Bekah moved through the many boxes that were piled in her room. She was trying to find a nice outfit to go over her swim suit for the party, but with everything in boxes it was hard to find out where the clothes she wanted were.
"Hey," she heard Michael say, his footsteps were heavy as he went ahead and came into her room.
"What?" She snapped, ripping open a box and looking through all the clothes in it.
"Yes!" She yelled. She pulled out her favorite pair of jeans. They had holes everywhere and they looked just right on her. Her mother always begged her to get rid of them but Bekah always ignored her.
"Mom's taking us to the boardwalk. She has to find a job," Michael told her, rolling his eyes at her jeans. She curled a lip at him and threw the jeans on her bed.
"That's fine. I'm going to a party tonight anyway," she told him, shrugging her shoulders without a care.
"You know, they say twins are supposed to be alike. But we have nothing in common," Michael stated a-matter-of-factly. Bekah rolled her eyes.
"It's not like we're identical. We just have the same birthday," she said, moving over to a different box to try and find a shirt.
"But we're still twins," Michael added.
"I know. Don't remind me." she said, pulling out a white beater from her box. It had belonged to her best friend Matthew. He had given it to her as a sort of going away present. She was always stealing his beaters to wear to beach parties.
She smiled at the memories, forgetting Michael was in her room.
"Whose party is it?" Michael asked suddenly, Bekah turned to scowl at him.
"I'm the older sister, remember? Don't worry about it." She rolled her eyes and threw her beater on the bed next to her jeans.
"You're older by two minutes, Bek. And I can still ask if I want."
"It's not like you're gonna wanna go. It's just a beach party. Some surfers I met today are throwing it."
"You don't surf," Michael sneered, his lip turned up a bit.
"Then I guess this is a great time for me to start. Now, I have to get ready, so can you get out?"
Michael nodded, rolling his eyes before leaving the room.
Bekah sighed, she was finally alone.
She didn't quite know what to think of this place so far. It was weird, being in this part of California. She actually had a boardwalk she could hang out on every night if she wanted to. It was almost better than her old town. But then again, the boardwalk would probably get old.
"Better enjoy it while it lasts," she muttered to herself before walking back to her bed. She pulled her pants off and pulled on her swimsuit bottom, pulling her jeans on over them, making sure they landed just right on her hips. She pulled off her shirt lazily after that, her bra too. When she finally got her swimsuit top on, she pulled on the beater. She looked good, now all she had to do was freshen up her makeup and her hair and she was on her way.
"Bekah!" She heard her mom calling. 'I can ignore, or I can yell back', she thought, wondering what she was going to do. 'Ignore'
She walked to her mirror, pulling out her makeup bag and dumping it on her dresser. She searched through everything, looking for her powder foundation. She popped it open and applied a thin layer before freshening her eyeliner and mascara. Now she was ready to go down stairs and confront the monster. She grabbed her converse shoes out of the corner and made her way down the stairs, following her mother's voice which was still yelling for her.
"What?" She asked, sitting down at the dining room table and pulling her shoes on one at a time.
"We're going to the boardwalk."
"I know. I have a party to go to," she told her mom, not making eye contact.
"What?" Her mom howled, her motherly ways setting in.
"I-have-a-party-to-go-to," she said slowly, making sure her mom caught every word. Lucy just gave her a disapproving look.
"Did you ask to go to this party?"
"Do I ever?" Bekah snapped, an eyebrow raised. Her mother scowled at her and Bekah got the feeling that Lucy wasn't even going to try and fight with her.
"You need a ride then?" Lucy asked finally after a few long minutes of silence.
"Yeah, I need a ride. I'm just going to ride up with you guys and find a ride home," Bekah explained. Lucy nodded.
"Well, we're leaving now. MICAHEL, SAM, COME ON!" Lucy shouted. Bekah plugged her ears, glaring at her mom for the loud noise. Her mother just gave her what was supposed to be an innocent shrug before heading towards the car.
The ride was long, tense, and very silent and when they finally reached the boardwalk, Bekah jumped right out.
"Meet us right back here," her mother instructed.
"Yeah, whatever," she said, giving her mother a half salute before walking off in her own direction.
"I mean it, Bekah," her mom said in what was supposed to be a stern voice.
"Sure!" She yelled back, walking a little faster.
She made her way to what she figured was the spot she was supposed to meet the surfers at but got sidetracked at how cool the boardwalk looked in the dark. Lights were everywhere and there were all kinds of people around. They had different colors of hair, different styles of clothes. It was awesome. It was heaven. Sounds of laughter and talking and smells of alcohol and sweat filled her. This was heaven!
What more could a girl want?
A cigarette.
She finally stopped near the fence of the boardwalk and searched the crowd, craning her neck. Her plan was to "bum" a smoke off of a board walker. The hard part?
Picking out someone who smoked. That was always the hard part.
"Yeah!" She said to herself with excitement. She saw the perfect prey walking right in her direction. He had on a long black jacket with easy access to the pockets. Andhe looked like a smoker. She moved quickly through the crowd lining herself up perfectly with him. Pick pocketing was an art. You had to get it just right, otherwise you were going to fail miserably and come up empty handed, or get caught. Bekah had practiced this art for many years now, and took pride in it too.
She moved swiftly towards him, deciding on whether to go with the bump and grab, the smile and wink, or the regular brush past. This guy was kind of scary to tell the truth though, and she figured that the first two should definitely be ruled out, which left her with the regular brush past.
She moved slowly towards him, waiting for just the right moment. And when it came, she brushed past him, dipping her hand into his pocket and bringing it out quickly. She was about to smile with content and walk away, but her plans were quickly changed when a cold, hard hand grabbed her wrist.
She was twirled around, her wrist at an awkward angle, to meet very piercing, very cold blue eyes. They were stunning to tell the truth...stunning and scary.
For a minute, he just stared at her, almost as if looking her over, deciding if she was even worth talking to. So, she took the advantage and looked him over.
He was original that was for sure. She was liking the black coat and the white tee shirt underneath. And she really loved his white spiky blond hair. Something about his face though, something seemed off. It was paler then she thought it should be, and his eyes. They were so...unnatural.
"You gonna give 'em back or just gawk?" He asked finally. His voice was as icy as his eyes were and that made her shutter, which, in turn, caused him to smirk.
She stood there, dumb struck for a moment before finally snapping back into her sense.
"Give what back?" She asked, playing innocent. Usually if she got caught then playing innocent was the best way to go, but not with this guy.
"My ciggs," he answered her, his lips in an amused line. She huffed, mad that her innocent act didn't work.
"Not until I smoke one," she said, a smirk playing at her lips.
"Really?" He asked her, his eyebrows raised. "I like that, kid. Ya got spunk," he told her with a nod.
"And I also have a craving for nicotine, so if you wouldn't mind giving me my hand back..." she trailed off, letting her eyes wonder down to her wrist. He, however, kept his eyes on her for a few more moments before finally releasing her hand. She nodded her thanks and slipped a ciggy out of his pack before handing it back to him.
"Got a light?" She asked him. He nodded and dug through the same pocket she had picked him from and came out with a nice metal lighter.
"I should have dug deeper," she said with another smirk.
"Yeah, you should have," he said sarcastically before lighting her up.
"Thanks," she said, blowing out a stream of smoke.
"So what brings you to the boardwalk?" The guy asked her finally, putting his pack and his lighter back in his pocket.
"Parties," she told him with a shrug.
"Huh," he said, as if in thought. "In that case, you should probably come with me."
Bekah broke out in laughter, harsh, loud, laughter.
"I don't even know you're name," she explained, her laughter dyeing down.
"David," he said finally, a smirk on his lips.
"Bekah," she said.
"Well then Bekah, you want to go to a real party?"