My sneakers beat against the pavement; the basketball snug in the palm of my hand. Sweat stuck to my skin. The court was empty save for me. Fellow tourists wandered past, dressed in bathing suits and clicking flip flops. There were kids giggling on the playground across the yard. Their parents sat on the grass or at picnic benches with their lunch. My parents likely weren’t much different on the beach. They asked me to join them, but I couldn’t stand the sight of the color green.

Something was off. But not this. Not basketball. I had been playing since Dad bought me my first basketball when I was four. We had one of those small plastic hoops that I played with for hours. Then I started watching games, perched on the couch with popcorn in hand, shouting at ref’s or admiring the moves of professionals that I could only ever dream of mimicking.

Basketball was familiar. I needed familiar now more than ever.

Rushing down the court. Jumping until my legs ached. Hearing the net. Running after the ball. Hitting the backboard. Then falling on the cool grass, breathing heavy under a blue sky. The game, whether it was against others or only with myself, let my mind ease.

When I stopped moving though, thoughts crept in; Beau and I challenging one another to a match. Walking together to the park. Bickering. Smiling after every shot. Taunting at every reminder of the score. His gaze on me. How much I craved it. How much I told myself I craved it for every reason other than the real one.

Then memories of a bunker by the sea. The sound of the ocean. The warmth between two. The musty scent of rust and sweat. Smooth lips and green; eyes of jade, cool and alluring.

We went to bed like our world hadn’t been flipped upside down by the sea.

I pressed my palms against my eyes. “Damn it.”

My phone rang.

I welcomed the distraction that Anthony gave; “Hey, you’re still alive!”

“Still alive,” I breathed, strumming my fingers against my chest. “What’s up?”

“Just checking in, making sure you aren’t dead in a ditch.”

“Not yet.”

Anthony hesitated. Sometimes he was an annoyance, not because of his quips but due to his uncanny ability to read the room. Even when I was miles away, he sniffed out the issues like a bloodhound.

“Something wrong?” He said more as a statement than a question.

“I’m stuck on vacation with Beau. Everything is wrong.”

Anthony guffawed. “Yeah, I got that, but what happened that got you sounding like you just discovered cookie dough ice cream has been wiped from existence?”

“Don’t even speak such nonsense.” I sat up, twirling the basketball between my parted legs. “I just got into a fight with the jerk again. And this time it was me that said some stupid shit.”

“This time? Don’t you mean all the time?” he teased.

“Screw you.”

“What was the fight about?”

That was a loaded question that had an answer I was struggling to admit to, even when I knew how stupid I was being by avoiding the truth.

“This trip is messing with me,” I said. “Don’t talk to anyone about what I’m going to say, got it?”

“I won’t. I promise.”

And I knew he would keep that promise. Anthony was many things, a total fool at times, but he was loyal. I needed loyal too; a loyal friend to talk to before I went mad. Sanity was being washed away by ocean waves.

“I’ve been thinking about how he’s going to leave when summer ends,” I whispered. “Do I sound like an idiot for lingering on how everything is going to change? We aren’t young enough to believe life will remain the same after graduation anymore so I thought I was fine, but apparently I’m not.”

“That’s understandable,” he says seriously. “You’ve been friends your whole life.”

“Friends? Can you call us that?”

“Yeah, what else would you be? We all know the so-called hatred you have for each other is just a ruse. If you actually hated each other, you wouldn’t hang out at all.”

“Our parents force us to.”

“Do they?” Anthony challenged, but his tone was soft, not meant to antagonize me. “They set up times to hang out. Yeah, maybe a lecture here or there, but if you didn’t actually want to go then they wouldn’t make you. Both of you use your parents as an excuse to go because you’re too stubborn to admit that you like each other.”

“Who said anything about liking each other?!”

“Whoa, calm down.” He chuckled. “Reacting like that makes me a bit suspicious, did something else happen?”

“No!”

A lot had happened. So much in such a short time that catching my breath wasn’t even a possibility. The world I had always known changed in less than a week.

“Ok, ok,” he speaks calmly, like a parent trying to calm their crying child. “I meant you two are too stubborn to admit you’re friends. When he gets sick, you find some dumb reason to go over and visit him. When you go off and do something stupid, he follows you to make sure you’re ok—”

Memories of the lighthouse returned. Beau followed me down the beaten path, lecturing me about getting hurt. He had done it before, done it all my life. When I wrecked my bike, he was there to lecture me for going too fast. When I sprained my ankle, he was there to make sure I didn’t make it worse by continuing to practice.

He was my shadow and I was his, whether we wanted to admit it or not.

“Someone like that suddenly leaving, it would upset anyone,” Anthony added. “Nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I’m not ashamed.”

“Nothing to be confused about then.”

“I asked him if he’d miss me then stormed off because he hesitated to answer,” I admitted, biting my lip at Anthony’s silence.

“So he did answer?” He hummed. “What did he say?”

“He said he’d miss me the most,” I whispered, surprised he even heard me.

“And now you’re freaking out about it.”

“I’m not freaking out, I’m—”

“Confused, yes, all back to confusion to maintain your pride, ok, moving on!” Anthony bellowed. I envisioned him waving his hand through the air. “What’s the issue with that? Do you not like the idea of him missing you because it goes against your status quo?”

“I hate that you’re so calm about this,” I groaned, rolling onto my stomach. I perched my chin atop the basketball, barely balancing myself.

What I hated more was how on the nose he was. Wasn’t it natural to dislike change? And this was a massive change to something I expected was set in stone.

“You’re only talking to me because I’m the calm one. I should be a therapist.” He snickered.

“You’re too annoying.”

“I’m about to cancel your appointment if you keep this up. I have more pressing clients than you.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Silence enveloped us. My eyes scanned the horizon either in search of Beau or hoping to never find him.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I admit with an audible breath. “I don’t know what I want to do or how I’m meant to feel or what I’m meant to say. I just don’t know.”

Anthony hummed, mulling over my admission for a minute or so. “Well, why don’t you talk to Beau?”

“Huh?”

“About school, about change. You’re alone on vacation. Now is the best time to have a little heart to heart—”

Or lips to lips, apparently.

“Take the opportunity and roll with it. Sometimes the best plan is to not have a plan at all!” He laughed, probably in hopes to diffuse the tension.

“That’s easier said than done.”

“Never said it was easy, but it’s worth a shot now, isn’t it?”

Maybe.

Or maybe I was already lost.