Change was fickle. Change did not take feelings or timing into account. Change came when it wished, how it wished, as a slow process or all at once.

Change hit us like a hundred pounds of bricks dropped from a sixteenth floor.

Beau was the first to wake the following morning. He sat at the desk with breakfast; toast with jam. The plate that remained had toast with the edges cut off and a glass of apple juice instead of orange.

“Mom must be feeling extra nice today. She never cuts the edges off for me anymore,” I said. Maybe I shouldn’t have though because Beau’s response had that piece of toast hanging from my mouth in shock.

“I got us breakfast today.” He rummaged around in his pockets. A moment later, a few band-aids and ointment were placed on the table. “For your blisters,” he explained like he was speaking about the damn weather. “Mom gave them to me.”

The temptation to ask if he specifically went to see her in hopes to get that for me was strong. In the end, I couldn’t bring myself to question the truth. I wasn’t sure if I was grateful or confused and a response may only make that worse. They seemed really simple, but the most simple of actions often left the greatest impact.

“Ah, um, thanks,” I said when taking the offered medical supplies.

He hummed. The TV was all that cut through the silence. Noise that drifted in one ear and out the other, nothing more than static in my mind.

“So, are you going off to take more pictures today?” I inquired when we both were ready to leave. Beau slipped the room key into his camera bag.

“I planned to. Why?”

“Just curious.”

Another hum then we went our separate ways. I was a little disappointed; in myself or Beau, I wasn’t so sure.

Our second day at the beach and the skies were very not clear. There was a solemn overcast that left the shore drab, mirroring my own glum thoughts. The once blue sea matched the sky in color, a dirty gray with dark sands. That didn’t stop anyone from enjoying the ocean though.

I frolicked the same as yesterday, but my eyes continuously studied the shoreline for a familiar face. When I caught a glimpse of Beau, he was never looking my way. I told myself I wasn’t disappointed.

Then Aunt Zoey kept her promise. She was disheartened upon discovering the plastic tools brought had broken when in the trunk. Our misfortunes did not deter her from her goal; to build sand castles. In the end, we sat with our parents digging moats and attempting to make a fort.

The one time I accidentally fell on Beau’s rather impressive wall resulted in a glare, nothing more. Our parents were shocked. Mom even asked, “What’s up with you two today?”

“H-Huh?” I sputtered, swiftly sitting upright. Beau quietly put the wall back in order.

“You’re not arguing.”

“And Beau didn’t try to murder you for destroying his magnificent wall,” Uncle David added, smirking at Beau’s dark expression.

“It was an accident.” I nervously laughed.

Our parents gave each other looks, but, seeing as we weren’t fighting, they deemed it alright not to pry. I was relieved because I wasn’t sure what to say. That sentiment lingered throughout the day too, a shared feeling so it seemed. Beau and I never said a word to each other, not even when feeding the seagulls...who ended up stealing my flip flops. That at least got a laugh, one that Beau cut off when catching my attention.

He didn’t help get my flip flops back either. Jerk.

The second day at the beach ended without incident, or perhaps no incident still constituted as an incident. The answer was unclear, as unclear as the growing tension between two that were often the very definition of tension.

Beau and I went to sleep at different times. He was out almost the moment we returned after dinner while I lay awake in bed wondering what the hell was going on.

Were we fighting? Did Beau not believe me? Was he continuing to suspect that I would out him? I didn’t know how to ask or if I should, so I didn’t.

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The following day was better, even if Beau disappeared all morning. After lunch, when I deemed listening to our parents lament over childhood stories to be both boring and detrimental to my health, I decided to head into town for an afternoon snack only to spot Beau at the indoor pool. He was alone. Although I hadn’t originally planned to ever take a dip in the pool, I washed off the sand in our hotel room. I refused to acknowledge that I rushed in hopes that he would still be in the pool by the time I arrived.

He was, and he was confused upon seeing me.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Sunbathing,” I sarcastically replied, tossing my towel on one of the white chairs.

The room was humid and narrow. Windows lined the left wall while a white door led into either the front office or a closet, wasn’t sure, didn’t check. There was only a small pool in the room with warm water. Beau kept to the deep end, which was no more than six feet while I sat on the stone steps. My hair was already sticking to my forehead from the humidity. The intense smell of chlorine assaulted my nostrils.

“Why are you in here?” I asked as if us speaking civilly was a normal occurrence and this wasn’t at all weird. It was very fucking weird. Beau said that without having to actually voice it. His swift once over followed with a twisted upper lip spoke enough.

He shot the question back at me. “Why are you?”

“Our parents were being annoying.”

“And you find me less annoying?”

“That’s a tough choice, but they were getting into the specifics of our conception.”

Beau grimaced.

“So I deemed you a better choice.”

“I’m honored.” He definitely wasn’t.

Just like I wasn’t happy with the way we were acting; the avoidance and the constant questions of what had gone wrong.

My fingers danced over the surface of the water so the touch tickled my skin. He swam back and forth at the deep end. If the situation were any different, I would have laughed at how stupid he looked, teased and poked until he got red in the face from aggravation.

Not that day though. That day, I worked up the courage to ask, “Are you avoiding me?”

He stopped treading water. He fell beneath the surface, sucking in a breath. Choking a bit, he swam closer so that he was standing with the water up to his shoulders.

“W-What?” he coughed.

“Since we...y’know—” I averted my gaze. “Talked, you’ve been acting weird.”

“There’s nothing weird about us not hanging out,” Beau disputed.

Out of my peripheral, I caught his attention shift to the entrance, as if he suspected another to walk in. Perhaps he was hoping someone would so the conversation would come to an end. There was no one but us though.

“True, but we’re stuck on this vacation together.”

“Where we agreed on a truce that is working because there’s distance. Besides—” He tapped the side of his slightly bruised nose. “Last time we hung out, I got hit in the face.”

“On accident!”

“Right, whatever.”

I trudged through the water with thunderous steps and splashes. Jabbing my finger into his chest, I shouted, “You think I have the talent to have aimed that?!”

“Definitely not.”

I bristled at the honest answer. The water may have been warm, but I was fairly certain it was about to boil with how hot I was getting. The saddest part? I wasn’t sure if the heat had to do with what he said or just him in general.

“But I know you wanted to hit me with it,” he dryly accused. “You’ll take any chance you can—”

I dunked him.

Beau broke the surface with quick gasps and a loud curse when I attempted to repeat the dunking. Attempt because he grabbed me by the shoulders to return the favor. I shouted when the water overtook me, managing to swallow a mouthful of gross.

“Asshole!” I hollered afterwards. My feet struggled to swipe his out from under him.

“You started it,” he said. With a firm hold on my wrists, he swung my arms this way and that while I focused on his feet. We stumbled through the water into the deep end where he sunk.

Beau resurfaced with gritted teeth and a strained jaw. “Shut up,” he ordered.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re thinking it.”

“What am I thinking?”

“That you’re taller than me.”

I shrugged, pulling my hands away from him since his grip loosened, and my wrists were tingling. The skin he touched was warmer than the rest. I was definitely only allergic to his bullshit.

“I am taller than you.” I provoked him with a pompous grin of my own. “Guess it isn’t true, eating your vegetables doesn’t really help, Mr. I Eat Salads Even While On Vacation.”

Beau huffed. “Is that seriously the best title you can come up with? Pathetic.”

“Your face is pathetic.”

“Are you blind too?”

“You cocky son of a bitch.”

He splashed water in my face. Obviously, I had to return the favor.

Soon, the pool turned into a wave pool. There were shouts, curses, and taunts thrown with every crash of our arms against the water. We could barely open our eyes with the constant onslaught of attacks; one after the other, the sounds mixing in with laughter that neither of us were willing to acknowledge.

Too bad acknowledging didn’t make the laughter any less real, or the unforeseen affection that came with them.

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