Picking up my beer, taking a drink, I wait for the sound of feet scrunching against sand to make it close to me.
Chris Durand. He’s joining the police force after we get home. He goes on daily and nightly jogs to keep in shape. He’s driven and has focus. A clear and definite purpose. Besides all that, he’s just a cool dude to hang with. Mellow, when—I look again toward the place where everyone is—most of those fools are hyped up on freedom and all that comes with it.
The feel of it reminds me of Maggie Beautiful, if someone ever dared to put her in a box.
Chris stands over me, and when I look up, he nods down. “Mind if I chill out here with you for a while?”
I clear some sand and say, “Take a seat.”
He grins and does, but he gives me a little space, some distance. Droplets of sweat run down his face, and he uses his arm to wipe the ones the breeze isn’t drying to his skin.
“You looking for some quiet, Fausti?”
My eyes roam over to the crowd again and then back to the water. “Found it.”
“Yeah, me too. After my run, my head is clear, and I’m not ready to fill it up with that.” He nods in the direction of the house. “Though I’m not really after quiet, know what I mean?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I do.”
Most people say that if you want someone to sit next to who doesn’t talk, come sit next to me. Conversation isn’t really my thing.
“Too much static for my head right now. When I saw you sitting here, seemed like a good place to park it and think.”
I grin. “Not too much of that going on.”
He laughs, but it doesn’t disturb anything. “Could’ve fooled me, Fausti. Then again, you do that a lot, but not on purpose. If there was an award handed out for the most stoic motherfucker at school, it would have gone to you.”
We both become quiet as the waves roll into shore. Even though the woosh woosh is light, it sounds louder in my head. It drowns out the chaotic noises coming from the place we’re staying.
A loud screech has us both turning our heads in the same direction. Elliott had flung his girlfriend into the pool and then jumped in right behind her.
“Hard to believe, huh? Them getting married.”
“Nah,” I said. “When you know, you know.”
He laughs, a little lower this time. “What the fuck would you know about that? You’re the eternal bachelor. I’m pretty sure every female in school got together and voted on that. And the unanimous winner is…Brando Fausti!”
“If I have the fucking award, that means I’m the expert. Love and marriage exist, but they’re as rare as heaven for a sinner like me.”
He turns his eyes toward the water, a serious look coming over his face. “I’m proud of you, man. For taking the scholarship. For leaving that town and going to college.”
“Tell me what you expected me to do.”
“Honestly?”
A question I refuse to answer because it’s a waste of a word, a breath. He doesn’t need my permission, and besides that, I don’t deal in bullshit.
“Your family. I know who they are, about them, so…I know where you belong. If I were to guess, that’s probably what’s on your mind.”
Quiet descends for a few minutes before he clears his throat.
“Just because it’s in the blood doesn’t mean our blood has to paint our behavior, Fausti. So, if you’re thinking of reconsidering your scholarship to go down another road, one that leads you closer to Italy, think again.”
“And again, and again, and again. Can’t argue with sense, Durand.”
“Lots of things make sense. Doesn’t mean we have to do them.”
Grinning, I pick the beer up, taking another drink. “You must know,” I said, “or you wouldn’t be sitting next to me, trying to make sense of my life.”
