“The hell are you doing?”
“What's it look like?” Really now, if he was going to ask bonehead questions...
Risa sighed, finishing the last few letters of the word she was spelling out in the sand. She peered up at the dubious-looking Jack, the full moon hanging low in the sky barely revealing her smirk from the darkness. “I'm writing cryptic things in the sand. Just to fuck with people.”
The man nodded sagely. “Ah. Should have known.”
Taylor's birthday was soon, and his roommate had decided that the man needed a vacation (and so did she). The only problem with this perfect potential getaway with her cute, vaguely twinkish cohabitant was that he, well, had a boyfriend. It would be more than a little difficult to explain the concept of her taking his boyfriend on vacation to this stoic man who always seemed to have a face of mild disapproval set on his features as though it had been chiseled there a long time ago and would stay there for all eternity.
And then, there was the matter of Taylor's older brother.
Risa and Jack, well... It was nigh impossible to explain the sort of anti-relationship that the two had managed to forge through fire. Risa didn't particularly want to be stuck in a room with the man for how ever many days they ended up out of Seattle for, but at the same time she didn't want to be alone with just the roommate she might or might not have a bit of a thing for and his boyfriend of all people, and if the three of them left without Jack she would feel sort of bad. And considering how much the brunette man hung around her and Taylor's apartment already, he may as well be living there too. So it wasn't as if being stuck in a room with him would really be that out of the ordinary.
In fact, the only thing that would really change was the setting.
So she let the older brother in on the plan: a road trip down to the Oregon coast, away from the big cities and the pollution and the sales tax. A couple days down in some thousand-population burg where all the stores closed at nine pm and the main street was not only the highway but was only five-hundred feet from the edge of the beach.
Of course, getting the schedules of four workaholic young Seattleites to coincide for long enough for this magnificent feat to occur was a challenge in and of itself.
Eventually, after getting everyone in on the idea, they had found three days that all four of them could manage to get out of working, by hook or by crook. Risa pulled some strings and brought up some favors, Jack essentially told Fresh Mart that they could go fuck themselves, Taylor had a week off from performing anyway, and Clark did... whatever that man did to get his way. More than likely some sort of stare down along with a quiet reminder that he was the adopted son of the head of the corporation. Risa didn't ask questions, especially when she would rather the stern (and in her opinion, boring as fuck) man didn't even come along at all. The fact that he was invading her unofficial territory wasn't helping matters.
Then, of course, there was finding a place that was not only affordable but actually had vacancies. This, given the fact that it was the middle of August and peak season for the coast tourists, had proven to be no easy feat. The fact that the group consisted of one girl, two brothers and two men who were dating, made the whole ordeal even more difficult.
Naturally, the only place that had availabilities for both nights only had one double room, meaning that the four of them would be stuck together, two to a bed.
In all honesty this wasn't that big of a deal, but to Risa, the notion of sleeping in the same room with Taylor and Clark was more than a little off-putting. She didn't mind sharing a bed, even if it was with Jack; if push came to shove she could always just sleep in the tub in the bathroom. Or make him. The boys were probably more weirded out by the notion of Jack and Risa sharing than she actually was (or just the idea of sharing a room with heterosexuals who could potentially do things – ew – regardless of the fact that they claimed to hate each other), but it wasn't as though it was the first time they had slept in the same bed.
The trip took nearly five hours in the faithful little VW Jetta stuffed full of people and suitcases, and not a second was wasted in unpacking the car and dragging the contents, both animate and otherwise, up the stairs and into the little room, after checking in and getting the key.
Almost as soon as they had gotten unpacked, Taylor and Clark seemed to have disappeared. Risa knew this was going to happen, given that, well, who else would you want to spend your vacation with if not your lover? Even that revelation didn't do much to ease the stings of betrayal and jealousy, so she tried to force it out of her head by inspecting the room a little further. It was nice enough, she supposed; the bed was bigger than her own and there would be enough room to share with someone else with space to spare, even including the difference in frame size between her and Jack.
Well, whatever the other two were doing, Risa needed food. Not to mention the fact that there was a whole thousand-foot stretch of main road and shops to explore, along with the seemingly endless stretch of beach. But, she wanted to save that part for later.
She flopped on her side of the bed and looked over at the remaining male in the room.
“Got anything planned for the rest of the night?”
He looked at her like she was stupid. “Oh yeah, while you were prowling around like a caged tiger inspecting every inch of the room, I was waiving my handkerchief off the balcony and collecting numbers and invitations to parties in this giant bustling metropolis. Why?”
She glared at him. “Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to find some food with me. But, obviously you have other plans...”
The brunette man shrugged. “Eh. They can wait, I suppose. The party don't start 'til I walk i-” he stopped himself mid-sentence: quoting Kesha was unacceptable at any time, and especially while sober. “'til I'm there, anyway.”
“Sure thing,” Risa murmured, stifling a giggle at the man's near pop-reference. “I didn't bring any food, so we should try to find a little store or something, too.”
Honestly, she was glad he was coming with. Even in a town as small as this one, where crime was likely nonexistent, she didn't particularly like walking around alone. What was the point of being out on vacation with her friends (and Clark) if she didn't spend any time with them? She grabbed her wallet and stuck it in her back pocket, considering leaving a note for the other males, but deciding that if they couldn't be bothered to say where they were going, she wouldn't bother telling them, either.
“Do you want to eat out somewhere, or just buy groceries and eat back here?” Jack asked, pulling on a sweatshirt despite his shorts and flip-flops and waiting for her by the door.
Risa shrugged. “There was that pizza place we passed when we pulled in, if nothing else, but let's take a look around and see what's here, yeah?”
She smiled faintly at him, made sure the door to the room was locked, and closed it behind her.
It quickly became apparent that not only were there maybe twenty-five shops total, but most of them were on the east side of the road. It made sense when she thought about it, considering the west side of the highway was practically already on the beach, and what solid ground was available was taken up by motels, condos, and 'sea cottages'. The number of new-looking condominiums on sale was staggering; the housing bubble had burst even down in this tiny community, perhaps even worse than in the big cities.
Risa walked along the side of the road, hands in her pockets and eyes wide, oogling everything from the new buildings blocking the view of the beach to the smoked-seafood vendors she couldn't eat at.
“They should just rename this place 'The Middle Of Nowhere With a View',” Jack murmured appreciatively, insisting on walking between her and the road, despite the rather infrequent traffic.
She giggled, despite herself. “Only in some places, though. I think that's the only reason we got our room for as cheap as we did – they built condos in between us and the beach and so they can't charge for the view anymore.”
“Yeah, because that twenty-five feet you have to walk to actually get onto the beach itself is so rough,” he added, rolling his eyes.
“People are retarded?” she asked, looking up at him and waggling her eyebrows.
“People are retarded,” he echoed appreciatively.
Sometimes, she thought that was the only thing they could agree on.
They had managed to arrive at their destination so late that it seemed as though everything was already closed. That was another problem with tiny towns like this – everything seemed to be closed by 8pm. It was only when they had gotten into the sole grocery-type place in the city that she realized that there was no way in hell she would be able to maintain her vegan diet while she was here.
“Shit,” she murmured, berating herself for being stupid enough to not take that into consideration. It really was The Middle Of Nowhere With A View; how did she expect to eat out here if she didn't bring the food herself?
Surprisingly enough, the store did carry a single brand of veggie burger; but she would have bet anyone a million dollars that if she had asked around for soy milk when they were less than twenty miles from the Tillamook Cheese Factory that she would either be laughed out of the store or stared at as though she was sprouting a second head from her neck.
She sighed, shaking her head a little. She refused to starve herself while she was here; she would just have to deal with the dairy until she got home.
Risa had lost Jack somewhere in the store while she was lamenting the hiatus of her animal-friendly diet; she found him a moment later oogling the meat case as though the chicken breasts were mammalian and not poultry.
“Gonna take that back to the room and microwave it?” she asked, peering over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow.
“Psh...” was his non-answer as he rolled his eyes and straightened up, looking back at her. “Find anything?”
She shrugged, yet again. “I say we backtrack and look at one of those restaurants again. I'm not going to be able to eat anything here at all if I keep up the vegan thing.”
Jack smirked. “Should I order us a couple corn dogs for the road, then?”
She shot him a death-glare, though much to the woman's chagrin he didn't drop dead on the spot. Really, she needed to work on that. “I'm still not eating any meat.”
“Oh, I bet you'll be changing your tune tonight, when it's the middle of the night and you're cold and snuggling up to me. 'Oh Jack, oh Jack, I want you, let me have some of your meat-stick...'”
Risa laughed derisively, a short, bark-like noise, pointing to a jar of pepperoni sticks set on the counter of the sole check-out stand. “I think one of those would be more satisfying.”
Jack scoffed. “That's what you're used to dealing with? No wonder you're such a bitch all the time. Sorry, your dates must have been horrible.”
The woman shook her head. “Yeah, we're done here.”
“Psh, you just don't want to admit you want me for my hot bod.”
“Oh yeah, you're spot on, there. I think most women would kill themselves before they ever admitted to something like that.”
“That's not what the hot Swedish twins told me last niiiight...”
“Last night you were passed out on my couch by 11:30, and the only pussy on your face had whiskers and a tail. Didn't I say we were done with this?” Really, his listening skills were on par with that yippy dog that lived three units down that she was tempted to chuck off the building and watch splat onto the asphalt.
It was his turn to shrug. “Just because you're a bitch doesn't mean every chick in the world is. Some of them actually, dare I say it, enjoy life.”
He really wasn't going to let this go, was he? “I enjoy life. I just don't enjoy you being an idiot.” Well... That wasn't entirely true. She did quite enjoy when he was an idiot, as long as it was constrained to him making a fool of himself and didn't involve her doing anything besides possibly pointing and laughing from the sidelines.
“Coulda fooled me,” he muttered, shooting a last longing glance at the meat case before following her out the door.
They meandered out of the parking lot, snickering at the tsunami evacuation warning signs and taking a look back up the strip of road they had walked down. “There's ice cream, candy, more ice cream, a bar, and some Mexican. Take your pick,” she said, stuffing her hands into her jean pockets and looking up at the head-taller male.
“I'm always good with Mexican, especially if the waitress is hot,” he replied, nodding slightly.
“I don't think they employ a lot of Swedes at Mexican restaurants outside of maybe Ballard,” Risa pointed out with a smirk.
“Yeah, but do you really think the Mexican restaurant is actually run by Mexicans here? All two of them that live in this whitewashed little burg?”
The man had a point.
The pair strolled into the little restaurant, only realizing just how small it was once they were inside. There were maybe eight tables in the place, and a single (unfortunately for Jack) male waiter was bustling around, attending the needs of the snobby tourists in Seaside sweatshirts mispronouncing the names of the plates. Jack and Risa exchanged glances, the usual oh god we're surrounded by idiots look that was a knowing nod and a slight eyeroll. It was right about then that the waiter finished tending the other patrons and had gotten to welcoming them.
It was also right about then that Risa noticed the man was hot. The town was too small for any of the stores to really require a strict dress code, so the server was dressed in a black short-sleeved button-down shirt and dark blue jeans, and had that cute boyish smile that was probably infinitely popular with the ladies.
“Just the two of you, then?” the waiter asked, flashing that goddamn smile at the redheaded woman.
“Um...” Always the queen of eloquent replies, she was. It took an elbow to her side from the exasperated man on her left to get her to snap out of her sexy-induced stupor. “Yeah... yeah. Two, please.”
The server sat them at a little table in the corner with a smile and a wink and a promise to be with them shortly, while Risa gazed after the man dreamily and Jack glared. First at the man, and then at her.
“What the hell?”
“Hmm?” Once again, it took her a minute to get back to reality.
“Why don't you just ask him if you can bang him in the walk-in fridge really fast?”
A flurry of dumb responses rushed into her head. Do you think this place is big enough for a walk-in fridge? I'm not nearly drunk enough for that... Do you think he'd say yes? She took a deep breath and shook them off. “What? I'm just looking, there's no law against that,” she retorted evenly, breaking her gaze from the man's adorable butt and looking down at the menu. “Since when do you care, anyway?”
“If you're just going to sit here and make googly eyes at this dude all night, I can go next door and hit on with some drunk tourist chick. Preferably blonde and with a strong Scandinavian accent.” The man shook his head slightly, going down the list of plates on the dinner menu with his finger and not looking up. “If I wanted to see awkward and vaguely disturbing flirting, I'd just watch my brother and the Princess.”
She ignored his jab, picking the menu up and squinting at the printed letters so they would focus properly. “What are you going to have?” She asked diplomatically in an attempt to get him off the subject and onto one that wasn't as likely to end up in a bitch-fest.
He looked up, apparently recognizing her attempt at a cease-fire. “Chicken enchiladas, I think, not that that's going to help you any. Why?”
She shook her head slightly. “I dunno. Still trying to decide what I want, I guess.”
While she had been browsing, the waiter had returned to their table with two glasses and a pitcher of water, pouring a glass for each of them, before setting a basket of warm tortilla chips and a bowl of salsa in the middle of the table. “Is there anything I could get either of you to drink besides water? In addition to food we also offer a full bar, though I'll need to see your IDs if you order anything alcoholic.” Despite the fact that the waiter was probably one of the whitest men she had ever seen, she couldn't help but imagine him speaking with a Mexican accent and tossing random Spanish words like agua into his speech.
Risa flipped the menu over to take a look at the booze offered, but in what had to be one of the rarest occurrences known to man, she didn't feel like drinking at the moment. “No, I think water's fine for now,” she replied, looking up at the man and flashing him a smile.
Apparently she was not the only one who felt this way, as Jack echoed her sentiments to the waiter and returned to the food side of the menu. The man nodded, winked, and was off again, presumably to steal the hearts of all the other women in the place. He probably had more ones than a stripper at the end of the night from all the tips left.
“Wow,” Risa murmured, despite herself, “We're actually electing to stay sober? The world's gonna implode.”
“I know right,” he replied in a vaguely mocking manner; Risa half expected him to blow a bright pink bubble from his lips while curling a piece of hair around his finger. Did she really sound like that, or was he just continuing on with his 'you're-acting-like-a-stupid-highschooler' shtick? “I'm surprised we haven't already caused a rift in space-time or something equally nerdy and obtuse.”
“Obtuse?” she questioned, raising an eyebrow. “It's good to know that theater degree came with a large vocabulary if not any real job opportunities.”
“At least I'm not selling my soul to the devil as my employment of choice,” he retorted, folding up his menu and setting it to the side of the table. “Little miss 'oh, sell out, sell out!'”
“Hey man,” she replied, mimicking his actions and setting her menu on top of his before stretching her arms over her head. “You can do more damage to the system from within than without.”
He rolled his eyes and took a sip of the ice water. “Uh huh. I'll remind you that you said that in fifteen years when you're living in your cookie-cutter suburban house with a minivan and two-point-five kids.”
Risa made a face at him, sticking out her tongue (revealing the neon tongue-ring) and wrinkling her nose. “Hell no. I'm gonna be dead by-”
He cut her off. “The ripe old age of twenty-seven. Yeah, I know. You've only told me a thousand fucking times.”
She shrugged. “A thousand and a half, now,” she murmured into her water glass, taking a sip before setting the glass back down and toying with the assortment of condiments and hot sauces that stood like a sentry below the window. Salt, pepper, a bottle of Tapatio and a couple different kinds of Tabasco... for being a little hole-in-the-wall they had more variety than some of the bigger places at home.
~~~
Short(ish) story using the characters from Millennials. Unlike the last sectioned piece, this was written in order, and is just really fucking long.
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