I walked. There wasn’t anything else to do. I cried. The tears flowed and there wasn’t anything I could do about them. Finally, I reached the little park next to Geiruna’s seashell shop. I stood at the edge of the boardwalk and watched the tourists play in the sand. Tourists. I was a tourist yesterday. Now, I knew I’d be staying here. Sitting down on a bench, I drew my knees in and cried to myself.
It hadn’t been too long, when I felt someone sit down beside me. I ignored her until I heard her talk.
“You ok? Are you lost?”
I didn’t raise my head to look at her, but I shook my head and managed to mumble something that sounded like, “I’m fine.”
“Right, it really sounds like it.”
That was a bit rude. I looked up and into the smiling face of a very pretty girl. Thick, long red hair hung over her shoulders like a shawl. Her green eyes were full of mischief.
“I’m Tiesa,” she said and held out her hand. “It means truth.”
I shook her hand. “Morgan.”
“Ah! Short for Morgandy. You know what your name means?”
I didn’t have a clue, so I shook my head. She seemed pleased that she could enlighten me.
“It means little one from the sea’s edge. Very nice!”
Oookay.
“So, you’re not lost. But you’re crying like you lost something.” She looked me up and down. “Oh, you’ve lost someone.” Her bouncy attitude changed into one of reverence when I nodded. “I’m sorry. It was someone close to you.”
“My father,” I blurted, surprised I hadn’t covered her with snot.
She nodded and crossed her legs. Clearly she wasn’t leaving any time soon. “I’ve lost a grandfather, but that’s about it. I remember how I felt and I can’t imagine losing my father. I wasn’t too close to Papa – that’s what I called him - but I hear he was a good man. Well, I also heard he was a bit of a poop too, so…” She looked toward the ocean and her eyes narrowed. “Oh geez, here they come.”
I looked where she was looking and didn’t see anything.
“Who’s coming?”
“The Dartmoth’s.”
“Who are they?”
“A bunch of jerks. Watch, I bet they stomp on that kid’s sand castle.”
I squinted, looking this way and that, and then noticed three people swimming toward the shore. They swam quickly, and after a few minutes, were walking in the surf to the beach.
“The tall girl’s Herra. That means Lord and she acts like she’s the Lord. Gavran is the short guy. His name just means Raven.”
Herra was very tall - close to six feet. She had long brown hair and was wringing it out as she walked. The short guy was skinny but lithe. He walked with a limp. The third Dartmoth was the last to leave the water.
“That’s Akin. His name means Brave One and he is brave, I suppose.” She turned to me. “But he’s a jerk. They all are. The only reason people put up with them is because they have money.”
Akin moved gracefully, turning many of the women’s heads on the beach. He was tall, blonde, and muscular. I watched him pull himself out of the ocean, as did everyone else on the beach. He was handsome and he knew it. Striding up the beach, he walked right through the little boy’s sand castle.
“See?” Tiesa turned to me. “Told you.”
The three seemed to move like a pack with Herra on the left, Gavran on the right, and Akin bringing up the rear.
As I watched, Akin and Herra turned their heads at the same time and their gaze fell on me. Herra seemed to sneer and she turned her head quickly away. Akin fixed his gaze on me, and after a few moments, I had to look away. They walked haughtily past us and loaded into a black Hummer. Tires screeching, they pulled away.
“Humph, typical.” Tiesa was not as impressed as I was. “I can’t wait for them to graduate.”
“Graduate?” I asked. They looked old enough to be in college.
“Yeah, they’re seniors this year. They go to the private school here on the island. GSA – it’s short for Gulf Stream Academy.” She smiled. “But what about you? Where do you go?”
“I guess I’ll be going there too. I was living with my Dad in Idaho, but it looks like I’ll be staying here now.”
“Oh good!” She clapped her hands and then seemed to realize the only reason I was here was because of my father’s death. “Sorry,” she apologized. “I go to GSA. What grade are you in?”
“I’ll be a senior.”
Her face fell. “Oh.”
“Why? What grade are you?”
“I’m a junior.”