It was Friday, and for Sam and Quinn that meant a long afternoon of surfing followed by a longer night of video games and pizza at Quinn's. They had split ways after school to drop off their schoolbags and fetch their gear, and then met up at their usual spot on the beach where they suited up together. It had become a sort of ritual for them, a tradition. Sam could not remember a time, barring bad weather, when he had not spent Friday afternoons with Quinn on the beach. Even when the sea was glass they would bring a couple of sodas and just sit, talking.
They undressed in a secluded part of the beach in a cove and began pulling on their wetsuits. In his mind, Sam supposed it made more sense for them to change at home while getting their boards, but for some reason they never did, preferring instead to suit up together.
"Did you see her today, man?" asked Quinn as he pulled off his sneakers.
Sam's mind went instinctively to Astrid. "What?"
"Jessica. Did you see how she was talking to that dick Marcus today? Laughing and touching on him while she looked me straight in the eyes. Head-on, brah, I swear."
"Oh, yeah, sure. It was weird," Sam agreed, relieved.
"You know she still hasn't talked to me, right? After that night, At Marcus's. It's like she's acting as if I don't even exist."
Sam didn't really know what to say to that, except, "Girls are weird, man." Then, "Zip me up?"
When they were done, they left their things in the little crevice in the cliffside and paddled out. Sam's thoughts were still on Astrid. He only saw her in homeroom and Guidance, the only non-AP class in school, but she occupied his thoughts for most of his other classes anyway. As he lay with his stomach on his board, hands trailing in the cold seawater, he wondered what she was doing right now. Homework maybe? Or possibly tutoring someone in algebra? Whatever it was, the thought highly intrigued him. He himself wasn't doing so badly in algebra; he was averaging a B. But if his grades started slipping, maybe …
Quinn yelled, "Hey man, are we gonna surf or not?"
Sam grinned and paddled out further. "I don't know, it's looking rough out today – you sure you can handle it?"
Quinn laughed scornfully and said, "Yeah, man, whatever. You talk big for someone who wiped out on a puny wave the size of my literal hand."
"Dude, I was ten."
"So was I, but you didn't see me falling."
Sam shook his head, laughed, and paddled out to meet Quinn.
They came out of the water as the sun started setting, both feeling tired but happy. With a surfboard under one arm and a bundle of clothes under the other, they headed down Sherman Avenue towards Alameda where Quinn lived, saying little. As they walked, Quinn whistled the theme tune to Adventure Time, kicking flecks of gravel with his bare feet. When they passed by her street, Sam knew the chances of seeing her were almost zero, but all the same, he walked a little slower. Just in case.
"What, you tired or something?"
"Nah, brah, I'm good."
"Then keep up, old man. There's still a long night of pizza ahead, and an even longer night of me kicking your ass in Tekken 5. I can't beat you if you're asleep. I mean, I could, but it's not the same, you know? Even though it'd technically be the same, seeing as how you're so –"
"You're all talk," Sam cut him off.
"We'll see about that. As I recall, I hold a month-long record in Tekken. Not that I'm counting."
"Yeah, and Tekken only. Dude, everyone knows Tekken is for button-mashers. And I've seen your little calendar counting your 'record', man, don't be shy about it."
"I wouldn't expect you to understand the fine art and technique behind a game like Tekken. It's called 'finesse', brah. Look it up."
They continued like this up until Quinn's house, where they left their boards on the front porch. They walked in to an empty house with no lights on.
"Where are your parents?"
"Gone, brah. 'Date night', or whatever. They drove up to this fancy place in San Luis, but they'll be back later." He spotted a note with some money left on the kitchen counter and snatched up the bills, crowing, "Pepperoni it is!"
"Sounds nice." Sam's thoughts went to his own mother, probably just arriving at Coates now for the night shift. When last had she had a date night?
"You want coke or Fanta?"
"Coke. Thanks."
They took their clothes and sodas up to Quinn's attic room. While Quinn showered in his parent's en-suite, Sam used the guest bathroom. They met back in the attic, and Quinn set up his PlayStation. Sam sat quietly in his beanbag, sipping his soda while looking out the window.
"I mean, Marcus isn't even her type. He definitely isn't her type."
"Who, Jessica?"
"Yeah, man, who else? I'm, like, 100% sure Marcus's not her type."
Same shifted uncomfortably in his bean bag.
"then what is her type?"
Quinn paused in thought, connecting the input cables to the TV.
"I don't know – maybe, like, guys who aren't total douchebags?"
"Dude, Marcus Walsh is one of the nicest guys in school. You just don't like him because you think Jessica was flirting with him."
"Shut up."
Sam laughed and took a swig of coke. "Okay, now I know I'm right. The fact that you denied it? That's a confirmation on its own."
"The fuck kind of logic is that?"
"Science, man. Can't fight it."
The familiar starting note of the PlayStation sounded and Quinn flopped resignedly into the beanbag next to Sam's.
"Anyway, what do you know? You couldn't get within a mile of a cute girl if you tried."
"That's not true, I went out with Anna like last week."
"Yeah, dude, the operative word was 'cute'."
"Anna's cute!" Sam protested.
"All I'm saying is, between Anna and Emma, you definitely drew the short stick."
"Quinn, they're twins."
"Okay, but like, non-identical, right? Aren't they?"
Sam rolled his eyes.
"Brah, shut up and pick your character already. And no, they aren't. They're literally identical twins."
Quinn selected Marshall Lee, as always. Sam usually favoured Lee Chaolan, but kept scrolling, hovering between Ganryu and Bryan Fury.
"What happened there anyway? Seeing as she's soooo cute and all? I thought she was pretty into you."
"She was." He selected Ganryu. "But …"
"But what?"
Sam hesitated. The truth was, he didn't know. Anna was a pretty girl, funny even. They'd had a good date. Sam could tell she was disappointed when he didn't kiss her goodbye, but he just didn't feel like it.
"She's not my type."
"Oh? So what's your type then?" Quinn asked, serving a flurry of attack combos.
Sam thought for a while, parrying. "Blonde."
"Blonde?"
"Yeah. Blonde." Ganryu delivered a devastating attack sequence, knocking Marshall Lee to the ground.
"Hey, no fair! I was distracted."
Sam laughed. "Not my problem, brother. You trying to talk so that you have an excuse when I kick your butt? You'll have to take down your Tekken calendar and write my name there, by the way."
"Oh, so it's like that, huh? Okay, you're on. But when I'm done wiping the floor with you, you're telling me all about your little hot blonde fetish."
Same smiled, settling into his beanbag.
"Not fucking likely."