#rio!!!

Clint was complaining about the village. Apparently, Rio had really shorted the athletes on their housing and managed to make the place nearly unlivable; there was no wifi and their rooms looked liked pig pens. Paisley felt horrible for him truly, but she wasn’t the one to talk —thanks to the fact she was laying on the beach and listening to the waves wash against the sand. There were children giggling a little ways away, and the sand felt soft below her. Even the sun felt nice against her skin, leaving Paisley with a calm feeling as Clint continued to rattle on about how horrible the village was.

“It’s like they don’t even care,” he scoffed. “It’s not like they even wanted it here, so why don’t they just give the Olympics to someone who can actually sustain themselves…”

“Because it’s not just for the five big countries?” Paisley piped in. Her opinion clearly wasn’t appreciated, because Clint chuckled in response. “Okay, so maybe they shouldn’t have picked a city who was already crippled from the World Cup.”

“Yeah. They could have picked, like, Hungary.”

Paisley chuckled. “Is that because you really want to go back to Budapest?”

She felt a light tossing of sand on her legs, and frowned. He did not just throw that on her. There could have been a crab in that and she wouldn’t have known! However, she took his response as an endorsement to her thoughts. That was good enough for Pai. “Speaking of romantic getaways — how’s the girlfriend?”

“Oh, now you want to know about Laura?” For the longest time, Paisley could have cared less about his girlfriend. He would say “the L word” and she would tune out. Maybe think about her next recital. However, in recent months he had gotten truly serious about the girl. Even thought about proposing after the Olympics. (That wasn’t Paisley’s area of expertise, so she pushed him towards some of his married friends: the few that he had.) “She’s doing good. On her way out here actually. Had to get time off from the daycare to make it.”

“I can’t believe that woman actually enjoys children.”

“I can’t believe you don’t.”

“Okay, dad.”

“Hey, don’t wear the name out.”

For a few seconds, their laughter mixed with the children’s from down the beach front. Laughing felt weird to Pai’s lungs, and her face. Keeping a smile for so long was extraterrestrial and strange to her face, where it used to be a common occurrence. For someone who screamed at Terrie to move on, Paisley felt like she never would — truly.  

“What about you?”

“What?”

Clint had to do that sometimes: snap Paisley out of whatever funk she was rapidly falling into. He looked over for a second, expanding on his initial thought. “What about you? Anyone special?”

“Oh,” she breathed out. The sound of a certain laugh and the smell only connected to him flashed through her mind for a second — tingling at her senses until she shook her head. “No. Nope.”

Hesitant to push her any farther, Clint was quiet with his next question. “Do you want there to be?”

Before she could even answer the question, there was an assault of sand to borage them and leave one of the two sputtering to cough everything up. “Sorry!” A deep voice laughed, and Clint watched as the younger man turned around. His smile dropped upon spotting them — or maybe he spotted the blind girl and her cane. “Oh, shit.”

Paisley couldn’t place her finger of where she knew the voice from, but she hoped Clint would have a clue. He didn’t. He didn’t have any idea as to why the guy was gawking at Paisley like she was some zoo animal. He was about ready to get up and make the guy leave when he sputtered out her name and something that sounded like a shit ton of apologizes afterwords.

“I didn’t even know you would be here. Definitely didn’t mean to—”

“Quill!” An even deeper voice shouted from across the beach, where a group of guys were waiting; this ‘Quill’ guy gave them the finger and turned back to Paisley.

It seemed to click for Paisley, who shot up like a rod. Clint noted the way she could feel his hand on her leg and how she skirted away a few inches. “Wh-what are you doing in Rio?”

“I could ask you the same thing!” He replied with a dopey smile. It made Clint want to punch it off his face if he continued to make Paisley so flustered. Lucky wasn't here to tell her whether or not he was okay. “I can’t believe you’re here.” He laughed again.

Paisley couldn’t believe it from her end either. She hadn’t heard from Peter since that god-awful party. He had said he would keep in contact with her, but there had been nothing. Somehow, they were meeting again. This couldn’t be some coincidence, right? Her shoulders relaxed from their tense positions, and her hands stopped clutched the sand beneath her towel so much.

Clint looked between the two of them, his eyes landing on this new fellow more than he looked at Paisley. (If he had to call it something, Clint guessed he was sizing the new guy up.) This was a man who Pai had never even mentioned before, and he was supposed to expect that she was already calming down around him?

Paisley smiled back for the first time in their interaction; Peter could just barely see it below the wide brim of her sunhat. Her lips were moving however, as he heard her voice: “I never took you as an Olympic fellow.”

He cocked his head, grinning just as wide as he could. “Really? I thought I seemed like a big karate fan.”

“Oh, I’m sure you are, but that’s not why you came — is it?”  

“Nah, ‘Mora is a pole vaulter.” He explained it easily, causing Clint to look over to him with a sort of amazed expression. So, that was why he looked vaguely familiar. At least it was better than this man being on “America’s Most Wanted”.

“Right!” Paisley sat up with the revelation as she adjusted her hat. It sat a little crooked on her head, but Peter was sure she felt comfortable so he didn’t say anything. “That’s nice of you to come and support her.”

“Well, you’re doing the same thing,” Clint interjected. He felt like he needed to say something or else he would melt into the sand. (Neither Paisley or her friend would notice, and the only way people would even care was when his name was called for training and no one showed up.) “It’s what friends do.”

“Right,” Peter backed him up. The look Clint shot him in return was enough to keep his mouth shut and refraining from doing that again. Peter noted not to talk to this blonde man much, because he was an athlete and didn’t want it to be for something like shotput. Instead, he turned his attention back to Paisley. “You wouldn’t want to come cheer her on, would you?” The other male in the conversation could hear his hesitation, but Paisley seemed to barely notice as she was hesitating herself. It was like watching children flirt. Oh, God. He really was the dad. peter tried to add on something else to the deal by explaining, “You could meet my friends.”

“Would Groot be there?”

“Yeah, Groot will be there.” Peter chuckled.

“Then I’ll be there.”

Thank God Paisley couldn’t see just how stupid the kid looked with a big smile on his face as soon as she agreed. It was like they were the only two on the beach — or at least Peter looked like he only seemed to care that Paisley was. If this kid continued to be stupid, Clint would have to warn Terrie. Oh, who was he kidding? Despite the fact he still loathed her, at least she was getting better about watching out for Paisley. She would be good to watch out for this guy.