Fall With Me

leaves, or getting up and slipping away somewhere else, but instead, I stand and walk over.
    “You shouldn’t smoke,” I tell him. I try to keep my tone light, though, friendly, like I’m making a joke and not reprimanding him.
    He turns his head and exhales and I step to the side before the cloud envelopes me.
    “Well, hi there,” he says. “Was wondering where you ran off to.”
    “I thought you were staying in the city.”
    “Just a day trip.”
    “I see.”
    I look down at the top of his head, his hair thick and tousled and black as ink.
    “Sit,” he says. “Keep me company.”
    “No thanks. I was just about to head back.”
    “Please?” He looks up at me. “I wanted to tell you something.”
    I hesitate. “Surely whatever you have to tell me you can say to me when I’m standing up.” Be friendly, I remind myself.
    “Come on,” he says, patting the sand. “I won’t bite, I promise.”
    “Fine,” I say. “For a minute. And you have to put that out, though.” I nod at the cigarette. “It smells awful.”
    “Fair enough.” He takes one more drag and then submerges the cigarette into the sand. “Don’t worry—I’ll bring that with me when I go.”
    “You better.” I dig my toes into the cool sand. “I’m not an uptight bitch, you know,” I say. “Yet for some reason, being around you makes me feel like one.”
    “You just need to loosen up, is all.”
    “Everything was going fine before you showed up.” I think of my mother, I think of the one-year anniversary of my dad’s death that is rapidly approaching. “Actually, it wasn’t fine, but that’s beside the point.”
    He nudges me with his elbow. “You want to talk about it?”
    I laugh. “With you? No.”
    “I’m a good listener.”
    “Sure you are.”
    “Well, if you ever change your mind . . .”
    I look out toward the water, the way the reflection of the moon shimmers on the tops of the waves. “Didn’t you have something you wanted to tell me?”
    “Yes.” He waits until I look at him to begin talking. “I am madly in love with you and want to get married. And have children. We would have beautiful children.”
    “Is it beyond your capacity to have a serious conversation?” I start to get up.
    “Wait,” he says. “I’m sorry. Don’t go. There really is something I want to say, and it’s actually of a serious matter. Semi-serious, anyway.”
    “If it’s not, I’m going to punch you.”
    He grins. “How’d you know I like it rough?”
              I sock him, lightly, on the shoulder. His arm is solid muscle and my hand probably hurts more than his shoulder does.
    “What I wanted to say,” he continues, “is ‘thank you.’ For helping me out that first night. And going along with it when Allison was giving her dad that story. I could tell you were pissed.”
    “Nothing I said would’ve made a bit of difference,” I say. “You made the decision, shacking up with the owners’ daughter. She gets what she wants, and they’re not going to let some employee tell them otherwise.”
    Griffin laughs. “There’s no shacking up going on there, sweetheart, I promise.”
    “Yeah, okay,” I say skeptically. “ Griff .”
    He holds his hands up. “Hey, I’m not saying she isn’t hot. But she’s what—sixteen? Seventeen? All set with the statutory rape charges, thank you very much.”               “Well, you might want to let her in on that, because she certainly seems awfully enamored with you. And honestly? Knowing Allison, you’re probably not even close to being the oldest guy she’s been with.” Okay, so that was something of a cheap shot but whatever.
    He grins. “Are you . . . jealous ?”
    I stand. “Please. Don’t think you’re the first good-looking rich boy I’ve ever met.”
    “So you do have some experience, then.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “Allison said you were kind of a prude.”
    “Oh really?” Definitely don’t feel bad about that cheap shot now. “That’s funny, because Allison doesn’t actually know me. I was involved with a guy who was very much like you, if you want to know the truth, and we broke up because I couldn’t stand him. Because he’s arrogant. And an asshole. All things you’re proving to be as well.” I bite my lip. “I mean, you’re just—”
    “Ouch. So . . . this ex-boyfriend of yours. He a big guy? Think I could take him?”
    “I think I would love to see the two of you battle it out