Reclaiming the Sand
Page 13
“I’m parked back there,” Stu mumbled, jerking his thumb toward the parking lot on the other side of Florence’s Portraits.
Well here we go.
I grit my teeth and kept my eyes trained forward as we moved closer to where Flynn was still standing by the storefront window.
Why did he have to be so weird? I thought angrily. Why did he have to stand there, staring at those stupid pictures and ruin my entire night?
Why couldn’t he, just for once, be normal?
Because Flynn Hendrick wasn’t normal.
“Oh my god, Ells, do you know who that is?” Dania asked in an excited whisper, pointing at Flynn who was completely oblivious to our approach.
I pulled her arm down and shushed her.
Shane squinted in Flynn’s direction. “He looks familiar. How do I know that guy?” he asked, his words slurring from the three shots of Jose Cuervo he had consumed earlier.
“That’s Freaky Flynn!” Dania hollered, her voice ringing in the air.
“You’re right! It’s that weird dude from high school. Isn’t he the reason you went to juvie? The one whose…” Shane began just as my fist made contact with his gut. Hard.
“Oomph,” Shane groaned.
“Shut the f**k up,” I growled, not needing any reminders of that messed up night all those years ago.
Flynn finally realized we were there. Dania yelling his name down the street was probably a big giveaway. He looked up and then promptly looked back down. And I was struck again by how little he had changed. Yet there were small differences that appeared to be for the better. If you could look past his awkwardness and general weirdness he was a good-looking guy. He had dark, messy hair, a long straight nose, and a dimple in the center of his chin. And I could never forget the clear, green eyes that were always trained on his feet. Eyes that would never make contact no matter how much you might want them to.
Flynn’s shoulders came up as he tucked his chin into his chest. He looked as though he were trying to fold in on himself. A posture that was familiar and sad at the same time.
He turned his back to us and started walking swiftly down the street.
“Freaky Flynn!” Dania screamed, pulling away from my arm that was holding her up and tried to run after him.
Flynn ignored her.
“Dude, hang on a second!” Shane yelled.
Flynn kept walking.
“I think we need to teach this f**ker some manners,” Stu muttered and I recognized the predatory light in his eyes. It was the same one I glimpsed every time he messed with people in high school. Those people primarily being Flynn Hendrick.
We followed Flynn to the parking lot, Stu calling his name again.
“Hold on, we just want to talk to you!” Stu said. Flynn fumbled with his car keys, keeping his eyes on his hands.
Seeing him again, up close, was like being sucker punched in the jaw. It wasn’t pleasant.
He stirred up memories I didn’t have time to think about. I didn’t have the emotional capacity to allow myself the pain and grief a normal person would have felt.
Because you see, I wasn’t normal either.
We were a perfect, messed up pair, Flynn and I.
We always had been.
Stu put his hand on Flynn’s car door, shutting it just as he was about to pull it open. It felt like we had been transported seven years in the past. The déjà vu was unreal. Here we were, cornering Freaky Flynn, like not a day had passed since we used to throw his book bag to the ground and ripped the pages from his notebooks.
It was like watching a scene from the movie of my life. Only this time Flynn didn’t cower. He still looked extremely uncomfortable, but the Flynn of my memories was a lot meeker. And a lot more volatile.
“I’ve got to go. Move,” Flynn said in that flat, toneless voice I remembered well.
Shane laughed, though it was anything but friendly.
“Whatcha been up to Freaky? I never thought you’d come back to Wellsburg. I thought you had up and left after…”
“Shane!” I barked, cutting him off. Flynn tensed at the sound of my voice. His jaw worked and his hands clasped in front of him as he began to rub them together. He was upset.
“Just wanted to know what he’s been up to. I was trying to be nice,” Shane said, hanging his head like a dog that had been kicked.
Dania watched Flynn in a way I hadn’t seen in a long time. She appeared thoughtful and shrewd. It was a dangerous expression for a girl who thought nothing of tearing others down to make herself feel better.
“You’ve changed a lot Flynn,” she said quietly. Flynn yanked on the door handle but Stu slammed it shut again.
“Move,” Flynn said unemotionally.
“No,” Stu said just as dispassionately.
Stu grabbed Flynn’s keys from his hands and dropped them on the ground. Flynn’s jaw clenched and I could tell that he was getting angry. I had a morbid fascination with wondering how he’d respond. Would he freak out like he used to? Would he hit Stu? Would he throw something?
He rubbed his hands furiously. His fingers working up and down over his skin.
I used to enjoy watching Freaky Flynn go ballistic. It had given me a sick sense of satisfaction to send him over the edge. And when he was finished he would cry, not caring that we stood around and watched him fall apart. We’d laugh at him. Call him names. He had always been an easy target for a group of ass**les like us.
Even when I had gotten to know him and realized there was more to him than the label we had given him, it didn’t stop me. I hated the joy his pain gave me. But it was a power I couldn’t have anywhere else.
Well here we go.
I grit my teeth and kept my eyes trained forward as we moved closer to where Flynn was still standing by the storefront window.
Why did he have to be so weird? I thought angrily. Why did he have to stand there, staring at those stupid pictures and ruin my entire night?
Why couldn’t he, just for once, be normal?
Because Flynn Hendrick wasn’t normal.
“Oh my god, Ells, do you know who that is?” Dania asked in an excited whisper, pointing at Flynn who was completely oblivious to our approach.
I pulled her arm down and shushed her.
Shane squinted in Flynn’s direction. “He looks familiar. How do I know that guy?” he asked, his words slurring from the three shots of Jose Cuervo he had consumed earlier.
“That’s Freaky Flynn!” Dania hollered, her voice ringing in the air.
“You’re right! It’s that weird dude from high school. Isn’t he the reason you went to juvie? The one whose…” Shane began just as my fist made contact with his gut. Hard.
“Oomph,” Shane groaned.
“Shut the f**k up,” I growled, not needing any reminders of that messed up night all those years ago.
Flynn finally realized we were there. Dania yelling his name down the street was probably a big giveaway. He looked up and then promptly looked back down. And I was struck again by how little he had changed. Yet there were small differences that appeared to be for the better. If you could look past his awkwardness and general weirdness he was a good-looking guy. He had dark, messy hair, a long straight nose, and a dimple in the center of his chin. And I could never forget the clear, green eyes that were always trained on his feet. Eyes that would never make contact no matter how much you might want them to.
Flynn’s shoulders came up as he tucked his chin into his chest. He looked as though he were trying to fold in on himself. A posture that was familiar and sad at the same time.
He turned his back to us and started walking swiftly down the street.
“Freaky Flynn!” Dania screamed, pulling away from my arm that was holding her up and tried to run after him.
Flynn ignored her.
“Dude, hang on a second!” Shane yelled.
Flynn kept walking.
“I think we need to teach this f**ker some manners,” Stu muttered and I recognized the predatory light in his eyes. It was the same one I glimpsed every time he messed with people in high school. Those people primarily being Flynn Hendrick.
We followed Flynn to the parking lot, Stu calling his name again.
“Hold on, we just want to talk to you!” Stu said. Flynn fumbled with his car keys, keeping his eyes on his hands.
Seeing him again, up close, was like being sucker punched in the jaw. It wasn’t pleasant.
He stirred up memories I didn’t have time to think about. I didn’t have the emotional capacity to allow myself the pain and grief a normal person would have felt.
Because you see, I wasn’t normal either.
We were a perfect, messed up pair, Flynn and I.
We always had been.
Stu put his hand on Flynn’s car door, shutting it just as he was about to pull it open. It felt like we had been transported seven years in the past. The déjà vu was unreal. Here we were, cornering Freaky Flynn, like not a day had passed since we used to throw his book bag to the ground and ripped the pages from his notebooks.
It was like watching a scene from the movie of my life. Only this time Flynn didn’t cower. He still looked extremely uncomfortable, but the Flynn of my memories was a lot meeker. And a lot more volatile.
“I’ve got to go. Move,” Flynn said in that flat, toneless voice I remembered well.
Shane laughed, though it was anything but friendly.
“Whatcha been up to Freaky? I never thought you’d come back to Wellsburg. I thought you had up and left after…”
“Shane!” I barked, cutting him off. Flynn tensed at the sound of my voice. His jaw worked and his hands clasped in front of him as he began to rub them together. He was upset.
“Just wanted to know what he’s been up to. I was trying to be nice,” Shane said, hanging his head like a dog that had been kicked.
Dania watched Flynn in a way I hadn’t seen in a long time. She appeared thoughtful and shrewd. It was a dangerous expression for a girl who thought nothing of tearing others down to make herself feel better.
“You’ve changed a lot Flynn,” she said quietly. Flynn yanked on the door handle but Stu slammed it shut again.
“Move,” Flynn said unemotionally.
“No,” Stu said just as dispassionately.
Stu grabbed Flynn’s keys from his hands and dropped them on the ground. Flynn’s jaw clenched and I could tell that he was getting angry. I had a morbid fascination with wondering how he’d respond. Would he freak out like he used to? Would he hit Stu? Would he throw something?
He rubbed his hands furiously. His fingers working up and down over his skin.
I used to enjoy watching Freaky Flynn go ballistic. It had given me a sick sense of satisfaction to send him over the edge. And when he was finished he would cry, not caring that we stood around and watched him fall apart. We’d laugh at him. Call him names. He had always been an easy target for a group of ass**les like us.
Even when I had gotten to know him and realized there was more to him than the label we had given him, it didn’t stop me. I hated the joy his pain gave me. But it was a power I couldn’t have anywhere else.
