The lights from the pier are bright against the otherwise dark beach. The Ferris wheel spins slowly, the old wooden rickets colliding with the music in a strange symphony as we walk past the various food booths. I tried buying a pair of shorts from the beach shop when we got here, but Kip refused. So here I am, rolled sweat pants and faded Kappa Kappa Beta tank top walking around the pier like it’s a normal thing to do.
“Have you ever been here before?” Kip asks, biting a hunk off his cotton candy stick. Some of it sticks to his nose and it somehow turns me on. He’s dressed like a bum and eating like a child yet somehow my ovaries are reacting. Cool.
“Surprisingly, no. I always knew it was here, obviously. I see it when I’m paddle boarding, but I’ve never actually been here.”
“Good,” he says. “I figured it could kind of be like your senior fair, since I’m assuming you didn’t go when you were in high school.”
“My what?” I ask, confused.
“Fair? You know, the senior fair?”
I stop walking and stare at him blankly.
“What? You guys don’t have those?”
I laugh. “No, Kansas boy, we don’t. We have proms. You know, that normal thing most Americans do where you go to a lame dance and spend five hundred dollars on a dress that ends up getting stripped off by a nervous virgin at the end of the night?”
“Oh yeah? Is that how yours ended?”
I flush red and start walking again. “I didn’t go to mine.”
“Okay, well then this can still be like your senior fair. Since you didn’t do prom, you get a fair. Deal?”
“That doesn’t sound like a very good trade.”
“What if I win you a teddy bear and let you kiss me at the top of the Ferris wheel?” He waggles his brows and smiles a goofy grin.
“You mean what if I let you kiss me?”
“Whatever makes you feel better, Toots. Want a bite?” He thrusts the wad of cotton candy toward me.
“No thanks.”
“Come on,” he says, pulling off a small piece and holding it between his fingers. “You can’t have your senior fair without cotton candy.”
“You make me feel like a charity case.”
He shakes his head. “Nah, it’s not like that. I just want to show you a good time. I know you fit in just fine here. You’re Miss Popular and all that. But, I still think you probably missed out on a lot. I just want to show you some of it now. Life is too short to miss out on the dumb and insignificant rites of passage.”
“Are you going to sign my yearbook, too?”
“If by yearbook you mean cleavage, then sure.” He smiles and holds his index finger out, the blue stickiness holding on with a death grip. “Here, have some.”
“What, you want me to suck it off your finger?”
He shrugs, but doesn’t move. Oh that’s the way he wants to play? Please. Two can play that game.
I grab his wrist in both my hands and pull his finger close to my mouth, my eyes locked on his. Slowly, I slide my lips over the candy and down to his knuckle, running my tongue along his skin as I suck the last little bit off. He swallows hard and licks his lips, his eyes hard on mine. When I finish, I pull back and smack my lips together. “Yum.”
He shakes his head, grinning. “You know, you could have just grabbed it from me. You didn’t have to lick it off.”
This time I shrug. “I guess you’re right, but that wouldn’t have been as much fun now would it?”
Kip tries his hand at a few dart balloon games, winning small inflatable toys each time he failed to pop more than one. Then he moves on to a basketball game, a milk jug game, and finally a lucky duck game. Each time, he ends up with another small prize that didn’t match up to what he wanted. I can tell he’s getting frustrated, and it’s actually really cute. We have a pile of inflatable hammers and stuffed keychain-size teddy bears at this point, but he isn’t giving up.
“I think I should try to win something for you,” I say, fishing out five dollars from my sweatpants pocket.
“That’s not the way it’s supposed to go,” Kip says playfully, though I think he’s trying to disguise his frustration. I laugh and hand the man at the lucky duck game my money. He’s an older man with a flop of hair that’s half brown and half gray. He seems tired, but smiles a genuine smile nonetheless.
Hundreds of little ducks swirl around in the turquoise blue water of a tiny inflatable pool. I get three chances to pick a duck with a star on its butt. Kip has tried nine ducks with no luck. He is now the dad to three adorable stuffed, consolation-prize ducks, though.
I watch as the ducks circle, my eyes flicking to a new one each time I think I’m going to choose. Finally, I settle on one that keeps catching my eye. It has a strange stain on its rubber head that kind of looks like dried gum and one side of his little body is slightly dented. He’s kind of like the ugly duckling, which makes me like him even more. I wait for him to pass by again and snatch him out of the water, turning to Kip with his butt still facing down.
“Moment of truth,” I say, slowly turning the duck. When the bright lights of the game illuminate a small red star, Kip curses.
“No way!”
“Winner!” the man running the game yells. A bell goes off after he pushes a button and I laugh as Kip shakes his head. “You have your pick of anything you’d like, young lady.”
My eyes scan the plethora of large stuffed animals hanging from the top of the game until I spot a fluffy, goofy looking gray and white shark.
“Do you have any Palm South gear in your apartment yet?”
Kip shakes his head. “Not really. I have a banner thing they gave me at orientation.”
I turn back to the man. “I’ll take the shark.”
When he hands it off to me, I immediately turn and stuff it into Kip’s arms. “There. Your first Palm South University Shark.” The shark is our mascot, which is one of my favorite things about the school. We always have parties during Shark Week on Discovery Channel and we even have an on-campus aquarium with a few small sharks swimming around in it. It’s in the Student Union right by the cafeteria, which makes for an interesting tour stop for possible freshmen and their families.
“I should feel embarrassed, but I think I’m too busy being excited. What should we name him?” Kip’s messy blonde hair falls over his eyes a bit as his smile widens, illuminating the night even more than the pier lights. He has his glasses on tonight, which fits perfectly with the laid back sweats and tank style. I still don’t understand how he can make I just woke up look so damn sexy.
“Sparky?”
Kip scrunches his nose. “That kind of sounds like a male stripper.”
“Hey, you don’t know what this shark does in his spare time. And don’t judge, maybe he’s a good dancer. Maybe he’s the one that gets booked for all the bachelorette parties and sorority functions. Maybe he’s paying off college.”
Kip shakes his head, still smiling. “Well excuse me, I didn’t mean to offend you. Or good ol’ Sparky here.” He tucks the shark under his arm and throws the other around my shoulders, leaving me to carry the small bag of misfit toys.
“So, you said you paddleboard?” Kip asks as we wait in line for the Ferris wheel.
I nod, taking another bite of a fried Oreo we picked up along the way. I know I’ll have to work extra hard in the gym this week to work it off, but I don’t even care right now. Whoever thought of frying this little cookie was a freaking genius.
“Can you teach me? I really want to surf, but maybe I could start with paddleboarding.”
“They’re really, really different. Paddleboarding is pretty easy, anyone can do it really. Surfing takes a lot of skill. But yeah, I could show you.”