Zenon's Game Chapter 112

The beach was bare in early November. The waves were almost white, and the sand was a pale yellow. It's like winter sucked the color out of nature. Well, either that or I should really check my eyesight.

Zenon parked his black Jeep wrangler in employee parking.

"Why are you staring at yourself like that?" he asked me.

I pulled away from the car mirror, not even ashamed about it. "Do I need contacts?"

I looked back at him and his flawless face. He had one hand on the steering wheel and the left side of his face was highlighted by the sun streaming in from the glass window behind him. I wouldn't even be sad if he was the last thing I saw.

"Your eyes are beautiful," he answered and then pushed open his car door, "Now let's go."

He strolled around the car and opened the door for me.

I only then saw the giant 'E' in front of us. "Are we in employee parking?!" I exclaimed as I hopped out.

"Maybe you do need contacts," he replied.

We had dropped Cynthia off on our way to the Surfside Shack. She'd wanted to come but had to babysit her step-siblings. If only she could babysit me - I've turned an afternoon at the Surfside Shack into chaos once before.

Surfboards rested against the blue building and a wooden sign hung overhead: Surfside Shack. Seniors spilled out of the front door, loud music coming from inside.

Zenon was still in a black t-shirt and I wished I didn't notice the girls staring. I couldn't blame them. I'd shamelessly stared too when we first met... when he walked out of his bedroom in boxers during summer camp...

Or when he relaxed under the sun shirtless...

Right before he'd open his mouth and say something obnoxious.

Zenon turned around, as if he could hear my brainwaves and reached out for my hand.

And that's when I realized. I don't need to wait for summer to see Zenon shirtless.

The booths at the Surfside Shack were packed and the bar was crowded. Cocktails were swapping hands and people were stripping off their winter clothing. Heat within the bar was turning the place up.

'Last day of summer' was the theme of the party. After today, the Surfside Shack would be closed for winter.

Someone grabbed onto Zenon soon after we stepped in. I wasn't so surprised. I knew his friends would surround him, and I didn't want to interrupt it. At parties, he was like a fish in water, and I was like a fish... not in water.

I walked to the bar and squeezed into a free spot. I tried to get the bartender's attention, but it wasn't working. The bartender kept talking to the group next to me. Minutes passed and I was seriously starting to question whether I wasn't invisible... when I felt someone behind me.

His arm brushed my shoulder. Zenon wrapped his arm around my waist as he stood behind me at the bar. I forgot about the crowd around us or about how I was the one the crowd had forgotten. He pulled me against him. I felt the warmth of his hand holding me and breathed in his t-shirt smell.

Zenon leant his head down and whispered in my ear, "Chocolate milkshake?"

He knows the way to my heart.

"And whipped cream," I whispered back, our faces touching, "With cherries."

Bryce suddenly squeezed in between us, "And I'll have a beer."

Bryce's cologne overpowered my nostrils as his tall body split mine away from Zenon's. Where did he even come from? Romantic moment ruined.

Bryce was a confident guy with a black eye. The bruises from the fight on Friday hadn't fully healed.

"You'll have to try that entrance again, man," Zenon said, shoving him back and stepping towards me defensively.

Bryce didn't mind the push. Instead, he slid onto a barstool on Zenon's left and said, "Your date went well I take it."

Zenon squeezed my hand.

Bryce's eye twinkled, "Did you two-"

"Bartender," Zenon put his hand against the counter, "Two beers and a chocolate milkshake."

The bartender stopped chatting and immediately paid attention. I sighed, frustrated that I couldn't get that same reaction. Ten minutes and I still hadn't ordered my drink. One minute with Zenon and we were getting served.

Zenon saw my sigh and misunderstood it. "With whipped cream and cherries. Can't forget that."

"Sure thing. He'll get it for you," the bartender pointed at his colleague serving the other side of the bar, "Did you hear that, AT? Two beers and a milkshake."

AT was dealing with customers on the other side. He turned towards us and my mouth dropped open when I saw who it was. It was Axel.

Axel was bartending.

"Axel?!" I exclaimed.

Since when did Axel work at the bar?

"What are you doing there?!" I exclaimed and turned to Zenon, "How are you not surprised by this?"

Zenon shrugged, "It's Axel."

As if that explains anything.

"This is weird," Bryce agreed. Finally someone who agrees with me. "No one calls him AT. Why do you?"

That's so not my point.

The first bartender shrugged and muttered something about it being Axel's name.

"It's not his name," Bryce said.

Meanwhile, Axel abandoned the customer he was serving and rushed towards us with relief. "You're here!"

"I've been here all afternoon," Bryce answered, still glaring at the first bartender.

"Not you," Axel told Bryce, "I needed Candace."

Axel was wearing a black Surfside apron, with his arm in a cast. He stared at me with pleading, puppy dog eyes.

"The crazy gambler you know made me work at the bar," Axel explained, "He saw me hanging out here, told me to stop playing around and get to work. Something about needing more discipline."

The gambler had only met Axel three times before. Once at a fight in the Surfside shack, once at a fight in a comedy bar and once at a fight on the street. He probably thought working the bar would keep Axel out of trouble.

In reality, Zenon or I usually created it.

Bryce stared at his empty hand, "I thought I ordered a beer."