or brutally honest?" David countered.
"I'm down with brutal honesty, I'd rather know the truth than someone piss on my head and try tell me it's raining," Flick interjected and David grinned.
Although the action had a somewhat sinister undercurrent, Flick found herself feeling oddly accepted.
"This is Dwayne," Paul introduced her to the most striking of the group, his hair like a waterfall of liquid obsidian flowing over his broad shoulders.
"Hi," Dwayne smiled.
"Hey," Flick returned his smile somewhat shyly.
"And this is Marko," Paul continued, gesturing to the shorter curly haired blonde.
"Hey," Marko grinned, his baby blue eyes dancing with mirth. "I'm gonna go grab us some drinks…" he stated, moving off into the crowds.
"So Felicity-" David smirked teasingly, "-when you've been here as long as I have, you notice things - people, faces, places… yet you're unfamiliar. What brings you to Santa Carla?" he inquired, his face momentarily obscured by a cloud of cigarette smoke.
Flick watched Paul fumble around in his jacket pocket, fishing out a baggie of weed and a crisp white paper, cradling the items like they were the most precious cargo his hands had ever held. Flick turned her attention back to David as Paul meticulously rolled a joint. "We used to spend summer vacation out here all the time when I was a kid, my Grampa used to live out here," she started, interrupted when Marko returned, holding a tray of frosty beers.
Paul clamped his freshly rolled joint between his lips, grabbing two beers from the tray, offering one to Flick with a crooked smile. "Thanks," Flick grinned. She pulled back the damp ring-pull, slurping the froth that bubbled around the rim with a hiss of escaping gas.
"You were saying?" David brought her back to the conversation they'd been having and Flick wiped her wet fingers on her t-shirt, turning to face him.
"What were we talking about again?" she frowned, distracted by the way Paul was staring down at her, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as her mouth moulded to the rim of the can.
Whatever he was thinking, she was pretty sure she'd already thought it about him…
"I asked you what brought you to Santa Carla," David reminded patiently.
"Oh yeah-" Flick nodded, taking another sip of her beer, "-I told you we used to spend summer vacation out here every summer, right?"
"Something about your grandfather, yes," David nodded, gesturing for her to continue.
"Wait, whose we?" Marko chirped, tossing the cardboard tray into the nearest oil drum.
"Me, my mom and my brothers," Flick clarified.
"Your dad not like the coast or something?" Dwayne casually inquired.
"My dad never really give a shit about spending time with us, he still doesn't – not that it matters, he's back in Phoenix and we're out here…"
"Divorce?" David stated pointedly.
"Yeah, my mom caught him bending his twenty-two year old secretary over his desk – he definitely wasn't showing her she'd missed a spot, I'd say she was probably hitting it," Flick grimaced.
"That had to be tough on your mom," Dwayne commented, leaning against the rail that bordered the beach.
"Yeah she took it pretty hard but he'd been treating her like shit for years."
"You seem to be taking the whole upheaval rather well, you don't seem too traumatised by the whole experience," David exclaimed as Flick swallowed a mouthful of beer.
"Smoke?" Paul offered her the smouldering joint and she eagerly accepted, taking a hit, holding it in her lungs before exhaling a slow, satisfied breath.
"Shit, she's a pro," Marko chuckled.
"Can we keep her?" Paul grinned, shooting her a playful wink.
Flick took another hit on the joint before offering it to David who accepted the offering with a tight smile. She didn't think smiling came natural to the stoic platinum blonde.
"What about your brothers, how are they handling the move?" Dwayne picked up the conversation where David left off. It was strange talking about what some people would consider a very personal subject with a group of strangers yet somehow Flick felt like she was in the company of old friends, old friends that were simply just catching up on recent events after being out of touch for a while.
"Sam, my younger brother, he's just being his usual bratty self and Michael my older brother, he's pretty much the same too. I think the only one the whole situation was hardest for was for my mom, especially since my Grampa passed away just before we moved out here. So she's been kicked in the teeth twice in the space of a few months."
"And where are your brothers now?" David inquired.
"Sam's at the comic store and I don't know where Michael is, probably round here somewhere chasing ass," Flick shrugged, swallowing another mouthful of beer.
"Do they do that often?" David continued.
"Do what?" Flick frowned, confused.
"Ditch you…"
"Oh…" Flick's frown deepened, "I guess? I don't know, I haven't really thought about it…"
"I say fuck 'em-" Marko grinned impishly, "-stick with us, we'll be the brothers you never had," he winked.
"Aside from Paul - I don't think his motives are that innocent," Dwayne smirked.
"They never are," David smirked, eliciting muted snickers.
Flick glanced up at Paul, her eyes drifting from his pale, grey irises to his pale, kissable lips, chewing her lip coyly, her stomach fluttering with the promise of things to come.
She really didn't want his motives to be innocent, not even a little...
~/~
By the time, the concert was over and the last dregs of rowdy revellers were sluggishly making their way out of the pit, Flick was more than a little buzzed. She'd danced, she'd drank, she'd smoked, she'd laughed; she couldn't recall a time that she'd felt so happy and content. It didn't seem to matter that she'd only just met the boys, it didn't seem to matter that only last night she'd watched them kick ten shades of shit out of a group of Surf Nazi's, it didn't seem to matter that she knew that they were inherently dangerous. She felt safe, protected, she felt like she belonged.
"Are there any toilets around here?" Flick inquired, her eyes scanning the vicinity, grimacing when a familiar niggling discomfort made itself known in her groin.
"You need to go?" Paul replied, pushing himself away from the rail he was propped against.
"Yeah," she nodded, hopping from foot to foot earning amused snickers.
"The inconveniences of being human, hmmm?" David smirked, his eyes flashing with hidden knowledge which Flick just couldn't fathom even if she tried. His exclamation was a little strange, commenting on human inconveniences and all, Flick thought to herself but perhaps he sympathised? There was nothing worse than cutting the fun short because you needed to piss.
"C'mon, let's go empty the ole' tank," Paul grinned and Flick giggled, trailing him towards the steps. "Woah, steady," he chuckled, catching her arm when she tripped on the top step leading up onto the boardwalk. "You're a bit of a clutz, aren't you?" he teased, slipping his hand in hers.
Flick's heart stuttered, momentary caught off guard by the weight of his hand in hers, the cool metal of his rings a stark contrast to the heat of her skin. "I must seem like such a dork, huh?" she smiled shyly.
"Nah, I think it's cute," Paul smiled, squeezing her hand as they came to a stop outside the entrance to a large rectangular concrete building, it's exterior decorated with crude graffiti. "I'll wait for you here, yeah?"
"OK," she smiled, reluctantly releasing his hand. Flick ambled down the tiled corridor leading down to the toilets, the fluorescent lights hanging from the ceiling bathing the corridor in an eerie blue light, giving the place a creepy vibe, especially so it seemed, at night. Flick wondered what time it was as she passed a teenage girl having a rather animated fight with a tampon dispenser and stifled the urge to laugh when she punched the old rusting box and exploded into a stream of profanities. Flick coughed to cover her snort of laughter, passing the men's toilets that stank of stale urine and the strong chemical odour of urinal cakes. She wrinkled her nose in disgust, hurrying the rest of the way down to the women's toilets. She stepped into the run-down room, grimacing at the grimy walls and graffiti covered stalls, passing a group of girls who were currently comforting their friend whilst she wailed about some guy who'd ditched her at the concert to hang with his friends.
Flick rolled her eyes and headed for the nearest empty stall, making sure it had tissue before locking the door behind her. She lined the toilet seat with thin squares of paper, turning her nose up at the idea of sitting bare-arsed on a seat that was probably crawling with bacteria. She awkwardly positioned herself over the seat, scanning the walls of the stall in an attempt to distract herself. The walls were covered in the usual crude graffiti you often found in public toilets; 'call xxx-xxx for a good time.'
'Jenna is a home-wrecking slut.'
'Holly & Rex 4eva.'
Flick reached out to grab some more tissue, using her elbow to flush the toilet before heading over to the sinks. The group of girls were still crowded on the far side of the small space by the end stall, only the sobbing girls tears of rejection had turned into tears of anger and she was throwing around expletives like it was an Olympic sport. Flick washed her hands, drying them beneath the old, battered hand dryer before doubling back to the grubby mirrors to check her hair and make-up. She combed her fingers through her wild hair, doing her best to neaten it and gently wiped the black smudges of mascara from beneath her eyes. Giving her reflection a half-arsed nod of approval, she made her way out towards the exit.
Outside, she found Paul lounging against the wall, absentmindedly scanning the waning crowds. "Thought you'd fallen in," he teased, his lips turning up in a smirk as he turned to face her.
"Ha-ha," she giggled, shaking her head in amusement, her giggles morphing into a strangled yawn.
"It's getting late babe, maybe I should take you home?" Paul frowned, making her stomach flutter when he gently tucked her hair behind her ear.
"What time is it?" she leant into his touch, the action feeling natural, right.
"Almost two," Paul murmured, stepping closer.
"Shit, it's like a thirty minute walk back in the dark," Flick groaned.
Paul chuckled, his arms folding around her waist as he drew her against his chest. "Don't talk out your arse babe, I said I'm taking you home," he drawled, swaying side to side.
Flick raised her head, peering up at him from beneath her lashes. "Paul…"
"Hmm?" he smiled down at her.
"What's happening right now?" she whispered.
"What do you mean, I'm taking you home?" he frowned, confused.
"No, I mean…" she sighed, "what's happening with us? I… God this is gonna sound so fucking stupid," she buried her face against his chest embarrassed.
"I promise I won't think it's stupid, tell me…" he urged, tilting her chin with his finger.
"I just… I just feel like I've known you forever… like… I don't know… I can't explain it…" she flustered, regretting her sixth? seventh? Beer.
"What's so stupid about that?" Paul shrugged.
"C'mon it sounds totally lame Paul – I never believed in all that fate bullshit but with you… I…" she shook her head, unable to articulate everything she was feeling, her head was one big jumble of bullshit she knew would send him running if it just so happened to tumble out of her mouth.
"What if I told you I feel it too, would it still be stupid?" he countered, toying with the ends of her hair.
"Not stupid, maybe bullshit," Flick scoffed self-deprecatingly.
"Why would it be bullshit?" Paul seemed slightly offended and Flick pushed back the desire to tell him she didn't mean it.
She wouldn't end up like her mom, she wasn't about to let any guy, no matter how gorgeous he was take her for an idiot.
"Look at you Paul, you're gorgeous, you're older, more experienced and all the other cliché bullshit. Why would you be interested in me?"
"I didn't think you were the kind of chick that gave a shit about all that kinda stuff-" Paul shrugged, "–I feel like we vibe Flick, I feel like we're the same kinda person. I wanna get to know you, straight up, no bullshit. Plus you're totally hot so that's definitely a bonus," he grinned, his hands snaking down to her ass, sending a shiver like an ice-cold finger down the length of her spine.
"Charmer," she giggled.
"C'mon, lemme take you home," he smiled, squeezing her hips.
"OK," Flick returned his smile, sinking into his side when he slung his arm around her shoulder, guiding her towards the exit of the boardwalk.
~/~
Flick's stomach churned with nerves when Paul came to a stop beside a rather impressive motorcycle. She'd never ridden on a motorcycle before, back in Phoenix all her friends had cars, this would be a new experience, one inherently more dangerous than sliding into the passenger seat of a mustang. "You ride?" she asked anxiously, her eyes roaming the beastly hunk of polished chrome, steel and leather.
"Yeah, why? You scared?" he smirked, nudging her shoulder.
"Maybe," she worried her bottom lip between her teeth.
"I promise I won't let anything happen to you and I'll go slow, if it makes you feel better?"
"Promise you'll go slow?"
"Though it goes against everything I stand for, for you, I'll go slow," he grinned, settling himself upfront. Paul twisted his body to the side, holding out his hand to help Flick climb up onto the back, advising her where she should put her feet. She shuffled forward, getting as close as was physically possible to Paul and wrapped her arms securely around his waist. The engine roared to life and her stomach roiled. "You good babe?" Paul's voice drawled over the deep rumble of the engine.
"Yeah," she replied, burying her face against his back when she felt the bike slowly roll forward.
"Just lemme know where I'm going yeah?" Paul stated as she felt the bike gradually pick up speed.
At first she was afraid, she was petrified. Heh. However, once she got used to the incessant vibration of the engine beneath her and the caress of the warm breeze in her hair, she started to enjoy it. It felt so good to be so close to Paul, her body pressed up against his, her hands splayed over his firm, lithe torso, so much so that she could feel a wave of disappointment wash over her when they came to a rolling stop at the end of the drive. Flick peered up at the house, noting that all the lights were out; either everyone was sleeping or they were still out. Paul pushed himself up off the bike only to straddle the seat seconds later, his body now facing hers. Flick combed her fingers through her wind-whipped hair, fluffing her chocolate brown tresses over her shoulders, her stomach fluttering giddily when she noticed Paul's eyes flash wolfishly when they drifted to her splayed, exposed thighs.
"You look good all dishevelled," he smirked.
"I do?" she quirked her eyebrow.
"Yeah," he murmured, grazing his fingers up her bare thigh and Flick felt her skin flush with heat. "I like it when you blush," Paul smirked, hooking her calves over his thighs.
Flick's stomach churned like a washing machine on a spin cycle whilst her skin prickled like she'd just walked into a wall of static as the air around them seemed to suddenly charge with an almost tangible spark of electricity. She stared into Paul's eyes, unable to look away as a gnawing ache pulsed in her core and her heart jack-hammered against her ribs. She swallowed thickly, her body vibrating with nervous anticipation as Paul's face drew closer until finally their lips met and every nerve in Flick's body sparked to life. Paul's lip's ghosted her mouth, smoothing expertly against her lips like they were meant to fit each other. The pressure on her lips grew and she hummed in response, reaching out to link her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. She could feel Paul smile against her lips, his thumb tracing circles on the underside of her jaw whilst the other hand inched up her thigh.
Paul dropped a succession of light, playful kisses to her lips before pulling away completely.
"Will I see you tomorrow?" Flick asked, a little breathlessly.
"Yeah, meet me at the boardwalk," Paul smiled, playfully nudging her lips as he helped her down from his bike.
"Where?" she frowned, straightening out her shirt.
"I'll find you," Paul winked.
"Right, so… umm… night?" Flick smiled awkwardly.
"Night babe," Paul chuckled, shooting one last fleeting glance her way as he backed down the drive before disappearing out of sight.