The blood orange sun was setting on the horizon of the water, the waves cascading softly against the shore. The breeze felt good on their hot, wet skin as they wrestled in the sand. Their laughter seemed to echo forever, getting louder with each tumble. They stopped and watched as the last rays of summer crept behind the clouds, their warmth fading with each passing second. Curtis looked down to watch her breathe, her head nestled carefully in his lap. He was surprised to see her eyes were already closed. Her face was pensive yet somehow calm. In that moment, he wasn’t sure if she was sleeping, praying, or simply clinging to the moment for as long as she could. Her glossy pink lips stretched into a smile.
"Mmm," she breathed, as if finally remembering the taste of a forgotten delicacy. Curtis smiled down at her, willing every muscle not to stir even for a second and break her trance.
"I, I--I do...love you...I love you. I Love You!", he shouted in his head over and over. He meant it too. Every nerve in his body was firing at full speed. “I'm almost sure she can feel my heart pounding outside my chest”, he thought, “maybe that’s why she’s smiling—she knows I’m nervous!”
Hesitant but gaining resolve with every second, Curtis reached down and gently ran a finger tip down her supple olive cheek, softly stroking the corner of her mouth.
"I love you, Marcella Briar” he proclaimed aloud. Two brilliant hazel eyes with the faintest hint of green fluttered open and stared back up at him.
“And why is that, Curtis Barron?” she playfully asked. She reached her hand back behind his neck, playing with the tiny black hairs as she pulled him closer. He could feel the warmth of her skin on his, smell the scent of her chocolate brown hair mixing with the ocean breeze.
“Why do I love you?” he laughed.
“Yes. Why do you love me? Are you sure you’re even capable of love at the tender age of 17?” she smirked in her condescending tone.
He laughed even harder. She was always trying to impress upon him how naive he was to pursue such foolhardy things as love and companionship, never convinced of his true intentions. But Curtis knew the truth—his truth. He would love and cherish this girl for the rest of his life, just because she thought he couldn’t. He would do everything in his power to ensure her happiness, for as long at they both should live. He straightened up, looking out over the waves.
“I love you because at 19 years old you already act like you’re a 40-year-old cougar robbing the cradle. I love you because you think you’re smarter than me and must always have the last word on everything. I love you because you hate Cookies n’ Cream ice cream, which is one of the most unnatural things I’ve ever heard. I love you because you try to put up that super happy, unbothered front so no one will know when you’re upset. I love you because your still super ticklish under your left foot. I love—,” he continued.
“Okay! Okay, Jesus! Usually when a woman asks you that sort of question, you don't respond by listing all the weird shit she does!”, Marcella pouted, folding her arms. Curtis leaned back down and kissed her on her forehead.
“I love you because I know you, Marcie.”
Her face was warm as she leaned back again, silent, studying him.
“I know everything about you; since first grade we’ve been friends. I know how you think, I know what you want out of life, and I know that no matter what, no matter how far we go, we’ll always come back to each other.
He looked back down at her.
“And I know that you love me, even if you believe you don’t. See, it’s written all over your face.”
Smiling, Curtis watched the tears well in her eyes, her angelic face trying to hold everything back. She tugged on his neck and kissed him, long and hard. When their lips finally parted, she flipped over and sat up, criss-cross in the sand, like she always had, as she wiped the tear tracks from her cheeks.
“Next time lead with that.”
As they walked up hand-in-hand from the shore to the small visitors parking lot, they could feel the last of the sunlight on their backs before it disappeared overhead. The night came swiftly and the stars began to sneak out from behind their curtain of clouds. Curtis’ restored ’68 Mustang GT was parked overlooking the beach. Even in the fading light, the would-be black paint still had a rusted undertone which made the whole thing seem “off”. Curtis had spent most of the summer working on her, when not busy at work or out with Marcella. He had saved up the summer before and most of the school year for the parts he needed, and today had been his final tweaks to the engine. He had promised himself he would at least have the car drivable before summer was over...and before Marcella left.
As he went around to the trunk to place their wet towels and blankets in the trunk, Marcella eased into the front passenger seat. Through the back window he could see her sitting there, strangely still, as she looked back out the window.
“What are you thinking?” Curtis wondered to himself. He paused for a moment longer before shutting the trunk and climbing into the drivers seat. He put the key in the ignition, but didn’t turn it all the way. He looked at her. The skin of her thighs was still a little damp as she sat there in her jean shorts. Her bikini top was just barely visible through her white crop top which was also still in the process of drying.
“Everything OK?” he asked, even though he knew it wasn’t.
“Just thinking.” she replied, softly.
“Of course she is, you idiot,” Curtis thought to himself as he watched her. No doubt
she was thinking about tomorrow, when she would be forced to leave Brookhaven for Virginia and start moving into her new apartment for school. Marcella would be starting college in two weeks, so her father had insisted they leave a week early to help her get things settled before classes began. Which in turn meant that this past week, up until tonight, would be the last time that they were alone together for quite awhile.
“What’s on your mind Marcie?”
Silence.
“Hmm. Well if you don’t tell me I’m just gonna have to guess.”
Marcella finally turned and looked in his eyes. God, she was so beautiful. “Alright.”
“Alright, what?” Curtis said, flustered by her gaze.
“Guess what I’m thinking.”
Curtis scoffed at her challenge, pretending to rub his temples intensely as he closed his eyes to focus on the frequency of her brain waves.
“Hmmmm, sounds like ‘Wow, how the Hell did I end up in the car with such a devilishly handsome boy? Is he into me? What should I do now?’” Curtis said, mocking the sound of her exasperated voice. Smiling, Marcella punched him hard in the shoulder as she had done when they were kids.
“This is serious, you ass!”
“Ouch! Okay, okay!...” Curtis said, rubbing his shoulder. This time his smile faded as he stared out the front windshield, watching the dark waves lap at the sandy shore. “You’re wondering where you go from here. College will be so new, and big, and
scary. You’re whole life is here in Brookhaven. So how do you just pack up and leave all the memories behind? Leave me behind...”
Marcella stared as him, feeling the tears well again.
“But it’s okay though. Because you’re such an amazing person and you’re going to do so great. You’re gonna meet all new people and experience all these new things and become so absorbed in your new world, that pretty soon you won’t even think about this old place.
A tear rolled down his cheek as he turned to face her, smiling through his pain. He took her face in his hands once more.
“Don’t worry about a thing, Marcie. I believe in you.”
Marcella wept as she buried her face into his shoulder. He stroked the back of her head softly. Minutes felt like hours as they clung to each other, each willing time to stop in its tracks. Marcella finally looked up at him through her puffy red eyes, taking in the curve of his lips, his strong clenched jaw, and the deep brown of his eyes.
“Wrong.” she whispered. She smiled sheepishly as a confused look spread across Curtis’ face.
“What do you mean?” he said.
“That’s—that’s not what I was thinking,” she sniffled.
Before Curtis could respond, Marcella pulled him in for a kiss—long, wet, and full of
passion as she hugged him tighter, prompting him to do the same. Their mouths still locked, Marcella reached and began unbuttoning his billowy blue oxford. Curtis grabbed her hands and pulled away, looking straight in her eyes. Marcella looked back, sensing the root of his hesitation.
“I was thinking that I love you too.”
Curtis pounced as passion and desire washed over him like a flood. He stretched himself through the gap to the backseat, pulling her along with him. Layer by layer, their nakedness was revealed and their youthful bodies synchronized as the bounds of their love cascaded like the waves below. Each thrust, each caress, each kiss was even more important as both knew the chances it would be their last. The moon shone brightly, its reflection illuminating their little haven in the back of that ’68 Mustang GT as Curtis Barron made love to Marcella Briar for the first and only night they would ever spend together at the Beach.
It must’ve been around 1 a.m. when Curtis was stirred awake by the rustling bushes swaying in the wind outside the car. He was still shirtless with Marcella nestled on his chest, sound asleep. Her chest was bare against his, the beating of their hearts almost in perfect rhythm. Curtis looked at her body, desperately memorizing every hill and valley. Suddenly, he felt a twinge of pain in his lower back, most likely from the odd curve he was in being too tall to stretch out fully on the backseat.
He winced in pain and shifted his position. Marcella slowly opened her eyes and, realizing her weight was probably adding to the problem, quickly sat up and rubbed her eyes. She looked around the car for her phone.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“1:15,” Curtis replied, already flipping through missed messages on his phone. “My Dad texted me three times. Shit, I’ll be he’s pissed. What about you?”
“Well I’d tell you if I could find my damn—wait, yea here it is!” said Marcella as she pulled her iPhone from in between the seat cushions. She started tapping on the screen, panic etched on her face.
“Mom called five times. Daddy, twice. I’m royally screwed. But it’s my last night, what did they expect?”
A subtle silence crept between them as they both remembered the inevitable departure yet to come, the arrival of which cast a shadow of urgency around everything that had lead them to this moment.
“We should go,” said Curtis as he grabbed his crumpled oxford off the car floor.
“...Yeah.” Marcela agreed, fastening the back of her bikini back together. Curtis watched shyly as she pulled her shorts back up, and buttoned them. Marcella could feel his eyes on her and blushed.
“Do you regret it?” he asked softly.
“I meant what I said. Did you?”
Curtis looked at her, steadying himself.
“More than anything I’ve ever said in my life.”
Marcella smiled, leaned over and kissed him once more. Then, without another
word, she climbed back up to the front passenger seat.
Curtis laughed. “I think I’ll walk around this time,” he said as he got out the car. He
shut the door and walked to the drivers side. He opened the door just as the bushes nearby rustled loudly. Curtis paused, his eyes straining to see in the darkness.
“Hmm,” he thought.
“WHAM!” Curtis’ head smashed onto the roof of the car, as his body crumpled to the cold pavement below. His nose was spewing blood, his vision blurred by force of the impact. His ears were ringing but he could hear Marcella screaming in fright, not of his fall, but at what or whom had caused it.
He looked up through his bloodshot eyes to make out a hooded figure, dressed completely in black peering down and standing over him. It was too dark for Curtis to see inside the hood, but from the ragged breathing and the force with which he had been struck, he was sure it was a man. Marcella’s screams continued as the Hooded Man knelt down and revealed a stainless steel hunting knife from his pocket. Almost tenderly, he wrapped his gloved left hand around Curtis’ throat, gradually increasing the pressure of his grip. The knife brandished in his right hand seemed to catch the moon light perfectly as it inched closer to his throat.
With one hand on the man’s wrist and gasping for air, Curtis reached for something, anything to strike the man before he dealt the deadly blow. Curtis craned his neck away, the knife inches away from his carotid artery, when suddenly the pressure lifted. Curtis coughed profusely and sat up quickly, holding his neck. The Hooded Man had been pulled away after Marcella jumped on his back, grabbing him into a headlock. The Man ran in circles trying to pull her off before ramming them back into the side of the car.
Marcella screamed in pain as she let him go and dropped to the ground. However, in the struggle the Man had dropped his knife. Curtis darted toward it and stood, knife in hand, between Marcella and the Hooded Man.
“What the fuck is your problem!?” He screamed, his hand quivering as he weighed his options. There were two of them and only one of him so technically the odds should be in their favor. But Marcella was still knocked out on the ground, so she wouldn’t be able to help and he couldn’t get her into the car with him still around. His vision was still blurry, too, which made seeing the Man’s moves even harder in the dark. Curtis had never harmed, much less killed, another human being before but he realized now he’d have no other choice.
“A little late to go for a swim, huh boy?” said a cold, unfamiliar voice. “You and your pretty girlie should be home by now. All kinds of things can happen at the midnight hour.” He laughed. A menacing, maniacal laugh that could only come from the most deranged of persons. Curtis gripped the knife harder.
“Just leave us the fuck alone man! We don’t have to do this. You can leave right now and we won’t call the police. We didn’t see your face so we couldn’t I.D. you anyway. Just GO!”
The laughter ceased. Instead he stepped closer.
“I’m warning you!”
“Ooooh. Go ahead...warn me. Hehehehe....” Another step.
“Come any closer and I’ll fucking kill you.”
“Well go on then. Kill me. Just know, that if you don’t, I’ll be the one killing you. And
your little girlie too.” Another step, but then he paused. “Well, maybe not girlie—Not yet. I haven’t had a pretty one in quite awhile.” He chuckled to himself. “Perhaps a bit of fun first—”
Curtis lunged with the knife, swinging madly. The Hooded Man ducked out of the way, punching Curtis in the rib. Staggering, Curtis lunged again, this time slicing the Man’s thigh. As he fell to one knee, Curtis tackled his back, dropping the knife as they tumbled down the steps leading back down to the shore. Sand flew around them as they wrestled. Curtis, now on top, punched and punched till his knuckles bled. The Hooded Man sputtered blood from his mouth onto the cold sand. He did not move.
Exhausted, Curtis stood up and staggered back toward the steps. “Marcella!” he called. “Marcella!!”
Marcella stirred awake, still lying on the pavement. She wobbled to her feet. Dazed, she looked around her. The steel knife was lying a few feet in front of her. Her face turned to panic as she ran towards it, remembering the ordeal they were currently in.
“CURTIS!” She screamed.
“Marcella!” She gasped at the sound of her name, and turned toward the source. Curtis was limping his way up the steps from the shore. She ran to him. Curtis was
almost at the top step when a sharp pain echoed through his back. He winced as recognition and fear spread across his face. His shirt felt cold and wet as he felt his own blood stream down his back. Marcella was almost to him. He had to warn her.
“STOP!” He yelled at her. Marcella stopped obediently, her face full of fear and confusion. He knew that look. It was one of many that he’d come to love about her. Fitting that it be the last one he’d ever see.
Marcella stared at Curtis, still frozen in place. Why had he told her to stop? Why was he smiling. She took another step but he raised his hand.
“Run.” Then he dropped to the pavement. Still, lifeless. A larger black steel knife protruding from his blood-soaked back.
“NO!!!!!” she screamed. She dropped to her knees, the tears running down her face. She held her head in her hands, her breathing choked through her violent sobs. Then, footsteps.
She looked back at Curtis’ body to see the Hooded Man coming up the steps behind him. There were bloodstains on his chest, but through the moonlight she could see white of his teeth as a smile formed underneath the hood. He knelt down slowly beside Curtis’ body and leaned all way down beside his ear.
“Told you so.”
He wrenched the long black knife out from the dead boy’s spine, then turned to Marcella. Terrified, she looked around her, searching for a way out. “That’s it!” She thought as she stood up and sprinted back to the open drivers side door of the Mustang. She jumped in the car and locked the doors. The keys were still in the ignition from earlier. Through the windshield, she could see the Hooded Man limping hurriedly after her. She turned the key, revved the engine, and swung out of the parking spot and off onto the street. She sobbed to herself as she looked back in the rearview to see The Hooded Man waving her goodbye, knife still in hand, and Curtis’ body lying motionless on the cold pavement.