And Samson. How did he treat the underdogs?
Not everyone who had money was an asshole in my high school, but enough of them were that I think I might have just lumped them all together. Part of me wonders if things would have been different if I would have tried harder. Opened up more. Would I have been accepted?
Maybe the only reason I wasn’t accepted is because I didn’t want to be. It was easier to stay to myself. I had Natalie when I needed her, but she had a cell phone and other friends that kept her busy, so we weren’t inseparable. I can’t even say we were best friends.
I just know that I never did things like this. I never hung out in groups with people. When I was old enough to get a job, I worked as much as I possibly could. So bonfires and cookouts and spending time with people my own age is foreign to me. I’m trying to find a way to be at ease in this crowd, but it’s going to take time. I’ve spent a lot of years becoming the person I am. It’s hard to change who you are in a span of a few days.
There are about eight people around the campfire, but none of them are Samson. He came down and grabbed a burger, but then went back to his house after he ate. The only two I know are Sara and Marcos, but they’re sitting across from me, the fire separating us. I don’t think they know the other people here all that well, either. I heard Marcos ask one of the guys where he’s from.
This must be a beach thing. Hanging out with random people you barely know. Strangers gathering around a fire, asking one another superficial questions until they’re drunk enough to pretend they’ve known each other their whole lives.
I think Sara can tell I’m folding in on myself. She walks over and sits down next to me. Pepper Jack Cheese is lying in the sand next to my chair. Sara looks down at the dog and scratches him on the head.
“Where’d you find this thing?”
“He followed me home earlier.”
“Have you named him yet?”
“Pepper Jack Cheese.”
She looks at me. “Seriously?”
I shrug.
“I kinda like it. We should give him a bath later. We have an outdoor shower on the stilt level.”
“You think your mom would let me keep him?”
“Not in the house, but we could make him a spot outside. She probably won’t even notice, honestly. They’re barely here.”
I’ve noticed that. They both get home late and tend to go to bed soon after. They leave early in the morning. “Why are they gone so much?”
“They both work in Houston. Traffic is terrible, so they eat dinner together in the city on weeknights so they don’t have to fight it. But they take off Fridays during the summer, so they both have three-day weekends.”
“Why do they even bother driving here Monday through Thursday? Isn’t their main house in Houston?”
“My mother would worry about me too much. She’s not as strict as she used to be because I’m almost twenty, but she still wants to know I’m home in bed every night. And she loves the ocean. I think she sleeps better here.”
“Does anyone live in your beach house when it isn’t summer?”
“No, we use it as a rental. We come here for holidays, or a weekend getaway every now and then.” She stops petting Pepper Jack Cheese and looks at me. “Where are you staying when you start classes in August? Are you moving back in with your mother?”
My stomach turns at that question. They all still think I’m going to some community college back in Kentucky. Not to mention I still haven’t told anyone about my mother.
“No. I’ll be—”
Marcos appears and pulls Sara out of her chair before I can finish my sentence. He swoops her up and she squeals and wraps her arms around his neck as he runs her out toward the water. Pepper Jack Cheese stands up and barks because of the commotion.
“It’s okay,” I say, putting my hand on his head. “Lie down.”
He resumes his position in the sand. I stare up at Samson’s house, wondering what he’s doing. Does he have a girl with him? That would explain why he isn’t out here socializing.
I don’t like being out here alone now that Sara and Marcos are in the water. I don’t know any of these other people and they’re really starting to get rowdy. I think I’m the only one not drinking.
I stand up and go for a walk to get away from the group before any of them decide to play spin the bottle or something else just as horrifying. Pepper Jack Cheese follows me.
I’m really starting to like this dog. His loyalty is nice, but his name is way too long. I might just call him P.J.