I couldn't get the image of her out of my head. Sitting there in the ocean, laughing as I called her a bitch. Her dark brown hair nearly black as it kissed her freckled shoulders. I need a drink. It's not healthy to have something like that happen in real life.

*******

"hand me the bottle of Jack." I muttered standing next to Lizzy at the bar cart. She started shaking the cocktail shaker right in my face, doing a little dance as she stood there. "Liz, hand me the Jack," she shook her head, blocking my hand from it "No, you need a cocktail. A sugary, horrible for you, fruity cocktail... not some buff drink like Jack... that's for the winter or when you read Jack London books." I sighed as she grabbed another Martini glass, rimming it with salt "What are you making?" she shrugged "I just threw in a bit of stuff," I could feel my stomach turn "Long Island Ice Tea," I whispered, already feeling myself throw up. She hit my arm "For your information it is actually mojitos." that didn't make my stomach feel any better.

I took the overly sugary, overly minty drink and walked outside, knowing I would get a bashing from my brothers. Lizzy of course gave herself a normal glass, but with my Martini glass in hand I felt a little silly walking over to picnic tables where my brothers were playing blackjack.

"Hey kid," Nathan elbowed me as I sat down smiling until he saw my glass. He elbowed my other brother Garret, who then elbowed my other brother Collin, who kicked my other brother Zach, who elbowed my youngest brother, barely old enough to drink Mathew. They all stared at me and I sighed laying my head on the table "Lizzy made me." They started laughing, elbowing each other like it was some big inside joke until Zach and Mathew fell of the bench and started wrestling. I raised my head a little and took a sip of the mojito. Maybe Elizabeth was right.

*********

"Food's on!" my mom sang coming out of the kitchen with a large pot in her hands, dumping it's contents on the newspaper we had laid out. Erin's mom, Brenda followed with another pot in her hand. The pots kept coming, dumping the food on the table until it was completely covered and there was nothing left to do but have the messiest meal of our lives. I'd lost my seat when the wrestling had gotten a bit too out of hand and the mojito was knocked down my shirt. But that was all behind me now. I wanted lobster, and if that means I have to fight someone for it, I will.

Unfortunately that seemed to be most people's mindset.

I reached for one of the last pieces of lobster claw I saw, but as my hand reached for it an arm shot past my shoulder and tried to grab it. As both of our hands grabbed the claw I looked to my left and saw Erin sitting beside me, trying to steal what was mine. "Erin let me have it," I growled and she smirked "oh yes, certainly, because that phrase is just going to make me drop my hand from the lobster I trekked all over town for." I rolled my eyes "I went with you!" she rolled her own eyes and started pulling "you were absolutely no help..." "you dragged me into the ocean." "we're at the beach, water is a hazard." "I have a mojito spilt down my shirt, let me have the lobster." she glanced at my shirt and she frowned "It's going to stain," I shrugged "I want lobster." she let go of the lobster but grabbed my arm and her plate "I can't let it stain.. it's one of the most decent shirts I've seen you wear." she dragged me, my plate, and the lobster inside and into the laundry room.

She was digging around as I ate the lobster claw, thankful I didn't need any tools or I would look like a real monster trying to dig the meat out. Eventually she had a washcloth in her hand and ran it under the sink before attacking my shirt. "That hurts!" she muttered something under her breath after my complaint "you could be a little less rough." she popped a small chunk of potato into her mouth and then continued to scrub my shirt. "Can't I just take it off?" I whined a bit, feeling like a kid again, not really caring at this point because her scrubbing really hurt. "Sure, take it off," I sat my plate down and pulled my shirt off, taking note as her eyes studied my chest. I felt a bit cockier and couldn't help but say a few things "like what you see?" she simply shrugged as we stood in the cramped and dim laundry room "I've never said you aren't attractive Jake, I think your rotten personality outweighs your good looks." well that was a bit of a blow. "Well you know, smoking is a dirty habit... and emptying an ashtray onto the roof is a horrible idea." she glanced up to look at me slightly confused. And then it clicked. She hit me with my shirt "You saw me?" I nodded smirking "nice boobs." she hit me again "of course if you keep up smoking your skin will be all leathery and your voice will come from a machine." she laughed a little, smiling to herself "I wasn't smoking... we used to smoke up there in the attic, and I found a pack, so I lit one, just to get the smell again." "that sounds really stupid." she let out a little giggle "most of the things we do here are stupid... just reliving old memories and fantasies of the good ole days," she looked around and then reached past me, grabbing some sort of stain pen. I moved and bumped into her. Somehow we ended up closer than necessary. Close enough I could have swore I heard her heart beat. Our eyes seemed to lock and a mutual understanding of what was going to happen was transferred through the bat of an eyelash. We both reached for each other, pulling us closer, skin to... shirt. I knocked the hat off her head as I leaned down, realizing just how much shorter she was than me. her arms wrapped around my neck and as if my giraffe like awkwardness was evident she hopped on top of the washer. Her lips touched mine and I could almost see a future together. That scared the shit out of me. But a good kiss is hard to pass up, so I stayed, running my fingers through her salty hair and letting the moment just be that. A moment.