14, 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐦𝐞

Olive smiles, nodding like a maniac at the picture. "You look so good!"

"You don't think it's too showy? I mean, I personally think girls should post whatever they want but I don't want to come off...cheap," I mutter. "Like a clout chaser."

"Trust me. You don't."

Hypocrite, I think, but shake the thought away as quick as I can. There's no point in arguing with her when we're pretty much forced to be together today. I might as well live it out.

💜 💬 ✈️

SORRY FOR THE NUDITY, I HAVE BEEN COERCED

stop posting pictures when i'm literally here, stupid gamer girl

ANYONE WHO COMMENTS ON THIS IS A SIMP

↳ .

ofhosiejfosjifs HOT

↳ ..........i'm questioning my sexuality

are u dating dream

LULW BUT WHAT IF THEYRE JUST PLAYING IT UP FOR THE CLOUT

why are y'all freaking out? she's not even that pretty tbh

dreamwassimp

...

"I'm jumping in," Olive announces, staring at the ocean. She looks at George, her long hair swiftly flipping back in the process. "Anyone else?"

"I'm going to stay here. Doing stuff isn't really my thing," George says, trying a smile. He has his phone in his hand as he sits on the stone.

"You don't like doing stuff? What does that even mean?" Clay pushes, smirking. He knows very well that his friend just doesn't want to get into the water with Olive.

"It's just, you know," George trails off.

"The sunset's really pretty over there," Olive adds, pouting at him.

"Well, I'm colourblind so I can barely see it."

Clay laughs to the point of wheezing. Wilbur and I grin, stifling our own laughter.

"Alright," Olive giggles, taking off her shirt and running into the ocean in her bikini. She squeals because of the cold but jumps in anyway.

Fucking hell, she's got balls.

"Are you going in?"

I look next to me to see Clay staring at me expectantly. My robe is on so I'm not as self-conscious about being so close to him.

I shrug. "The water must be freezing."

"Mhm," Clay hums, looking around.

The sunset is actually really pretty. It's gone from a pale pink to this deep orange and purple, the colours swirling together like the sprinkles that I melted onto our cream-topped banana bread.

"Wanna go on a walk?"

I turn to Clay. "Me?"

"Yes. You," he chuckles, standing up. His hands are dug into his pockets and he raises his brows.

"Yeah," I answer, catching Wilbur's eye. He's got that fucking expression again; and George won't stop smiling at the two of us. "Yeah, let's go." I stand up and glare at the two of them.

Clay and I start to walk down the coast. The wind runs like a hand silkily through my hair; the breeze is faint, but it's the right amount of cool.

"I didn't expect Wilbur to be so tall," he remarks suddenly, watching his feet as he walks.

I snort. "Yeah, the guy's a giant."

"You two seem pretty close."

I shrug. "Song-writing brings people closer together. Especially when you're writing about e-girls."

His green eyes glint as golden hour starts to fade. "Fair enough."

"You jealous?" I tease.

"Well, he has got a headstart."

"I wouldn't call it that. People say we give off twin sibling energy. And by people I mean my chat—who are the only people I know."

"He's dating Nihachu, right?" he asks suddenly.

"I can't say."

"Az."

"Maybe. Maybe not. You'll never know," I say, mocking him from before.

He laughs lightly. A tranquil silence falls between us as we listen to the birds chirping and the screams of small children in the far distance. I hear a loud click and flick my head to Clay.

"Are you taking pictures of me?"

"Yes."

"Well, at least tell me so I can pose."

He laughs. "Alright."

I flail my arms around and dance around in circles, grinning to myself. "Get a candid one yet? Am I cute yet?"

"Always," he murmurs, smiling at his phone. He shows me one of the pictures:

I mime putting on some glasses and narrow my eyes at the picture. "My jaw looks weird."

He laughs heartily. "You look cute," he says casually, taking his phone back and taking another long glimpse at the photo.

I glance at him then back to my feet. The sand is seriously soft and it isn't as cold as I thought it was going to be; as golden rays of sunshine live out their final moments, the sand is warm, even. I wonder whether the water is just as warm.

"I'm swimming," he announces.

I flick my head to him to see that he is already taking his shirt off. My gaze can't help but drop to his toned stomach, and I clench my jaw to keep it from dropping. What the fu--

"Come on," he urges in a low voice, running his eyes up and down me for a quick moment.

And that's all it takes for me to drop my robe and run to the water. Clay laughs, following after me.

"Oh, Aspeeeeen," he teases, growing closer by the second.

"Fuck your long legs."

He manages to tackle me, putting his hands on my waist and hoisting me up into the air. He flips me so I'm in front of him.

"Clay, don't you dare spin me around like that again. I'll get dizzy."

He grins devilishly and picks me up like a princess. I smack his arm, but to no avail. He spins us around in circles, my legs flying around in the air.

"Clay, what are you--"

But I'm cut off by his laughter and his wheezes, completely entranced by his bright smile. I can't help but smile too. There's something about him when he's happy that is so contagious.

He catches my stare and I decidedly don't look away. When I get flustered, everything starts to fall apart. In my experience, being bold is what really works with this guy.

"They'll see us," he murmurs, glancing down at my lips.

I look over his shoulder to see that we're not too far away from them. Wilbur and George look like they're playing something together on their phones and Olive has found the company of some other guys in the water. Even though they all seem distracted, is it worth it?

"It's not worth it, is it?" I whisper, pulling my hands away from his chest.

So much for being bold.

He sucks in a breath, looking away from me. "Maybe we should go out."

My eyes widen. "You want to go out?"

"No, I mean," he says, his cheeks tinting pink, "let's get out of the ocean. It's getting cold."

Now it is.

"Right," I mutter, letting him put me back down. My legs immediately wobble from the impact of the freezing water. As Clay starts to walk to the shore, I quickly splash the cold water on my cheeks, in hope that it will suppress the oncoming blush.

Hold on.

Just then, was it me that cucked him or was it him that cucked me? Who decided not to kiss the other just then? Who just got rejected?

Either way, I'm a little disappointed.

I make my way back to the shore, slowly but surely thanks to my not-as-tall-as-the-boys height, and find my robe. I run it through my hair, turning it damp.

"How was the walk?" George asks me when I walk past, raising his brows up and down suggestively.

"It was quaint," I say simply. I don't really know how it was.

I ignore Wilbur's smirk. He has a camera in his hand. I didn't know that.

"Anyway, I'm going to the loo to sort out the mascara-under-my-eyes situation. Be right back."

I find the nearest bathroom and wipe my eyebags as thoroughly as I can using the cold water. The mascara stain is deep, but it improves the more I dab it over.

When I'm done, I dry my hair as much as I can with my robe—I didn't bring a towel—and fling it over my shoulder. I open the door to leave, only to be greeted with a strange sight.

Olive with her hand on Clay's chest.

She giggles. He merely stares at her lowering hand.

"What are you—"

My initial reaction is ew. Because, ew. My second reaction is to narrow my eyes at that because the ewness has started from Olive.

"Az," Olive exclaims, grinning at me. "Today's been such a great day. I didn't get to chat much to George, but I did meet this other guy. His name's Nate."

I zone out as she explains the rest, keeping my eyes on Clay.

...

I flop down next to Wilbur.

Clay, George and Olive have gone off to get some latenight drinks. Now Wilbur's half on his phone and half glancing up at me. The glancing starts to get on my nerves so I ask him straight off the bat.

"What is it?"

"You like him, don't you?"

My mind goes blank for a second.

My cheeks start to grow hotter.

"What?" I say, but it comes out like a squeak.

"Clay. You like him." He studies me, his eyes narrowed. It's like he's staring into my fucking soul. I don't know how anyone can say that Wilbur and I radiate twin sibling energy when he's an intimidating monster.

"I do not," I deny half-heartedly, taking out my phone.

Great. Olive's photo has got even more retweets. I bet everyone in heaven has got enough service to see this fucking photo. Mum, you seeing this?

"Here," Wilbur says simply, handing me his camera. He eyes me suspiciously as I look at what he's trying to show me.

It's a picture of me and Clay. He's holding me up so that our faces are just inches apart, and my legs are kicked back. The dark silhouette of us in front of the vivid colours of the background gives me a relief; you can't see my smile nor any of the other emotions going through my facial expressions.

Before I can comment on the picture, Wilbur takes his camera back and flicks through the other photos. "Don't even think about being jealous of that girl."

I scrunch my face up at him. "You saw that?"

He catches my look and nods. "I see everything."

Everyone arrives back with some drinks. Wilbur and I both have Sprite because, well, it's Sprite. There's also some coffee which I know I'll down later. Olive decides to drink some beer; Clay and George do too, and they're laughing about who-knows-what in the corner.

I can't take my eyes off of him.

Eventually I make my way to the bathroom to get changed. It nears the time that we're supposed to be on the train and I've got to look somewhat presentable.

"Hey," Olive says as she enters the bathroom with me.

"Hey," I say curtly, organising my bag.

"Sorry about before," she rushes out, giggling. You can tell she's had a few drinks. "About the Clay thing. I tripped and—"

I freeze at the way she calls him by his name. "I know you made a move on him, Olive. No point denying it."

"He's just a guy," she says. "I don't know what he told you—"

"And I think I've had enough of this."

"What do you mean?"

There's a long silence.

"You're really ruining our friendship over some guy?" she snarls.

"Wow, so you know what I'm talking about. Must have seen this coming."

"You're being so selfish though..." she grumbles. "I can't believe you'd pick a guy over me."

"Olive, it's not about a guy," I laugh shortly. "I think our friendship never really existed in the first place and that I was so desperate for a normal friend that I let go of every unfriendly thing you did."

"And what did I do?" she snaps. She tries to calm herself. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you liked him that much—"

"Stop apologising if you don't mean it," I interrupt, holding my forehead in my hand. "I think you know what you've been doing."

There is another long silence.

All of a sudden, she scoffs and starts stuffing all of her things into her bag. "Fine," she snaps, zipping it up and flinging it over her shoulder. "I'm just going to go home then."

I make a last minute decision, not wanting to be on the same train as her. "I think I'm going to stay here tonight."

She scoffs and shoves my shoulder before she leaves.

Not dramatic at all.

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