paused, “is there something less-formal you go by?”
“Daron,” the boy grinned.
“Daron it is,” I nodded.
“He’s new here,” Jonathan explained. “Where was it you’re from again? Somewhere in Florida?”
“Yep, born and bred,” he rocked on his feet and I finally understood the outfit, although the shirt seemed to be a bit much, even for a Florida native.
“This is Lissie,” Jonathan clapped me on the left shoulder and when I cringed, he pulled back. “I’m so sorry! I totally forgot.”
“It’s fine,” I hastily put him at ease, turning back to Daron.
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh nothing,” I waved a hand, “I recently injured my shoulder is all, but it’s pretty much healed.”
“Aw man,” Daron said and I expected him to say more but he remained silent.
“Do you need a hand with that?” I gestured to the cooler and he shifted back as though only just now remembering its existence. “Oh yeah, but it’s kind of heavy.” He glanced at my shoulder again.
“I’ll get it,” Jonathan jumped forward and heaved the cooler out of the trunk before either of us could protest. “Give her something else to carry,” he called over his shoulder; his face already red from straining.
Daron turned back to the trunk and perused its contents for a moment longer before grabbing a stack of towels. “Here you go,” he said and tossed them into my arms.
I grimaced in annoyance.
“If I were you, I’d tell Jonathan the towels are too heavy. Then you can get out of helping,” he winked and the freckles on his nose seemed to sparkle in the growing orange-cast light of the roaring flames.
“I just might do that,” I smiled back and proceeded to slide-step my way down the dune to where Hannah called me over to help set up chairs around the dancing flames. There were roughly fifteen chairs set in a broken semi-circle around the fire. At first, we had placed the chairs within ten feet of the flames, but with the continuing arrival of more and more teens, we soon realized a need for more space. Hannah was meticulous in making sure each chair was moved back five paces, no more, no less. More than once did she correct my work.
Voices clambered all around us, some shouting in greeting while others began to gossip and talk about the latest events. I recognized many of the teens, but there were quite a few I didn’t know. It had been over a year since I had been in school with any of these students, and many of them had changed more than I could imagine.
The thrum of our joined voices rose and fell as people grabbed hotdogs and speared them onto skewers to be roasted over the fire. More than one hotdog caught fire, and each time it happened the failed chef was ridiculed with taunts from across the crackling flames. I found myself smiling at the many faces and the laughter they shared with one another. The whole affair was rather quiet, until Laura and Chelsea showed up, a group of boys in their wake. Someone turned on speakers and the pulsing beat of the music ran over the swaying bodies and shifting feet. Everyone sang loudly, their voices crying into the night and I mouthed along with the words to an old song I had long since forgotten. There were numerous times when a particular melody would ring out and everyone would cheer, leaving me to wonder what was so special about the music. In my year of absence from everyday culture, I had lost track of anything popular—somehow, I didn’t feel as though I had missed anything.
I was snacking on a s’more—the warm stickiness of the marshmallow and chocolate covering my fingers—when Daron came over to stand beside me. “Hey,” I said in greeting, trying to wipe the graham crackers from my mouth.
“What are you doing all the way over here?” he asked, his Southern drawl almost
“Daron,” the boy grinned.
“Daron it is,” I nodded.
“He’s new here,” Jonathan explained. “Where was it you’re from again? Somewhere in Florida?”
“Yep, born and bred,” he rocked on his feet and I finally understood the outfit, although the shirt seemed to be a bit much, even for a Florida native.
“This is Lissie,” Jonathan clapped me on the left shoulder and when I cringed, he pulled back. “I’m so sorry! I totally forgot.”
“It’s fine,” I hastily put him at ease, turning back to Daron.
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh nothing,” I waved a hand, “I recently injured my shoulder is all, but it’s pretty much healed.”
“Aw man,” Daron said and I expected him to say more but he remained silent.
“Do you need a hand with that?” I gestured to the cooler and he shifted back as though only just now remembering its existence. “Oh yeah, but it’s kind of heavy.” He glanced at my shoulder again.
“I’ll get it,” Jonathan jumped forward and heaved the cooler out of the trunk before either of us could protest. “Give her something else to carry,” he called over his shoulder; his face already red from straining.
Daron turned back to the trunk and perused its contents for a moment longer before grabbing a stack of towels. “Here you go,” he said and tossed them into my arms.
I grimaced in annoyance.
“If I were you, I’d tell Jonathan the towels are too heavy. Then you can get out of helping,” he winked and the freckles on his nose seemed to sparkle in the growing orange-cast light of the roaring flames.
“I just might do that,” I smiled back and proceeded to slide-step my way down the dune to where Hannah called me over to help set up chairs around the dancing flames. There were roughly fifteen chairs set in a broken semi-circle around the fire. At first, we had placed the chairs within ten feet of the flames, but with the continuing arrival of more and more teens, we soon realized a need for more space. Hannah was meticulous in making sure each chair was moved back five paces, no more, no less. More than once did she correct my work.
Voices clambered all around us, some shouting in greeting while others began to gossip and talk about the latest events. I recognized many of the teens, but there were quite a few I didn’t know. It had been over a year since I had been in school with any of these students, and many of them had changed more than I could imagine.
The thrum of our joined voices rose and fell as people grabbed hotdogs and speared them onto skewers to be roasted over the fire. More than one hotdog caught fire, and each time it happened the failed chef was ridiculed with taunts from across the crackling flames. I found myself smiling at the many faces and the laughter they shared with one another. The whole affair was rather quiet, until Laura and Chelsea showed up, a group of boys in their wake. Someone turned on speakers and the pulsing beat of the music ran over the swaying bodies and shifting feet. Everyone sang loudly, their voices crying into the night and I mouthed along with the words to an old song I had long since forgotten. There were numerous times when a particular melody would ring out and everyone would cheer, leaving me to wonder what was so special about the music. In my year of absence from everyday culture, I had lost track of anything popular—somehow, I didn’t feel as though I had missed anything.
I was snacking on a s’more—the warm stickiness of the marshmallow and chocolate covering my fingers—when Daron came over to stand beside me. “Hey,” I said in greeting, trying to wipe the graham crackers from my mouth.
“What are you doing all the way over here?” he asked, his Southern drawl almost
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