I knew what a car was; such things were in my knowledge base, but I’d never ridden in one before. Billy drove. I sat across from him on the vinyl bench seat, upright with the belt holding me tight, with my little skirt hitched up showing my thighs.
“I’m so sorry,” Billy said. “I mean, I’m sorry I left like that and didn’t help you finish.”
I stuck my hand, letting it hover by him so he could take it into his. He did and gave a little squeeze.
“It’s okay, Billy. All that matters is that you came back.”
I hadn’t told Billy how close things were, how close I was to dying. I don’t think anyone else had either. He seemed natural and happy. His grip on my hand was relaxed. His other hand rested on the steering wheel, jogging this way and that as he guided the car along the tree-lined road.
“I’m very glad you came back,” I said.
He gave my hand another squeeze. Then he let go and pulled the brim of his ball cap lower over his eyes.
“Take off your hat,” I said.
“Oh? Why?”
“I wanna see your eyes.”
In the room where we’d fucked, he’d worn his cap and his eyes had seemed like dark pools. I wanted to see them in sunlight.
“Come on, sweetie.” I reached for the cap.
“Nah!” He pushed my hand away. “I like my hat.”
“Aw!” I sat back with my hands in my lap.
At that moment, we reached the top of a ridge that stretched along the edge of a deep valley. Before us, the road just dropped. Billy didn’t slow the car at all. We cruised right over and down the steep dip. Then we rounded a corner, and through the trees, I could see the road wind down the valley wall, switching back this way and that, many twists. Below us, cars snaked along the narrow road. They looked like toys.
“How high up are we?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I guess about a thousand feet. We’re actually pretty near the ocean.”
We roared along. When we reached the first switchback, Billy braked hard and the tires squealed. As we rounded the bend, I noticed that there was no guardrail. An oncoming truck blared its horn. Billy’s eyes remained on the road.
“Do you drive this way a lot?”
“From time to time.”
His gaze remained fixed. The engine rumbled and coughed.
After curling through the valley and climbing the opposite slope, we turned left toward the ocean and arrived at a lonely bluff covered with withered patches of scrub and an old wood fence bleached gray by the sea breeze. Beyond the fence, where the bluff ended and the steep drop to the rocky shore began, a house stood, a ramshackle affair built of planks barely more sound than the surrounding fence. Through that fence, the gravel road passed a rusty mailbox on a bent post and led to the house and to a beat-up red truck. Billy pulled in and parked beside the truck.
“Is this your house, Billy?”
“Nah. It’s my dad’s house. Come on in and meet the family.”
His voice sounded strange, the way he said ‘family’.
We walked from the car to the house. As we did, I glanced at him, but he kept his gaze turned from me, toward the house and its sagging porch. And after we climbed up the short, rickety stairs, and as Billy pulled open the screen door, I wondered, was he poor?
The front door was stuck in its frame, and Billy had to put his weight against it. It popped open, and an appalling smell greeted us. I twisted my nose. Billy noticed and said, “That’s the dogs. We won’t be staying here long.” I followed him in.
First to greet us were the dogs. They were large and friendly looking — I guessed. One was yellow, the other black. They charged directly toward me, their paws scraping over the wood floor until they reached a dense, corded rug, which, for no evident reason, covered about a third of the room. When they neared me, the black dog stopped just short and let out a little cautious growl. The yellow one, on the other hand, charged all the way and shoved its nose up my skirt.
“Eeep!” Its nose was cold.
“Down Sally!” Billy commanded. The dog backed off.
Then from within the house, “Billy! Is that you?”
It was a man’s voice, equal parts gravelly and shrill. I heard feet clomp.
“It’s me Dad. We have a guest.”
“Oh?”
His dad entered the room. He was a small man, much smaller than Billy, but without any softness to him. His skin was weathered and blotched. He wore a sleeveless white shirt stained yellow. His shorts were denim cut-offs. Actually, he reminded me very much of the house he lived in: thin, ratty, with his structure bare. It wasn’t entirely clear how it all held together, but I imagined he’d been through a storm or two. His eyes were the lightest blue.
“Well, well,” he said. “What have you brought us?”
He leered at me with those cold, clear eyes.
“Dad, this is Amber.”
“Hello, Amber. I’m surprised to see Billy bringing a girl around. Ha! I was starting to think he was a faggot.”
I didn’t like him. I didn’t like the way he looked at me. “Hello Mr., uh — ”
“Mr. Cullens. And don’t tell me Billy hasn’t even told you his name.” He got close to me. The dogs cowered and fled the room. “You’re not a hooker, are you?”
“No, Mr. Cullens, I’m not a hooker.”
“Ah. So, are you his fag-hag?”
He laughed as if that were the funniest thing. But before I could answer, Billy did. “No dad, she isn’t my fag-hag. Amber is my lover. Right sweetie?”
“Yeah. I’m Billy’s lover.”
I would’ve lied even if I wasn’t. But it wasn’t a lie, I hoped. I hoped that Billy would love me, love me very much. I stood by him and held his hand.
His father blinked. “You expect me to believe this?”
Billy faced him head on. “I don’t care what you believe.”
His father turned his attention back to me. “Ha! He paid you something.”
Well, that was half true, I guess. Billy had paid.
Billy stepped between me and his dad. “Anyhow, I’m here to pick up some things and say bye to Mel. I’m moving out.”
“The fuck you are!”
Then the two faced each other. His father advanced, looking up at his son. He seemed ready to strike. Billy stepped back.
“You’re gonna leave the money,” the father said. “Half is your sister’s anyhow.”
“I’m not leaving the money, and if Mel wants her share, she can come to me when she moves outta here.”
“I’ll bust you, boy!”
Then I heard, “What’s going on?” A girl’s voice.
She entered from the hall. She was small and pretty, maybe sixteen, wearing a little tube top over firm breasts. Her hair was sandy brown and messy. She had on too much makeup, hot-pink lips and violet above her eyes. Her skirt was a bright magenta and shorter than mine.
“What’s going on, Daddy?” she asked.
“Your faggot brother says he’s moving out with the money. Oh, and he has a girlfriend.”
She looked at me, a hostile stare. She bit her lip and advanced.
“Well, she’s pretty. Sure she’s not a whore?”
“I think she is,” the dad said.
She got close. “What are you doing with my brother, whore?”
Billy got between us. “Amber, wait outside.”
“I’ll fuck them,” I said.
The room got quiet. From deeper in the house, I heard a dog whimper.
“I’ll fuck them, your dad and your sister, if they’ll be nice to you.”
The father’s response was immediate. “Hell yeah!” He came toward me.
The sister’s response was slow, but I saw it in her eyes. Her expression changed. She still bit her lip, but her eyes shifted and lit up.
“Where did you find her?” she asked.
Billy shouted, “Go outside, Amber! And no way! Don’t you touch her Dad.”
His father touched me, my breast, a sharp pinch.
“Those are some firm tits,” he said.
His sister began to draw close.
Billy shoved his father away from me. Then he grabbed my elbow and pulled me toward the door. “Go to the car!”
Fists flew. His father swung at him, a hard punch that caught Billy in the eye. “Ow!” he shouted as he spun into the wall. Then the sister leapt at me, clutched me, and tried to tackle me. But she was just a girl, lovely and soft, like me. I shook her off.
I didn’t want to shake her off. I wanted to get tackled and fucked. But I did as Billy commanded. I ran out the door and toward the car. He was just behind me, staggering and holding his eye. Behind him, his father charged out with a shout. “You stop, Billy!”
We made it. The car doors had locks, and I locked mine. Billy got in and locked his. His dad pounded on the window.
Then the engine rumbled as Billy started the car. Gravel shot out behind us as we pulled away.
“Fuck!” he said.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“I had no idea it would get that bad.”
We rounded a corner and began to descend the bluff. Once again, we saw the broad valley spread out before us.
“I think your sister’s pretty.”
Where the mouth of the valley met the ocean, a town sat astride the coastal highway, buildings on one side and a stretch of boardwalk along the other. It had five roads that ran inland from the main way and another two that ran parallel. Among the roads, the buildings sat scattered haphazardly, perhaps a hundred or more, shops and houses with red tile roofs.
We saw the town from above as Billy’s car descended the narrow road clinging to the valley wall. At a certain place, he turned off the road onto another. This new road led directly to the town.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“We’re gonna stay with my friend Dave. He’s got a house in town. He said he’d rent me a room.”
We reached, more or less, the floor of the valley. Here the road became flat and widened to four lanes. As we drove along, after passing over a small bridge spanning a dry stream, we passed a few houses with well-maintained fences and little orchards: avocado trees, I guessed.
“Is Dave nice?”
Billy didn’t answer right away. And maybe, I thought, that was a bad question. Finally, he said, “No. Dave isn’t nice. But he’s better than my dad.”
Soon enough, the town came back into view, but this time from ground level.
“Should I fuck Dave?”
“No. You mustn’t fuck Dave. You should only fuck me.”
Dave’s house was two blocks from the beach. It was a wood-framed bungalow set in a yard with more rocks than grass and a small van rusting in the driveway. Billy’s car rumbled up next to the van. It made a loud coughing noise when the motor stopped.
“We’re here,” he said.
He got out and walked to the door. I followed.
Inside, the house was small and horrible. There were a couple beige throw rugs over a chipped tile floor, a ratty couch and chair with stains and musty smells. To the left of the living room sat a kitchen. Its counters were covered by peeling vinyl with cuts and stains. Its cabinets had no doors. Dirty dishes were piled up in the sink. From where I stood, I could see no actual food. That was probably for the best.
Soon after we entered, Dave came out from a door to the right, his bedroom it turned out. He was a medium fellow, smaller than Billy, with a patchy bit of beard on his chin, a narrow nose, and thin, sneering lips. When he spotted me, he stopped and leaned to one side with his arms crossed. “Hey Billy. Who’s the bitch?” He had a nasally voice.
“Uh — hey Dave. This is Amber. Amber, Dave.”
“Hi Dave,” I said. I tried to smile. He didn’t pay much attention.
“Amber helping you move or something?”
“Nah,” Billy said, “she’s moving in with me.”
Dave blinked. “We didn’t talk about anything like that.” But then he looked at me — a long look, at my skirt and tits — not my face. “But I guess it’ll be fine.”
Billy grasped my arm. “Go to my room, sweetie. It’s in back.”
I went. Our room was a converted patio. There was a throw rug, a small cot big enough for Billy, but probably not for both of us, and a single dresser. I looked around. Then I poked my head back into the living room, where Dave had plopped down on the couch, his back toward me. Billy remained standing.
“Where will I sleep?” I asked.
Billy said, “I can buy a bigger bed after my next paycheck. Till then, you can sleep on the floor or the couch.”
“Ha!” Dave glanced at Billy. “She can stay in my bed. It’s big enough.” He turned to me with his arm resting on the back of the couch. “How’s that sound, Amber?”
“Dude, not cool!” Billy said. But then he was quiet. They both were.
“Billy told me I couldn’t fuck you,” I said.
“Oh?” Dave looked a little surprised. He glanced at Billy then back at me. “You’d listen to a guy who’d let you sleep on the floor? Where you from, sweetie?”
Billy shot me a panicked look. But I’m a clever robot. It was obvious he wanted people to think I was a real girl.
“Denver,” I said.
I hoped that Dave didn’t know a lot about Denver.
“How the fuck did you end up in San Vincente?”
Billy interrupted. “Amber, stay in the room. I’ll talk to Dave.”
“Heh. Trying to protect your girl. That’s cool.” Dave turned back to him. “You got any weed?”
“Nah.”
“Too bad.”
Then, as Billy plopped down in a chair across from Dave, I ducked back into the room. Then I stretched out on the tiny cot. Above me, the windows were open and the ocean breeze drifted through. I waited, feeling tingly and alone. I wished that Billy would join me.
The sun went down and shadows crossed the floor. Later, much later, Billy came in. He closed the door behind him.
“How are you?” he asked.
“Fine, I guess. Lonely and bored.”
“Sorry. I had to discuss things with Dave.”
I felt his weight settle down on the edge of the cot. It creaked.
“Do you wanna sleep on the cot?” he asked. “I don’t mind the couch.”
“Sure. That would be nice.”
“Alright. I’ll see you in the morning.” His weight lifted. I reached out to touch him as he moved away.
“Billy, would you fuck me first? — before you go?”
He got quiet for a long time, a shadowy blot in the cold, silent room.
“Please,” I said. “I’ve been waiting and waiting.”
Still, he remained quiet, unmoving. I lay and watched, hoping.
“Don’t you like me?” I asked.
“Sure. Yeah, I like you Amber.”
“But — well — do you like my body? Don’t you want me?”
“I think you’re beautiful.”
“Then don’t wait. Take me.”
He waited. I heard his feet shuffle.
“Billy, sweetie, fucking is what I was made for. If I don’t get fucked, I can’t be happy.”
Still, nothing. I rose from the cot and got close to him. Then I reached around him and felt his cock. He let me. He was tense all over, except there. But still, he let me.
“Come on to bed sweetie. I know how to make it hard.”
Again, he let me. I guided him to the cot, removed his pants, and sucked his cock until it was hard.
“Now fuck me,” I said.
“Will you get on top, like at the lab?”
I got on top, let it slip into me, and rode him slow and steady. Beneath us, the cot creaked and squeaked, creak, squeak, creak, squeak, over and over again.
“Don’t come yet. Tell me if you’re about to come and I’ll stop.”
He squirmed and moaned, but he did what he was told. “Oh baby! I’m close.”
I stopped and let him settle. Then I rode him again, and again he got close. We waited. I leaned over him and let my hair dangle onto his face. I shifted to put a nipple into his mouth. Soon, more fucking. Three more times, until he couldn’t hold out, and finally, he didn’t warn me. He shuddered and pumped me full of cum.
“Oh Billy! I was so close. Just a bit more.”
“Sorry Amber. Oh fuck that felt good.”
“Finish me off sweetie. Lick me there. That works.”
“Get off. I’ll use my fingers.”
He used his fingers. Then he went and slept on the couch.
I awoke the next morning when I heard someone rummaging around in the kitchen. It might have been Billy, so I dressed quickly to go catch him, but instead, he came to me. I was pulling up my skirt when he entered the room. I looked up with a smile. “Good morning, sweetie.”
“Hey. So look — I’m going to work and I want you to come with me.”
“Okay. Uh — ” He stood in the doorway with his hands in his pockets. He was wearing a tee-shirt and jeans. “Where do you work?”
“Down at the pier. There are some benches where you can sit.”
“How long?”
“All day. There are a few shops there, and a bookstore, so maybe you can read something. I guess.”
“Fine.” I put on my shoes.
Billy, it turned out, worked at a smoothie stand at the base of the pier. It was a free-standing building — tiny, round, made of plywood, shabby looking. There was a door in back and a counter in front. When we arrived, the place was closed up tight. The pier was empty, except for a scattering of workers opening up other places.
“You can wait at that bench where I can watch you,” he said.
The bench was one of many set opposite the pier. To the front, it had a clear view of his stand. To the left, the ocean.
“Okay.”
He went behind the building, through the little door, and I heard him clatter around inside. Soon, the wood panels that covered the counter were removed. From my spot at the bench, I watched him. He fumbled around through the cash drawer, rinsed the blenders, opened the coolers, and set out the dispensers for napkins and straws. Then, when everything seemed ship-shape and ready for business, he set himself down on a stool and waited.
I too waited, listening to the birds and the sea while the pier came to life. His first customers were a boy and a very pretty girl. They had surfboards. After they finished their smoothies, they lugged their boards down onto the beach and propped them up in the sand. There weren’t any waves.
Morning dragged along as more people arrived, families with kids; ladies in one-piece swimsuits who arrived in groups; teens, some with surfboards, most without; couples holding hands; and a scattering of weird old guys in shorts and Hawaiian shirts, who seems to stroll up and down the beach aimlessly. Everyone found their place, on the beach or the boardwalk, on blankets or benches or chairs along the pier — except the weird old men, who didn’t seem to want to find a place. And me. I’d been assigned my place. Billy served smoothies and watched me. We didn’t speak.
Soon enough, the boys discovered me. The first approached from the sand, strolling toward me with his hand above his brow to block out the sun. He was tall with a gigantic, toothy smile. He wore bright floral board shorts and a tan.
“Hey!” he said as he drew close. “What’s your name?”
“Amber.”
I glanced at Billy. He was serving a fat middle-aged lady, but his attention kept drifting to me.
“Well Amber,” the boy said, “I’m Tyler. You new around here?”
“Yeah.”
“Cool. So, do you got a swimsuit? You wanna come down and hang out with us?” He motioned to a group collected down near the water, boys and girls with coolers, beers, and blankets.
“No. I’m here with my boyfriend.”
“Oh?” He looked around.
“Him.” I pointed at Billy.
Tyler looked and seemed perplexed. Then he understood. “The smoothie guy? You’re with the smoothie guy?”
Billy was done serving the fat lady. His attention was locked on us.
“Yeah.”
“Uh — well — that’s cool. I guess.” He glanced at Billy again. “You can still come hang with us if you want.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
Tyler turned and jogged back to his friends. When he arrived, he told them something, about me, I guess, since they all looked my way. Then they peered at Billy. Then back at me. Soon, however, they seemed to forget about us. They talked and laughed and drank beers. One of the boys got up and chased one of the girls. He was lean, muscular, and his skin was bronzed. She was lean too, thin, sexy, and fair-skinned in her bikini. When he caught her, they fell in the sand, kissing.
Billy served smoothies and watched me. He watched other boys come, from the beach, from along the pier or boardwalk. Each was told the same thing, and each gave Billy a surprised look.
Lunchtime arrived. Billy gave me a smoothie. It had mangos.
Then into the afternoon, and the sun made its long descent from the top of the sky. The pier and the beach got lazy. There were people there still, but they moved less, made less noise. Except the children. Up the beach, a group of children ran, screamed, and laughed. A warm breeze drifted in from the Pacific. Billy’s sister arrived.
She strolled from across the main highway, wearing a bikini top, sneakers, and a skirt. Like the previous day, her hair was messy and she was made up like a little whore. She strutted up directly to Billy.
“Hey Mel,” he said.
She leaned against the counter with her back toward me. She raised one leg and balanced. “Hey brother.”
“How did you get into town?”
“Caught a ride with the Mickies. Gimme a smoothie.”
“Passionfruit?”
“Sure.”
Billy began to make the thing. While the blender ran, he watched her. When it stopped, he asked, “So, do you have a ride back home?”
“I was hoping to catch one with you.”
“I’m not going back there.”
“Oh. Well — no big. I’ll crash somewhere.”
He handed her the smoothie. She took a sip from the straw and glanced over her shoulder at me. “I see you brought your whore. Is that how you’re spending our money?”
“She’s not a whore.”
She gave him a pinched expression. Then she turned and walked toward me. “What’s your name again? — Amber, right?”
“Yes,” I said.
She arrived and plopped down next to me. Billy gave us a dim look.
“Passionfruit?” she said, holding the smoothie out to me.
“No thanks.”
She shrugged. “Half the money’s mine. I just want that clear.”
“What money?” I asked.
She let out a little harrumph. “Yeah, right! Maybe you’re not a proper whore, but there’s no way Billy’d get a girl like you without throwing some money around.”
It was true, of course, but being honest wasn’t an important part of being a robot. “I like Billy a lot. He’s beautiful.”
She blinked and harrumphed again.
Then we waited while Billy stared and his sister drank her smoothie. Soon enough, more customers arrived, a pair of gay boys in tight shorts. Billy served them.
“Mel?” I said. “Is it just Mel?”
“Melanie, actually, but Mel is fine.”
“Mel, please tell me about the money, for real.”
She curled up her legs and turned to me. “Really? You don’t know?”
“I really don’t know.”
“Fine. I’ll pretend to believe you. The money was our mom’s. She died.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. “No big. She left when I was like four or something.”
Another long drink of her smoothie, but I saw a feeling flash behind her eyes, only briefly, behind the caked makeup, the childish pout. I reached and touched, just her shoulder.
“Amber!”
Billy’s voice.
I withdrew my hand, but Mel looked at me with deep eyes. Slowly, she began to smile.
“Amber!” Billy again. “Don’t touch Mel. In fact, don’t even speak to her.”
Mel said, “Ha! As if!”
But I didn’t say anything. Mel looked at me, at my silent face. She waited, but I didn’t speak.
“Oh. I see. Really?”
Still nothing.
“Well, you’re an obedient girl.”
I blinked. Her face got hard. “That isn’t a compliment.”
Another customer arrived and distracted Billy.
“Fine,” she said. “But please, tell me one thing, where is Billy staying?” Silence. “Oh come on!”
I glanced at Billy, at his fat hand setting a smoothie on the counter. Then I glanced at Mel, her big eyes and her makeup, her pale thighs and her little skirt.
I whispered, “He’s staying at Dave’s house.”
She squinted and a smile crossed her face. Then, she gave me a peck on the cheek, shot up, and walked away.
“Later Billy. Later Amber. You’re beautiful.”
He just watched. I watched too, her little butt drawing away, and deep in my mind, my soul?, I began to wish for certain things, that things were different, that I was free.
I decided that I’d try to disobey Billy, little things at first, like whispering to his sister. I would try. I would see.
He worked until late in the afternoon when the sun began to set over the ocean. As it crept down and touched the far edge of the sky, and while I relaxed and watched and felt things, at that moment, he began to close the stand.
“Get ready to go, Amber.”
I sat quietly and watched, until he finished, locked the rear door, and approached.
“You ready?”
“I wanna stay and watch the sunset.”
He put his hand on my shoulder. “Come on. I’m hungry.”
I didn’t move. It was strange. I felt little impulses, little twitches. My body kept beginning to move. But I stayed, somehow.
“I’m gonna watch,” I said. “You go on.”
“Amber.” His grip on my shoulder tightened.
Then, without thinking, without stopping myself, I popped up from the bench. Fuck!
“Come on,” he said again.
This time, I followed him to his house. On the way he stopped and bought himself a burger.
The next day was a repeat of the first, and the day after that. Billy would fuck me, when I begged him enough. But he never held out until I came. Each time, he had to finish me with his fingers, and that he did without any joy or passion. He certainly wouldn’t lick me. And the pier. Long boring days at the pier. The beach kids, evidently, found it weird that I sat there day after day. They glanced, from time to time, with murmurs. On the third day, Tyler came up with one of the girls, Kayla — he introduced her. She was blond and pretty, a taller version of Hanna.
“Can we sit by you?” she asked.
“Sure. Please.”
She smiled. Tyler and her sat on either side of me. Then she asked, “Amber, are you okay?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“Look — we’re not gonna judge you. But it’s really weird that you sit here day after day waiting for — what’s his name anyway?”
“Billy.”
“Right.”
Tyler spoke up. “Amber, it’s cool if you’re dating Billy, but do you have any friends here?”
I shrugged.
“You should have some friends,” Kayla said. “You can hang with us. Billy can too.”
Then, Billy’s voice. “Amber! Don’t talk to them.”
They both turned their heads to find the source.
“What the fuck?” Tyler said.
I looked at my knees and said nothing. Moments passed. Kayla said, “Amber?” More time passed. I stayed quiet.
“Oh Amber!” Kayla exclaimed.
I tried to say something. I tried. Kayla was so pretty and seemed so kind. Tyler was magnificent. I looked at his shorts and imagined what his cock must be like.
I managed to say just a little, the smallest sound. I said, “Please.” Kayla touched me, her hand on my shoulder.
Billy said, “Amber!”
“Please,” I said again. “I can’t…”
Then I heard a slam. Stomping feet. “She’s mine. Leave her alone!”
Tyler popped up from the bench. “Dude, you can’t treat her this way.”
“She’s my girlfriend. Stay the fuck away from her.”
Kayla put her arm around me and pulled me to her. “We’ll leave her alone if she asks us to, but she has a right to have friends.” My arm was by my side, squeezed between us, between my blouse and her bare skin.
“Amber, tell her to leave you alone.”
Tyler got really close to Billy and looked right into his eye. From the beach, some of the other boys noticed and began to head toward us.
Billy met Tyler’s gaze, but only briefly. Then he glanced and stepped away. He fixed his eyes on me.
“Amber, say it.”
I said it. “Please leave me alone.” It came out like a whisper.
The other boys arrived, three of them. They surrounded Billy.
“She said to leave her alone,” Billy said. “Come on, this is none of your business.”
“You sure?” Kayla asked.
I gave her a pleading look, but I couldn’t say what I wanted to say.
“I’m sure.”
One of the boys shoved Billy on the shoulder, not hard, but enough that he stepped back. “Dude, you’re an asshole to her,” the boy said.
Billy tried retreating from the boys, turning this way and that, but they shifted place and kept him in the middle. His eyes darted about, glancing only briefly at each boy. He kept raising and lowering his hands, not all the way, to about chest level. I think he was waiting to get punched.
Kayla squeezed my arm. “Let’s leave them alone,” she said.
The boys seemed to listen to her. They backed away from Billy and he relaxed. Then they turned and jogged back to the beach.
Kayla remained next to me with Billy standing over us. She whispered into my ear, “I’ll find a way to help you.” Then she left me with Billy. He returned to the smoothie stand.