When a family entered the pool their young kids, we silently agreed that it was time to go. We exited the pool, trudging along in our swim trunks to the parking lot.

Beau was heading towards the hotel room when I asked, “Going to split up from me again?”

“What?”

“Are you going to keep avoiding me?” My stomach sank when the worries spilled out in a quiet whisper, “Do you not believe me?”

His eyes widened.

“What I said the other night, or do you think I’ll—” I observed the parking lot to double check that we were alone then questioned, “I’ll out you?”

“No,” he answered with a shift of his weight from one foot to the other. “But it’s not like this change’s anything. You still annoy me.”

That made me quite proud, which had to be obvious based on Beau’s grimace.

“Fine,” he grunted with a dismissive wave towards town. “What do you want to do?”

“Really?” I gaped. “You aren’t going to ditch me?”

“You’ll keep bugging me if I try.”

“Well…” I eyeballed the storefronts and streets, swiftly realizing that I hadn’t an answer. Beau pinched the bridge of his nose when I admitted, “I don’t know what I want to do because I honestly didn’t think I’d get this far.”

Rather than respond to that, he walked away. He flicked his fingers in a signal to follow. I told myself I obeyed out of curiosity, not general happiness to have a promised afternoon together.

We went to the hotel room where Beau kicked on some sneakers, suggesting that I do the same.

“Souvenirs,” he said when retrieving some dry clothes. He stripped off the damp shirt when stepping into the bathroom. I averted my gaze.

How many times had we been in a similar situation? Yet each day it was becoming more and more difficult to ignore the unwelcome sensation of spiraling warmth in the pit of my stomach.

“There’s a few shops nearby. I want to grab something while here.” His voice was muffled from redressing. I hated that I wondered if his muscles were strained, and admittedly a little surprised that the thought made me bite the insides of my cheek.

“You good with that?” he asked, stepping out of the bathroom in dry clothes.

I shoved past him, ignoring the annoyed grunt when I replied, “Yeah, sounds good.”

Once we both were in dry clothes and had our wallets, we headed out. It didn’t take long to find the first shop of interest. There was a store with an open front filled to the brim with an assortment of random souvenirs from shirts to geodes to shark teeth. So much color in a single place, packed from item to item so that there was barely any wall visible beneath the chaos. The place was as crowded as an extreme hoarders house with incredibly thin walkways only wide enough for a single person. An elderly man sat at the single register where postcards and small keychains resided. He smiled when we walked in. I smiled back since Beau wouldn’t.

He didn’t say what he was specifically looking for, if anything, so we mosied from aisle to aisle. The clothes weren’t really of interest. A few shirts Beau inspected that weren’t for him, as if he would be caught in green and blue tie dye.

“You searching for anyone in particular?” I questioned, seeing as I knew his friends from school. Nine times out of ten, a small school meant unwillingly knowing more than your typical social circle. Not to say I could pick out a good souvenir to buy any of them, but I was making conversation.

“No,” he answered. “They’ll get whatever they get. They should be honored if I get them anything.”

I snickered.

I wasn’t sure what to purchase for my friends either. There were a few jars with sand and shells already inside with the beach’s name etched into the surface. Wasn’t sure I wanted to pay ten dollars for that though, so we moved onto the next.

When my interest was caught, it wasn’t for me. There was a wrack of geodes in brown weaved baskets. An amethyst in particular stood out.

“Beau,” I called, holding out the rock for the weirdo.

He scurried through the mess to retrieve the rock with eyes of obvious intrigue. There was a small, but growing quickly, rock collection on his dresser for almost a year now. If he kept it up, he would have to get himself an entire room dedicated to the damn things.

“I don’t get why you like rocks,” I mocked.

“Are you honestly trying to say this doesn’t look cool?” He waved the little geode in front of me, which did look like it was taken straight out of a fantasy book. A crystal that stored magical powers or could shoot laser beams, something of the sort. I chose not to admit that though and only shrugged. He clutched the amethyst in his hand, moving on down the line.

“So...do you plan to tell anyone in college?” I asked out of the blue.

Beau tripped over some boxes on the floor. I gripped the back of his shirt to keep him upright, smirking at the glare he sent over his shoulder. That shoulder brushed against my chest from the crowded halls. My fingers may have lingered in his shirt longer than necessary. I flexed them, willing the warmth away.

“What?” he coughed. He searched the store for any that may be listening. There were a few customers, but they were on the other side of the shop with the apparel. “Why are you bringing that up?”

“Am I not allowed to bring it up?”

“I wouldn’t say you’re not allowed,” he grumbled when bringing out a rectangular box. Inside was a mermaid necklace along with an oyster that the buyer opened afterwards to discover what sort of pearl they would get. There was something to do with colors and shapes meaning certain things, but I didn’t really care. We both grabbed one for our friends. Gwen had a thing for mermaids so it was a neat gift.

“Then are you?” I asked. We moved to the next aisle.

“I don’t know,” Beau mumbled. “Maybe.”

“Are you hoping to have a hot college romance with some buff football dude?”

I was taken aback by the enigmatic smile thrown over his shoulder when repeating in a low, damn near purring, tone, “Maybe.”

There was a sudden twinge in my chest. The smile vanished when he turned away.

My throat was tight when I said, “Have you dated then?”

“You are asking a lot of questions today.” He faced me, one hand gripping the white wracks while the other held his possible purchases for the day. “Since when did you care?”

“I wouldn’t say I care.”

Beau leaned his weight to the right, arms crossed in a similar manner to my mother when scolding me. I would have made mention of it if I didn’t suddenly go off at the mouth, “But I am curious. Our lives have been intertwined since we were kids, y’know.”

I watched him in hopes to see some form of agreement or understanding. I was met with a distant stare that dared me to continue, and when did I ever back down from a challenge? Especially from Beau.

“We aren’t best friends like our parents, but we know way more than some of our friends. I know you like collecting rocks and love photography. I know you have a fear of spiders, even if you refuse to admit it—”

He flushed at the mention of that phobia, but didn’t deny it. Why? Because he literally hurled himself over the back of the couch once when spotting a spider on the coffee table. I almost pissed my pants in laughter that day. Of course, he got me back when discovering my sensitivity to hot food and doused whatever food he could get his hands on in the burning sauce of death.

“You love thriller movies and read probably three books a day. You’re actually not a big fan of video games, and I’m fairly certain you would eat chicken for every meal until the day you died if you could. Now there’s something new with you that I never knew about and…” My voice caught in my throat. My gaze glued itself to the floor.

Where was I heading? What did I plan to say? Even I wasn’t so sure. My heart and mind were having a game of tug of war. Beau wouldn’t give either the chance to win.

“And what?” he provoked, accompanied by an annoyingly calm step forward. I felt his heat; soft breaths fanning over my warming cheeks.

“And nothing,” I grunted, spinning on my heel to head the opposite way.

If he tried to follow, I wasn’t sure. I left him behind to search a few more aisles until my cheeks cooled down. I didn’t even get why they were hot in the first place, or I didn’t want to really think about why. This was an unfamiliar territory for me; not one I never felt, but not one that came as often as one may think and especially not towards Beau…

Although it would be a lie if I said it hadn’t happened before in instances where I was certain to have gone mad. A brief glimpse of skin during a not so friendly basketball match or the accidental brushing of our arms when forced to sit together during family game night. Sometimes there was a look or a touch that lingered. As if Beau was a weed, he rooted himself into my chest. No matter how much I tried to tear those weeds from the cracks, they returned.

I chose to ignore them.

When I finally met back up with him, he was paying at the counter. Neither of us mentioned whatever that was back there, only bought our souvenirs then stepped out onto the sidewalk.

“Let’s keep looking,” he suggested, wandering down the street to whatever destination caught his interest.

I followed quietly until he came to a sudden halt. I nearly ran into him then stumbled back when he dug in one of his bags. Without warning, Beau tossed something at me. I would have yelled at him to be careful, but when spotting the gift, I was left speechless.

“If you’re going to throw it away, do it when I’m not around,” he said, acting as if he didn’t buy me a simple braided black bracelet with a shark tooth dangling from a silver ring.

The idea that he purchased anything without our parents forcing him to was mind boggling. He walked away when I eagerly slipped the bracelet on. There was little adjustment needed until it hugged my wrist.

The weed was growing; overtaking the garden that never welcomed it to begin with.

I rushed after him with a wide grin, as if I somehow forgot the embarrassment of earlier. “Beau, wait up!”

He didn’t wait up.

“Why are you rushing?” I tugged on his arm. He shifted away from me. “Are you embarrassed?”

“Devin.”

“Hmm?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

I did no such thing; not once for the entire afternoon spent meandering through shops, poking fun on crowded streets and sharing laughs with an enemy that didn’t feel so much like an enemy anymore. But not quite a friend either.

A dandelion, maybe; a thing of beauty that was meant to be a menace.