The girl with warm tawny skin averted her gaze when brushing strands of black hair behind her ear. One of the boys had a flush against beige cheeks, switching his weight from one foot to the other. I wanted to bury Beau’s face in the sand. How the hell did he attract both of them in under a second? Wow, I fucking hated him. The world was cruel and unfair.

“Thanks for letting us join,” I said, gesturing to myself first. “I’m Devin—” I slapped Beau in the stomach. He grunted. “And this is Beau. He’s a bit of an asshole, so I apologize in advance.”

That got a laugh from the group. Jill introduced all of them, apparently the other girl was her older sister, Tara. Johnny and Avi were their friends; all four of them in college so I was right to assume they were around our age. Beau joined Tara and Johnny’s team, which they both were grinning about, while I was with Jill and Avi.

I soon discovered that volleyball on the beach was way more difficult than in gym class. The sand made it hard to maneuver. When I wanted to run for the ball I’d end up slipping and face planting. Each time I got up, Beau was showing something other than apathy; amusement at my suffering. In those moments, I preferred apathy, the freaking ass-clown.

The game had nothing to do with competition, but I couldn’t deny that I was grumbling at the fact that their team was ahead. Beau knew it too. He smirked from the other side of the net, at least until Tara lost her footing. She tripped into Beau, who gripped her shoulders to keep her up right. The way her face lit up should have been funny or maybe even a little endearing, but I was neither laughing or endeared.

“You ok?” Beau asked, which threw me for a loop.

Since when was he the type to care? If that were me, he’d let me fall on my face! Beau wasn’t nice. That went against Beau policy!

“I-I’m fine!” Tara squeaked. She practically threw herself on the other side of the court, or whatever one wanted to call it. “S-Sorry.”

He shrugged then raised a brow at me, probably because I was glaring. Why was I glaring? Because it was Beau; glaring was a natural reaction.

So was wanting to win, the two of us getting competitive and trying to one up the other. Of course I was agitated that the score remained the same, and of course I wanted to do my best to change that. When the ball came onto our side of the court, I didn’t think twice about jumping. Did I know how to spike in a normal gym, let alone on the beach? No. Was I going to try anyways? Yep!

I smacked the ball as hard as I could, mentally cheering that it miraculously cleared the net. However, Beau was close to said net and not expecting a spike from a dumb ass that didn’t know how to spike. One moment he was in front of me; the next he was stumbling away, cursing after being struck in the face.

Beau crouched with a cupped hand over his nose. Johnny was the first to react, hesitantly touching his shoulder. “Shit, are you ok?”

When he stood, there was red staining his pale skin.

“Oh my god, is your nose broken?!” Tara gasped.

He pulled his hand away to reveal a bloody nose. There was more on his palm. He smacked his lips together, likely having got some in his mouth. Then he tilted his head forward again. My heart sank into my stomach. My feet were cemented into the sand that I wished would swallow me whole.

“I don’t think it’s broke,” he grumbled.

I swiftly attempted an apology, “Shit, Beau, I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to do that.”

The only response I got was him leaving. I was quick to follow, apologizing to the others for the commotion without listening to their responses.

“Beau, wait up! You don’t even have the key for the hotel room!”

He kept walking. I ran to our parents, not explaining what happened since Mom would probably give me a bloody nose too for being so stupid. He was waiting by the door when I got there, head still lowered. Once the door opened, he roughly pushed me aside. I would have complained, but it was warranted considering I busted his nose with a volleyball. On accident though, seriously!

Beau hung over the sink, allowing the blood to drip into the water. He splashed some on his face, cleaning the red from his skin. He spat some out, gurgling water to clean out the taste. A towel was now stained. The bleeding had mostly stopped. A bit slipped out of his right nostril that he dabbed away, visceral hatred practically seeping from every word when he growled, “What the fuck was that?”

And my dumb ass somehow thought replying with snark was a good idea, “A volleyball to the nose, I guess.”

The disbelief on his face was almost painful.

“How was I supposed to know you wouldn’t dodge it?!” I hollered when his cold scrutiny became too much. “I said I didn’t mean it, it was obviously an accident!”

“One you’re probably thrilled to have made.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Beau ran a rag under cold water to press to his likely aching nose. “You know damn well what it means.”

“You can’t be serious? We talk shit all the time but that doesn’t mean I actually want to hurt you!”

My admission hung in the air. Beau almost challenged me with a glare; to take it back and admit the truth, but that was the truth. It was the truth that was hidden behind constant jabs and cruel remarks.

If Beau believed me or not, I wasn’t sure. He didn’t ask for an explanation or accuse me of lying, not verbally at least. Once more, I was brushed aside with a shove. My back roughly hit the doorframe when he stepped out of the bathroom to sit on bed.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

He flipped the TV on. “Just go. I have a headache.”

“But—”

“Seriously, Devin. Go.”

I didn’t want to, but I hadn’t the courage to say anything. I quietly left, frowning as the view of Beau sitting alone in bed with a pained scowl was cut off by the door closing behind me.

Although the teams were uneven, I rejoined the others on the beach. Jill invited Beau and I to join them later that night at the small amusement park on the pier. There were some games, rides, food stalls, and a ferris wheel that opened sometime around six. I had been eying it all day. The folks suggested we visit, but if I had people my own age to hang out with, I’d rather go with them. They were leaving the next morning too so more reason to go while they were there.

Beau though? After what happened, who knew what he wanted to do.