continued to ignore him and walked over to the diving board. She distributed a great deal of determination. He stared at her body, she was so healthy, perfect. She stood on the diving board for a few seconds, poised, and then boom! Up the sky, her body a ball of tanned flesh before splashing back into the water.
“Hey!” he called out as she made her way back to the board again. She stopped and stared at him.
“Could you stop that?” He held his hand out expressively. “Stop diving.”
She just stared at him, bewildered. Then she frowned.
“I can hear you,” he pointed to the window of his room. “Every time you splash, I hear it. I can’t sleep, all I wanna do is sleep.”
“All I wanna do is swim,” she said. She was a bit stubborn, this one, he realized.
“That’s fine, you can swim – just don’t dive.”
“Ha! Yes, boss,” she sarcastically swiped.
“I want to sleep – please!” he shouted loud enough to shake anyone up but Sam. She just seemed unshakable.
“I’d love to cater to your needs, but I need to practice tonight because last night I had to skip it, I went to see Black Label Society.” She looked at him, waiting for that to generate some interest. “The band?”
“That’s nice, I hope you find someone who cares.”
“I want to be in the Olympics,” she went on. “Not that you care about this – but if you want to be good at something you have to keep doing it. I would never stay here and put up with my dad if there wasn’t a pool, so you wanting me to stop the only reason I’m here is an outrage.”
“I want to sleep,” he said again, this time just totally desperate.
“Its three in the afternoon,” she pointed out.
“I don’t care,” he said, so sincere.
“Is there such a thing as Sleeping Olympics?”
“Oh I wish.”
He started to walk off, this girl was going to do what she wanted and it just left him frustrated.
“What happened to you?” she called out. He turned and scowled at her. He pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his head and went back to his room. He heard a splash before he was even back inside the motel.
36
“She loves her diving,” Michael said as Nathanial walked passed him to the stairs. Nathanial stopped halfway up the stairs and looked at Michael.
“She hurt herself once, real bad,” Michael let him know. “Hit her head real hard on the bottom of a swimming pool and was in the hospital for weeks. Doesn’t stop her though. Not my Sammy. She’s always doing something – drawing, swimming, something…”
Nathanial figured he should say something but he just had nothing.
“Room okay?” Michael asked. Nathanial gave a slight nod before descending up the stairs. He tried once again for sleep, but he just couldn’t slip out of his own reality.
36
Nathanial stared at the door, his face finding comfort on a cool spot on the pillow, when a note was slipped under his door. He waited until he heard soft footsteps outside his door fade away before he went to fetch it.
Hungry as hell, no more snack machine, can’t take it, wanna go with me somewhere?
- The Diver
Nathanial walked over to the trashcan and tossed the note in it and tried once again to fall asleep. And he did.
When he woke up, it was dark out and the sky was glittery with stars. He stared down at the pool. It was empty. It seemed a bit depressing without her there. Vapid.
He turned when he heard something by the door. Another freaking note. She’s not going to give up.
He marched over to it. Curiosity would not allow him to toss it before viewing it. This time it was a drawing of Lopsky diving into the pool. It was such a hilarious sight it made Nathanial laugh, which made his back hurt. She slid another one under the door. This time it was a drawing of a man holding a gun to a chicken with a quote bubble above him: GIVE ME ALL YOUR EGGS BITCH!!!
He opened the door just a crack and looked down at her. Her eyes were a beautiful golden color he hadn’t noticed before. She glanced up at him.
“What is wrong with you?” he asked. He still sounded so angry.
“I figure the next best thing to sleep is laughter. Did you laugh?”
He tried to fight off his smile. “Nope.”
She waited a minute before she looked back up at him. She kind of reminded him of Natalie Wood.
“So now I’m very hungry,” she said.
“You never got food?”
“No. I want you to come with me.”
“Why? You don’t know me. I’m a guy. I’m an asshole. I told you I just want to sleep.”
“Well that doesn’t seem to be working out for you.” Her tone was combative when his was, and calm when his was calm. This drove him nuts.
“Okay…I guess I could eat,” he gave up.
“I’m betting you could if you tried.”
38
He found her in the lobby in a Nirvana shirt, shorts and converse sneakers with no socks. He told her he needed a minute to get ready. She thought he meant change clothes, but he just needed to sit around and prepare himself for the outside world.
“Your eye looks better,” she said. He followed her out to the parking lot, which only had about three cars, one of them was Lopsky’s.
“You think Lopsky enjoyed his bath?” Sam asked, amused.
“I don’t want to think about that,” Nathanial clarified. She laughed and looked over at him as she unlocked the driver side door. She got in and popped his lock up. Sam had a nice car. It was a black 2006 Mustang.
“Fasten your seatbelt,” she said. He didn’t really like taking orders, but she seemed to love giving them out. He reached back for the seatbelt and fastened it. She waited until he was safely tucked in and pulled out of the parking lot.
“So were you in some kind of accident?” she asked. He waited a minute to respond.
“Yes.” She glanced over at him with a casual stare, nothing too intrusive. He nodded and tugged on his seatbelt, holding it away from his neck.
“So…sorry but your situation is suspicious – I mean…was anyone else hurt?”
“A tree,” he said. He didn’t want to talk. And damn it, everything led to talking. You had to talk if you went somewhere, you had to interact with someone at some point. He was getting a very bad headache.
“How do you feel about Chuck-E-Cheese?” Sam asked.
“You can’t be serious,” he said, a little life coming back to his tone.
“I’m not,” she smirked. “I was just trying to get you to talk.”
“I’m just starving.”
“I know where we can go,” she said. He liked her calmness and confidence. She turned off the road they were on. Her tone was soothing and promising of something good. She drove for about twenty more minutes when Nathanial saw half-pipes and ramps and a weathered sign that read SALT SKATE PARK.
“A skate park?” he looked at her. “I thought we were eating.”
“We are dude. You’ll really like this.”
Nathanial was apprehensive. He watched as Sam got out of the car and walked around, looking in through his window.
“I used to come here when I was a kid, come on!” She turned and disappeared down a hill. Nathanial got out and tried to keep up. The park looked like a half-built monster of hope. There were a few kids skating, and another boy sleeping on a bench. Sam walked fast. Nathanial panned her for one of those athletic tomboy types.
She was headed to a taco stand called Sotanos. There were picnic tables set up that looked out at a basketball court.
“There used to be a pool here but it was drained once and never filled back up,” Sam explained as she stood in front of the taco stand. “I hurt myself really bad in it,” she shared, seeming somewhat grim for a m
inute. “So,” she got over it. “What do you want? I’m buying,” she said.
“You don’t…have to do that but…I’ll get a couple of tacos and…a quesadilla, chicken.”
“Hungry boy,” she said, smiling as she turned to the cashier to order.
“Let’s go around back,” she said after ordering. They headed around to the back of the stand to a picnic table. The slapping of boards against pavement was nonstop, but not that bothersome. Even though Nathanial could hear people skating, when he looked around he couldn’t spot anyone.
“So do you skate?” Nathanial asked, listening to the long sliding sound of a skateboarder on the halfpipe.
“Used to, my dad hates it– he hates everything I do basically. He’s afraid I’m going to hurt myself again.” She shrugged. “You’re going to get hurt,” she said. “That’s just part of life.”
He stared at her for a minute. He felt like she’d shared a part of her, and he wanted to share something with her. He took out a piece of paper he’d scribbled something down on earlier. He pushed it over to her.
“Karate in a…kar?” she looked up at him puzzled.
“I want to start a band…or…something and call it that.”
“You spelled car wrong.”
“I did it on purpose,” he said. “I…Lopsky…was talking about how he knew karate when he gave me a ride…”
“Oh.” She smiled after a minute. “I like it.” She reached over and wiped sour cream from the corner of her mouth and licked it off her finger.
“How old are you?” she asked.
“Twenty…two.” He sounded like he didn’t know. “You?”
“Sixteen.”
“Oops…”
“Why oops?”
“I don’t know…that’s young. I could get