I met him on the beach. He sat, fully clothed, legs ajar with a cigarette hanging out the side of his mouth, ash dropping sullenly, almost petulantly into the faded crotch of his blue jeans. His eyes were a-glaze, his raybans askew and he hadn’t seem to notice me sitting down beside him.
It was night. Behind us various Reggaeton tunes blared from various speakers, set outside the rows and rows of cocktail shacks at the side of the beach, all selling cheap and strong and just how we liked to drink it. The sky was jet and pinpricked with stars and our night felt as though were stretched before us like the yellow brick road but the thought of it glistened for me like the drool of a savage dog only metres between me and safety. We had been here at this beach for 3 days and it was clear we would be staying for a while longer. Had I known about the length of our stay I would have brought a clean pair of tights. These ones seemed to be falling away at the seams literally and I could see the bruises from our fight this morning, glowing green through the blood red of ladders crisscrossing my sunburnt knees.
Finally, he blinked. I caught a glimpse of the shadow made from the flicker of his lashes upon his cheek and which glowed from the luminance of the clubs and bars of this party town behind us.
"Wanna go back in? There’s a wicked DJ on in Nighshack in a bit?"
His silence answered plain as the sneer on his lips.
"I can’t just leave you here. It’s killing me. Come with me".
Unexpectedly he turned to me.Expectedly, I jumped. "What colour are my eyes?" He asked.
Surprised by the sound of his voice and which I hadn’t heard since he called me a whore this morning after finding me in bed with the boy he had wanted, I hesitated before answering but that was enough for him.
"Leave me alone. I’m going home. You just made up my mind for me. Reality bites".
"Oh come on, don’t be like that! You didn’t give me a chance to explain this morning. I thought we were friends? Friends don’t treat each other like this! Friends don’t leave each other in the middle of a foreign beach, alone and abused…" i knew the last verb would attack him into action.
"Alone and abused! You stupid, stupid cow! Suddenly he grabbed me with both hands (and which were surprisingly cold for the warmth of the night) and he looked into my eyes. I could see the street lamp behind me reflected in the darks of his eyes, but as i stared and i squinted, I couldn’t make out the colour.