OOC Date: June 30 - July 3
IC Date: June 11
Hidden Beach
The hidden beach is not so much a secret to locals, so much as a secret to vacationers. Reached only by a trip outside of the city limits and down a stretch of gravel roads, the hidden beach is located just a shy walk from the Peal Cove Lighthouse. Down a path the beach exposes itself as a stretch of pristine, unpopulated beach. Open sands and rolling shallows make this portion of the coastline prime real-estate for surfers and partiers. There is of course an unspoken rule among the locals that keeping the stretch of beach clean in a priority. Even with the amount of parting that happens in the remote area, there is seldom trash scattering the sands. There is however a rather large burn pit up beach.
Continued from The Psychology of Rebellion Part 1
Chuckling, Adam sent a quick glance toward the girl as she steeled into the passenger side. “Ya know, it sounds weird when you curse. It doesn’t fit you.” He didn’t seem to be criticizing so much as observing her demeanor and appearance at once. She didn’t seem the type to use vulgarity. If anything he’d have been floored to hear ‘stupid head’ being thrown around by the brunette next to him. Not necessarily a bad thing.
Turning down the main street, Adam allowed the jeep to slow to the limit before finally relaxing back into his seat. He licked his lips thoughtfully for the moment, a habit no doubt rather befitting an athlete. (And sadly a habit that was learned from his mother, much to his father’s upset). “You don’t got a suit.” Adam aired gently, glancing toward her with a slowly forming grin. Despite this, he does seem to be directing their path toward the beach. “But okay Drama. You wanna go to the beach, we will. I got nothing to hide.” A new wink, he then laughs. “But we’re going to the other beach. I hate seeing fat people sunbathing. It reminds me how shallow the gene pool is getting and how abused the welfare system has become. That cool with you? I’m pretty sure that’s where everyone was going anyway. Away from the tourists, nice secluded piece of private sand.” Regardless of her answer, his mind appears to be set.
Unable to contain the laughter, she shook her head, rolling down the window. "It sounds weird?" she echoed, turning her eyes to him. "Well I'm sorry if your view of me changed for the worse. I guess there's a lot about me you don't know." Her words lacked true apologetics, but certainly were laced with the chuckles that hadn't dissipated yet. Letting go of them, instead releasing a sigh induced by the wind whipping through the window, Emma finally took into consideration the fact that she, indeed, did not have a bathing suit. Could have been problematic were bathing suits not just about equivalent to lingere.
Of course, that was not in any way implying that she was about ready to strip in front of a boy she'd just met. But it was certainly an option.
"You know," she cut in after he was done, "'Drama' has a name, Jock." It was sad that that was how people were known in this school. The moment they walked in the door their freshman year, they were judged and categorized, and were forbidden to break from that mold they'd been put in. "And I'm perfectly fine with going to the beach. I don't know about you." Raising her brows, she sent him a knowing - almost challenging - look, a smirk crawling up a corner of her mouth.
Emma laughed again at his quips at society. "Fine by me."
Had Adam intended to hide the amusement from his features, he failed dramatically. He allowed a faint laugh to break his silence, his eyes diverting away toward the road as he moved to prop his head up with his hand, leaning against the window seal of the jeep door.
“Okay fine. /Emma/,” he paused for punctuation before rolling his eyes back toward her, “And I have you know you could fill a palm-pilot with everything I don’t know about you, and a fortune cookie with what I do.” Meaning, he knew very little about the smart girl that sat in front of him for a year. Her name. Her involvement with the drama club. That had all been rather well known things. Who she herself was? Now that was a different story. He had set her in the cookie-cut definition of a ‘good girl’ however. For that he wasn’t sorry. It fit.
“So other than talking well intentioned classmates into skipping school, and acting and being *much* smarter than me, all I know if that you hate bathing suits. So tell me something else? What else do you like?” he cats her a grin at that, offering a wink before turning the jeep off the main highway and onto a gravel road. Off the beaten path, that’s where you find the hidden beach. Over the hill and through the woods. It’s a good thing he drives a jeep, eh?
Nodding, she had to concede to what he'd said about his knowledge of her, mostly because it was likewise with her. Stealing a glance over to him, she tried to make a laundry list of all the things she knew about him, just to see. 1. His name is Adam. 2. He's a jock. 3. He has a jeep. 4. He's extremely cute. That was where the list fell short. Very, very dry and short. "Can't say I know any more about you than you do about me. Adam," she stressed, being a little too emphatic for her own good. Being an actor did bad things to her.
Suddenly put under the lamp again, she snapped her head up, trying to think of things. What sort of things did she like? "Well…" she began softly, abruptly crawling back into her shell for a moment, "I can tell you I don't like people saying that I'm smarter than them. I'm not as naive as people think that I am. I, uh…there's nothing really that you don't see. I'm the goody two shoes who's never done anything raunchy or rule-breaking in my life. I like…uh…I don't really know," she chuckled nervously, embarrassed, feeling her cheeks flush red.
"I like the beach."
Adam hummed lowly to himself slowing the jeep down for the now much bumpier road. “Well, first off, you *are* smarter than me. Our GPA’s can vouch for that small tidbit of honesty.” He arched his brows as he sent her a small smirk, “Mere fact. Don’t be so upset about it.” A few laughs later, he reached to give her leg a nudge with his fist. “But hey, I know it. My grandma always says it’s a good thing I was born with dimples. Apparently she’s banking on them getting me through college.” Judging by the expression Adam wore, he wasn’t so sure himself. The thought brought a laugh to him, “But, beyond that I like sorts, and cars, and girls…” beat, “I’m embarrassingly simple and shamefully shallow. I suck at crowds and I absolutely love anything vinegar and salt flavored. Oh, and I won’t eat or drink anything blue. I have no idea why, my grandmother says it’s all mental. I am forced to agree.” See, he had no problem spilling it for the girl. In fact, he almost seemed to be enjoying his bare-all exchange.
The jeep veers a slow turn to the right before it rolled much more slowly through a gate. Old, wooden, and beaten by seaspray, the sound of the beach was almost audible over the sound of the engine and chattering. Adam himself, however, was much more interested in waiting for the girl next to him to share her ramble. It was only fair after. “So?” he asked a few beats later, “Tell all. Come on. It’s only fair.”
Now that she paid attention, he did have dimples that probably could get him through college-or at the very least, through a part-time job during his senior year. Smiling openly at that, she tried to drop her shoulder muscles that had tensed over the duration of her spill-or, rather, lack thereof. "Well there's a problem there, for one thing. The fact that you're admitting to knowing you're shallow is just proof enough that you aren't. Shallow people don't know they're shallow. That's what makes them shallow." Chuckling, she shifted her gaze out the window to marvel at the vacant shore. Beautiful, definitely not what she had in mind.
"Anything blue? Even…blueberries? Or…?" Well, what else was blue that wasn't artificially induced?
Her eyes widened but she grinned easily. "Tell all? What, I spill out my unsure soul to you and you want more?" she gasped, feigning incredulousness. "There's nothing interesting about me, Adam. I promise. I'm the boring, uneventful person you think I am. I've never kissed anybody, for starters. I've never skipped school. My drama coach has told me I'll never make it in theater. The other day I woke up with nail polish on my neck and I don't know how it got there. See? I'm boring!"
Watching her, Adams expression faltered for only a moment. No doubt, she’d made a point that caused him to think. “Hmm.” What do you say to that? That would make her, “Don’t feel bad. All the best chick flicks start out with girls just like you, and they –always- get one of those obnoxiously cute endings. Sooo..statistics are in your favor.” At least in Hollywood.
It wasn’t long later that the Jeep rolled to a stop at the edge of a field. Sending a small glance to the area, Adam made note of several other cars. A few trucks had crept father down the small path, while a small white convertible had somehow managed to find the only sinkhole in the area and was hopelessly stuck for the afternoon.
Not his problem.
“Come on, boo. Let’s walk.” It wasn’t that far to walk. Even from his jeep the sounds of laughing and music could be heard, the telltale signs of a collection of high school truants. Stepping around the jeep, he pauses to wait for Emma to climb out, his hands slipping into his pockets as he rocked over his heels. “Anyway, you aren’t all that boring. You’re here today. I can’t promise you an epic afternoon but I guess its better than class, huh?” He liked to think so.
"Eww," she remarked, scrunching her nose up in disgust at the mention of chick flicks. Sliding out of the car, she kicked off her shoes and left them inside before shutting the door and going out into the sand, flexing her toes to get them nice and situated. Outside. Water. Good. Breeze. Cute guy. Very good. Taking a deep and slightly meaningless breath (why did she get so choked up over one guy? Maybe because it never happened to her (ever) but she needed to let go), Emma met him at his side and nodded at the suggestion, or rather, gentle demand, of a walk.
He didn't think she was boring, or he was just saying that to make her feel better? Smiling faintly, her attempt latent and tired, she looked at her feet as they slowly walked. "Definitely better than class," she agreed. "I'm not looking for epic, anyway, I guess. Just something out of the ordinary. Something I wouldn't do on a normal day." And this certainly covered those areas…smothered them.
"So about this break-up?" she prompted casually. "The one you started to talk about in class. What happened?"
Ahh. There is was. Mention of the breakup caused a visible reaction on his features. Not so much a bad reaction, rather it was one of embarrassment and a subtle tint of amusement. He rolled his eyes as he laughed, his head tilting to the side as his stride hinted at a much lazier gait. “Well…” he drew out with a laugh, “Angie kinda has a habit of overreacting.” Understatement. “And her toadies have a habit of making mountains out of molehills. Someone saw me and Ashley Kerrington talking in class and told Angie I was flirting.” Was he? Probably. Regardless he shrugged, lowering his gaze over toward he girl, light, casual, and unaffected by the topic for the most. “The Kates family never goes small. Everything has to be a big theatrical display.” He almost sung the last few words as he allowed his steps wander along the beach path toward the others. Not far now, the party (if you could call it that) was in sight.
Moving on, he allowed his eyes to return to Emma. “I can’t say it wasn’t already coming. We’ve been together forever. One of those family things. Her dad and my dad are pals; therefore it only makes business sense for us to be together.” Again, he shrugged, “Kinda dumb if you ask me. But it’s over.”
Not only was there residual emotion from earlier, but there was a new type of discomfort about his face. There really wasn't any reason for her not to believe he was sensitive about the topic, but with that in mind, it was very contradictory to hear the casualty of his tone as he explained what had happened. Unsure which side of him believe, she kept a close eye on his features to see if there were any significant changes. Angie… She could picture the face, sort of…not that she ever conversed with her. Hell, she'd probably never made solid eye contact with her, afraid of having holes burned through her skin.
When she saw his gaze moving back to her, she averted her eyes to the ground. "Well. I'm sorry, then. It must suck to have your legs pulled out from under you like that. I mean, flirting or not, you didn't deserve that." Something told her Adam didn't have it in him to cheat on his girlfriend. Flirting with someone else? Maybe. Because she was fairly certain he'd unintentionally tossed a few lines her way, but she was far too naive to pick up on them. And if she had, she ignored them. Unwillingly, of course. She'd give anything to have the guts to flirt back.
"I agree. Very dumb."
And also very enviable. But that was the way the world turned.
"So I take it the gossip girls are out to get you about it, huh?" she inquired.
Again Adam offered a chuckle to the comment though his eyes this time moved toward the party they were steadily closing in on. He was counting faces no doubt. Who was here, who wasn’t. Was Angelia present? No, not yet for what he could see. A small air of relief flooded his features at that realization. Things would be good for a while. Back to the topic at hand.
“Yeah well, I have to agree. Blind sighted is an understatement to my reaction to the breakup. I wasn’t even remotely aware I was in trouble.” He grins almost sheepishly at the confession. “I more or less stood silently like a moron while she lectured me and stormed off. I wish I could say I held my own…but I can’t.” He didn’t even know what was happening until an hour later when the gossip train started up again.
Slipping his hands up of his pockets, Adam moved to run them through his hair with a sigh, “It’s not so bad though. I think my parents were more broken up than myself. All the worry about how they would face the Kates at brunch was sickening.” Again, Adam looked more amused at the concept than upset. He and Angelia broke up a lot. This was almost routine these days. Though it was the first time they’d broken up over another girl.
“I wouldn’t say the gossip mob really bugs me that much, unless they’re ganging up on me. In large herds they can be intimidating.” He laughed at that, turning an eye toward one of the glaring blonds near the water. “It was that Simone Says thing that got me. She THRASHED on me. It was epic…in a bad way epic. I’m not sure but I think that chick hates me…whoever she is.”
It could be true or it could all be in his head, but either way Adam didn't seem interested in giving the rings of popularity much more of his thought. "Come'on Drama. Let's snag a good spot before their all gone. Wont be long before their all drunk enough to start the real show." It was a fact of adolescent fact. Skipping school for most people (especially juniors and seniors) meant indulging until their passed out, it always made the time between a riot for those clear headed enough to point and laugh.
