Island Girls (and Boys) by Rachel Hawthorne

Sandpiper.�
    Which meant he saw the Noah and Chelsea show. I was totally embarrassed. I felt a need to explain. �Chelsea and Noah hadn�t seen each other for a while.�
    ï¿½That would be the couple you were with.�
    ï¿½Right. The other girl is Amy. They�re my roommates.�
    ï¿½You live on the island?� he asked.
    I nodded. �My grandparents are lending us their beach house for the summer.�
    ï¿½Cool.�
    ï¿½It really is. I love being on the island.�
    ï¿½Why? It�s hot. Sand gets into everything. Seagulls are forever dropping little surprises on you. The breeze blows constantly.�
    I twisted around and stared at him. �If you don�t like the island, why are you here?�
    ï¿½I do like it. I�m just wondering why you do.�
    How to explain?
    ï¿½The attitude. One summer, I was walking by some shops in the middle of the day with my granddad. We passed a little shop that was closed. The owner had taped a handwritten sign to the door. Closed due to lack of interest. Come back tomorrow.
    ï¿½My granddad told me the guy was on �island time.� He says when you�re on the island you should just let your moods guide you. He doesn�t even wear a watch.�
    ï¿½Island time. I like that. Too bad I�m not on it right now.� He handed my lotion back to me and stood. �I need to hit the shower before I lose my privileges.�
    I looked up at him, feeling disappointed and guilty. Wishing we were both on island time right now. �I�d extend them if I could.�
    ï¿½Don�t worry about it. I understand how business works. I�ll see you around.�
    I hope so , I thought. Of course, I didn�t say it. I just flopped back on the chair, wishing I could do something. If he was here for the showers, and the showers became off limits, would he leave? And if he did, would I care?
    Â 
    ï¿½He�s going into the army at the end of the summer,� I told Mr. P.
    We were inside the marina where he was checking in the order of supplies he�d received. This week was all about gearing up for the summer ahead.
    ï¿½I see,� he murmured.
    ï¿½You were in the army,� I reminded him.
    He looked at me. I�d finally gotten his attention.
    ï¿½What do you want, Jennifer?�
    I didn�t really know.
    ï¿½I thought maybe you could make an exception? Service to our country and all that? I don�t think he can afford to pay ten dollars every day for a shower.�
    ï¿½How long is he staying?�
    ï¿½I�m not sure.�
    He puckered his lips, slipped his finger beneath his cap, and scratched his head. �Okay. I can use extra help through the weekend. If he�s willing to give me a couple of hours each morning on the maintenance crew, then he can use the showers, no charge. If he�s interested, tell him to come talk to me.�
    ï¿½Okay. Thanks!�
    I hurried out of the marina, a towel wrapped around my waist, and my flip-flops flapping. I didn�t have much time left to take a quick shower and get back into uniform. And I still hadn�t eaten the sandwich I�d packed for lunch. I rounded the corner of the main building, heading for Dylan�s tent when I saw him walking from the showers.
    No, he didn�t walk exactly. He prowled. Long, sure strides. A loose-jointed kind of walk, like he wasn�t in any hurry. That he�d get where he wanted to be when he wanted to be there.
    He was in jeans, a T-shirt, and boots. His bike-riding getup, no doubt.
    ï¿½Dylan!� I called and waved.
    He stopped and I rushed over. He was grinning by the time I got there.
    ï¿½Hey, need more lotion put on your back?� he asked.
    I laughed. �No, but thanks anyway. I just wanted to tell you that I talked with the owner.� I told him about Mr. P�s offer.
    ï¿½What would I be doing?� he asked.
    I shrugged.