chi

Though you know him well, you know he's grown tired of this trip. Nothing of a result of you, nor his brother, simply the fact that he could no longer take the heat. He had burnt a fair bit this week, his shoulders a shade of red that surely worried you. It's those very english genes of his.

You're all on the a near desolate, hidden beach set up under an umbrella. Mandy sits at the end of your lounger, her attention locked on the mechanics of your sunglasses — her focus opposing yours. You study the back of your husband, stifling a smile as you stare at the phallic shape his brother had branded onto him with suncream earlier this week.

"What?" Tangerine asks, feeling the weight of your eyes on him. He peers over his shoulder to look at you behind him, salted, beach curls framing his face in the most perfect of ways. "What's so funny?"

You stiffen your face, and straighten your lips. "Huh?"

"Ha," he laughs sarcastically. "D'you find that massive nob on my back amusing or something?"

"We have young ears present," you scold, eyeing your daughter who has since moved on to chewing at the corners of her armbands. "What'd we agree about using that word?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. The pasty white willy on my back," he exaggerates dramatically, eyes theatrical with their movement. 

You chew on the inners of your cheeks so as not to acknowledge the amusement you found in his rewording. "That's better, thank you." 

Tangerine turns his attention away and to his daughter, eyes leaving yours as they grow in further adoration at the spitting image of him that sits between your knees. "Why is your mummy always telling me off, huh, Mands?" he questions her, face playful to match that of your daughters. 

"You can't bad mouth me to our kid. That's not how that works."

"Yeah well, I'm sweaty and annoyed, I can say whatever I want," he picks Mandy up and settles her on one of his knee, propping her up as he wipes in the suncream you had not long applied. "Can't I, poppet?" he coos at her. 

Though Mandy turns to look back at you, and so you decide to speak to your husband through her. Just like he did a moment ago, only you're allowed to do such a thing — your body made her. That gives you the right, you believe.

"Looks like daddy's sleeping on the sofa tonight," your voice soft and playful. "Ain't that right, munchkin?"

The sunhat nearly covers the top half of her face, but still she giggles, finding entertainment your tone.

You scrunch your nose at her as you smile, giving her an enthused nod. "That's right," you turn to meet the displeased face of your husband and shrug playfully. "You can't argue with that face, love."

"Yeah, well," Tangerine scoffs, and shakes his head — trying to get the last word, only he had nothing to say.

Fortunately for himself, Lemon has begun to make his way over to you all from his extensive time in the sea — doughnut floatie around his hips, exotic and neon tropical shorts sat beneath. His taste far brighter than his brotherly counterpart of blacks and navies.

"Why aren't you fuckers in the sea?" he calls out, hands either side of his mouth as if to amply his already booming voice. 

Tangerine sets Mandy aside, placing her on the sand in front of a shovel and bucket. "You'll get a slap for that," Tangerine warns, gesturing back to you with his thumb. 

When Lemon finally reaches you all, he stops just beside his brother, standing over him almost menacingly. He taunts him for a moment, extending his dripping arm to hang over his brother — droplets of salt water falling from his fingers and atop Tan's head. Lemon then goes with his thoughts of impulse and shakes himself, flicking cold specks of water over his very burnt, very cranky brother.

Though your husband decides against retaliation and rejects a reaction — he's simply in no mood with the sun behaving the way that it is today. 

Lemon instead chooses to prod, quite literally. He pokes at his brother's burns and snickers, finding humour in the drawing on Tangerine's back he's since forgotten. "How you liking that dick? Bet you're not used to having such a massive nob, hm?

You knew better than to react, knew it best to keep out of brotherly bickering; especially with these two. You instead reach into the cooler at your side and pull out a few drinks and sandwiches that you had prepared before leaving this morning. Food was a good deflection, you thought, rather, you hoped. 

And so you pass around tin-foiled baguettes, handing them to either brother with contents of their preferred fillings. Like you'd planned it, they grow quiet — the squabbling ceasing as you all enjoy your lunch to the sounds of lapping waves. 

⎯ ☆ ⎯

That summer, he didn’t look like that same dirty little kid your momma warned you about. He looked…Grown up. All tan skin and lean muscle and golden blond hair. Even from a distance you could see that he was taller than you now. He looked like Zach Morris. You never noticed, until you watched him from your deck chair in early June, that he was cute.

And of course your friends noticed you oogling at him over the edge of your sunglasses, slushie straw dangling from your lips as you watched the pool water glitter off his abs.

“Oh, my God, you are so staring at Court Gentry!” your friend hissed, swatting at your bare thigh.

Your gaze snapped over to her with a glare. “I was not!”

“Were too! Pretty sure the entire pool could see you making heart eyes at him.”

“I was not making heart eyes,” you argued lighheartedly before easing back into your chair and taking another sip of your slushy with a grin, eyes already trained on Court again. “There’s nothing wrong with admiring the male physique.” 

All of your friends giggled, including yourself. But the real funny part, which you wouldn’t know until much later, was that Court knew that you were looking at him. Enjoyed it even. Showed off a little by doing a backflips off the diving board and looking out of the corner of his eye to see if you smiled or not. You usually did. He always thought you were beautiful, from the moment he first laid eyes on you struggling to roller skate down your gravel street. Colt thought it was gross. But Court really couldn’t help himself. 

He’d been in love with you since he was eight.

It wasn’t until June was nearly over that you would finally talk to Court Gentry, after weeks of nonchallantly staring at him, convinced that your sunglasses hid that fact from him. 

The both of you wished it was under better circumstances.

You were leaving the pool for the day, sunburnt and excited about your momma’s lasagna. There was no one else in the shower room, which you were thankful for. Even though it was for girls only, it still put you on edge that there was only a thin curtain between you and everyone seeing you naked. Your bikini that you loved so much still on, you rinsed off under the shower. Chlorine was the smell of the summer, almost like teenage perfume, but your momma wanted you clean before you stepped foot in her house.

What you didn’t know, however, was that a group of boys followed you inside. Just wanting to get a peak. Just wanting to have some fun. Just boys being boys. But Court watched them shuffle inside, all of them snickering to one another, with eyes narrowed and fists clenched. He knew you were in there, had watched you go with disappointment. He had only just gotten to the pool after his shift.

But now, he was pulling himself up and out of the pool with a grimace. 

“Stay here, alright?” he told Colt, who was still clinging to the wall like Spider-Man.

He pushed up his goggles and cocked his head at his brother. “Why?”

“I gotta take a wizz,” Court lied easily, not tearing his eyes away from the shower room for long. “What? You wanna watch?”

“Gross.” Colt stuck out his tongue then swam off. 

Court made his way to the pool house quickly, swim trunks still dripping and a fury blooming in his chest he knew his dad would be proud of, but his mother would hate. He was just going to tell them to get out, that was all. You didn’t even have to know that he was there. 

He took one step inside the girl’s shower room and his vision turned red. 

Most of the guys were still peeking out from behind the concrete wall that partitioned the entrance from the rest of the room. But one, Trevor Bennet, had you backed up against the farthest wall. He was older than both of you. A junior who would probably never grow up. You looked petrified, holding up your bikini top as Trevor towered over you.

“Come on, sweetheart, I know you want to,” Trevor sneered as he reached out a hand to touch you. 

Court didn’t wait, he stormed further into the room, long strides carrying him quickly, then grabbed Trevor by the shoulder. Trevor didn’t even have time to turn around completely before Court punched him in the face, sending him to the floor with a thud. You didn’t even scream, you just whimpered. Trevor’s nose bled freely down his pretty face.

“Get the fuck out!” Court barked, pointing towards the door. 

Trevor scrambled to his feet and only looked back at you for a moment before running from the room, the rest of his friends scampering behind him. Every guy in town knew better than to mess with a Gentry, especially an angry one. Apples didn’t fall far from trees. His dad would be so proud. Shame rose up in Court like a flood.

Court made sure they were gone before he tore a towel from the nearest hook and held it out to you, eyes trained on the opposite wall. You just stared at him for a moment, wide eyed and lip trembling. Then you took the towel tentatively, wrapping it around yourself to save what was left of your dignity.

Your cheeks burned as you stared down at your feet, tears blurring your vision. You hated Trevor Bennet so much — he had been a nuisance since summer started. Catcalling your friend group and making lewd comments. But you didn’t think he would ever go that far. You wiped furiously at your cheeks, trying to make the evidence of your tears disappear.

“Thank you,” you mumbled as you glanced up at Court quickly before looking back down.

“Yep,” he replied, rocking on his heels and still not looking at you. “You uh — you okay?”

You nodded. “I think so.”

“Good. Well…I’ll just go —” 

He turned towards the door, took a few steps to leave, but your hand shot out to grab hold of his arm. You didn’t even know what you were doing until it was already done. Until your heart was in your throat from panic and your fingers were wrapped around his wrist. Court looked back at you with a furrowed brow and concern swimming in his blue eyes. 

You didn’t know that his eyes were so blue. Like the ocean.

“Please don’t go,” you whispered, “What if they…?”

His skin was so warm.

You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding when he nodded. “Want me to just walk you home?”

“Y-You don’t mind?” you asked, fingers finally slipping from his wrist.

“S’long as you don’t mind my little brother tagging along.”

The corner of your mouth lifted in a smile. “I don’t mind.”

“‘Kay. I gotta go get him.” He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “You gonna be alright? I’ll meet you outside. At the front desk.”

You took a deep breath as you looked around the shower room. A place that was once so safe now riddled with uncertainty. With fear. Trevor pulled you out of that shower. Backed you into that corner. You would never step into the shower room when it was empty again. You shook your head. He was gone now. Court took care of it. Punched him in the face for you. That was something that only happened in movies, in the ones your momma liked to watch and you secretly did too. But there he was, Court Gentry. Standing probably too close and still glistening with pool water. Offering to walk you home. To make you feel safe.

There was more to admire than just the way he looked now.

“Yeah. I’ll be okay.”

You rushed changing into normal clothes, daisy dukes and a cutoff. People filtered in out of the shower room, either to change or use the restroom. Each time you heard a new voice you flinched. Clutched your bag or your clothes tight against your chest. Once you were done, you fled the pool house like there was fire licking at your heels.

Court was waiting for you just outside the front desk, just like he said he would be. He was still wearing his swim trunks, distinctly more dry with his hands shoved in the pockets. He had on a t-shirt with moth holes in the collar, chuck taylors with no socks, and a faded beach towel slung around his neck. His little brother, Colt, was standing not too far off kicking rocks with his arms crossed. He looked just like his older brother, only more chubby cheeked and paler skin. His nose was burnt bright red, bordering on lobster-esque. 

You hurried over to them with a tight smile, bag stapled to your front with your arms like some kind of shield. On the other side of the parking lot was Trevor Bennet and the rest of his friends around the bike rack, he was holding a dilly bar against his face as he glared at you. You at least felt more comfortable with the backpack acting as a barrier between you and the world. And you certainly felt more comfortable in the presence of the boy who came to your rescue. Court was subtle about it, but he was definitely glaring right back at Trevor and his gang. 

You nodded your head towards Colt as you came to a stop in front of them. “He okay?”

“He’s just got his panties in a twist about leaving the pool.” Court shrugged as you began your walk, Colt trailing behind you with a huff. “We weren’t there super long.”

“Oh…Sorry.” You looked over your shoulder at the younger boy, lip between your teeth. Then you called out to him, “Sorry, Colt! S’my fault!” 

He sped up to walk in stride with the two of you with a frown. “No, it’s that dumbass Trevor Bennet’s fault.”

“Language, man!” Court hissed, giving you a sideways look that made you grin.

“What? You say dumbass, like, all the time!” Colt said, cheeks even more red than before. “You called your boss one on the way to the pool!”

“You have a job?” you asked as your grip on your bag loosened, one strap dangling from your hand.

You didn’t know anyone your age that had a job. None of your friends did. You were all too busy enjoying the summer before high school, feeling so adult without any of the responsibility. In some ways, past the first bikini and the lack of parental supervision, you were still just a kid. Playing pretend at being older. But Court wasn’t. He was the same age as you and he had a job. A real one, that paid money. You wondered if it was just for the summer.

Court just shrugged like the revelation didn’t shatter your world view. “Just construction a couple days a week.

“O’Hara?”

“Yep.”

It was the only construction company in town, you didn’t know why you asked. Half the town was employed by O’Hara, half the town was built by O’Hara. 

“My dad works at the quarry; provides limestone for them sometimes.” You smiled up at Court shyly. “He also thinks your boss is a dumbass.”

Court laughed, and it filled you with a pride you wouldn’t understand for a long time. You were on your street before you knew it. Your little shotgun house in sight, as well as the Gentry’s. The gravel crunched under your feet as you came to a stop at the end of your driveway. Your dad’s truck was parked under the carport.

You turned to the Gentry boys with a heat burning your cheeks. “Thanks again. I…”

“We don’t need to talk about it,” Court states with a shrug, hands in his pockets. “What happens at the city pool stays at the city pool.”

“Okay. Yeah — okay.”

He waved with a few fingers and an easy grin that made his ocean eyes sparkle. “See you around, darlin’.”

By early July, the two of you were inseparable. Anytime you ended up at the pool at the same time, usually after a shift, you were together. Watching Colt play with other kids from some deck chairs, talking and sharing a slushie on his dime. Taking turns on the diving board, seeing you could do the most impressive thing. Swimming and splashing one another with giggles and arms around waists. You and Court grew closer with every shared sunscreen bottle, bag of chips, joke, and touch. 

It was the weekend after Independence Day, when it was barely still acceptable to have patriotic decorations still up. The only teens that practically ran the place during those summer months, at least, didn’t care to take them down just yet. Red, white, and blue banners still dangling all over the place, the pair of you sat at the edge of the pool with your feet dangling in the cool water. It was almost dinner time, your momma was going to start worrying soon. 

But you didn’t want to leave Court just yet. Didn’t want to leave that feeling he instilled in your heart just yet.

You sat close. Close enough that your friend group you all but ditched whispered to one another behind palms and giggled about it. Close enough that his thigh pressed against your bare one. Close enough that your elbows knocked together anytime either of you moved. Close enough to mean something.

Colt was playing in the water with another kid. Some game about saving the world or getting to the finish line first. You couldn’t really tell which. The conversation between you and Court had lulled minutes ago, morphing into a comfortable silence that left butterflies where your stomach should be.

Court was wearing sunglasses. Had been since he showed up at the pool that afternoon. Snug up against the bridge of his nose and pushed up at every chance he got. They were practically glued to his face.

You were just trying to be cute. Trying to flirt like you saw in TV shows. With a mischievous grin, you snatched those sunglasses right off of his face and put them on yourself.

You heard Court shout, “Don’t!” way too late. 

By the time you looked up at him curiously, you could see, clear as day, the massive purple thing that was once his left eye. You slipped the sunglasses off, held limply between your fingers in your lap, to see if they were just tricking the light or something. But they weren’t. His eye was swollen shut and angry, black and blue and green around the edges. You swallowed thickly as he turned away from you.

“Court…”

You reached out and touched the top of his cheekbone, where the bruise came to an ugly stop, gently with the tips of your fingers. He flinched away from your touch, staring at his feet as they disappeared into the blue water.

“Who…Did Trevor do that?” you questioned.

“No,” he scoffed. “Trevor’s too much of a piss baby for that.”

“Then who?”

“I really don’t wanna talk about it.”

You cupped his cheek fully then. Turned him to face you with a furrowed brow and a willingness to do anything he asked. It broke something inside his chest to see you looking at him like that. No one looked at him like that. Not anymore. All the sincerity in the world that he probably would never deserve. That he was taught he didn’t deserve.

It just made him all the more in love with you but made him hate himself more.

He was just going to ruin you.

“I just wanna help,” you whispered, so soft over the noise of the pool.

With a shake of his head, Court snatched back his sunglasses and slipped them back on. “You can’t help with this.”

Your hand fell from his face. Your gaze went back towards the water. Good. He didn’t think he could handle anymore of your kindness that you so openly gave.

The two of you were quiet for a while after that. In that silence, out of the corner of your eye, you began to notice things about Court you never had before. It was like a veil was torn from your vision. You felt so stupid for never recognizing any of it before. The almost healed, barely there bruise on his ribs. The scabbed over cut in his hairline. The little raised, perfectly round scars on the top of his knee. How had you not seen? How had you not noticed?

Something inside your chest ached. Ached until it physically hurt. Until you couldn’t take it anymore and you placed your hand on top of his. Threaded your fingers together and squeezed, hoping he knew that you understood. That you were so sorry. That you wanted to flip the world upside down just so he would never hurt again. You leaned into his side, placed your head on his shoulder as you sighed. 

What the hell was a fifteen-year-old girl supposed to do? She couldn’t fight back. She couldn’t save Court and Colt. She couldn’t do anything. But she could hold him. It felt like the only right thing in the world in that moment. Court flipped his hand so he could hold yours completely and squeezed back.

“Why don’t you just leave? You’ve got a job.” you whispered after a while.

He shook his head. “They’d just take Colt away. I’d…I’d never see him again.”

“So…What? You’re just gonna wait until you graduate?”

“That’s been the plan,” he sighed, “When I’m eighteen I can take it to court; become Colt’s legal guardian.”

“Then where’ll you go?”

“Far away from here.”

You didn’t know anyone your age that carried that kind of weight. None of your friends did. You were all too busy enjoying the summer before high school, feeling so adult without any of the responsibility. In some ways, past the first bikini and the lack of parental supervision, you were still just a kid. Playing pretend at being older. But Court wasn’t. He was only fifteen and he carried so much. The abuse. His brother. A job. It wasn’t just the summer. It was his entire life.

His hand was so warm in your own. It already felt like home. It already felt like something more than just getting too close.

“I’ll miss you. When you’re gone,” you said, plainly and honestly.

Court looked down at you, perched on his shoulder, and smiled. “You will?”

“But you’re not leaving just yet…Right?”

“Not yet.”

That summer, you had your first kiss with Court Gentry, sitting on the edge of the pool while the sun went down. That summer, you completely went against your momma’s advice.

You couldn’t stay away from those Gentry boys if you tried.

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thot ★

thot 2 ★

time is of the essence ★

like clockwork ★

seeking vengeance ✧

waiting game ★

ask thot suggestive?