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Summercoast – Chapter 1

The ocean lapped gently, rhythmically, against the beach.  A fresh, salty tang filled the air with an undeniable feeling of happiness – happiness that could only come with a beach, full of people escaping everyday lives to lie out in the sun and relax.

A tall teenage boy with sunbleached blonde hair stood at the entrance to a building right near the beach, a frown on his face as he looked at the sign announcing “Summercoast Home for Children”.  I shouldn't be here.  I shouldn't be here ...

His stormy grey eyes flashed angrily, taking in none of the tranquility and beauty of the beach.  I can take care of myself!

The boy's gaze grew somewhat unsure as a middle aged woman with chestnut hair and a kind expression on her face made her way down the path towards him.  “Brandon?” She asked softly, shifting a tiny girl balanced on her hip.

Brandon nodded sullenly.  The woman held her hand out.  “I'm Lyn, the person in charge of Summercoast.”  She smiled at the boy who gazed so angrily back at her.  He nodded curtly, ignoring her hand, then looked down at his feet.

“I know you don't want to be here, Brandon.  And I'm sorry for .. the circumstances that brought you here.  But I – and the others – are here for you, to help you.”

“Do you think I want the pity of people who I don't even know?”  Brandon spoke harshly, hoping to shock her into silence.  Lyn only shook her head infuriatingly and offered to help him with his bags.  He ignored her.

The older woman turned and walked back up to the building, the child staring over her shoulder at Brandon with clear, green eyes.  Eyes that felt like they were staring into his soul .. but what does a little girl know?  He turned away and began lugging his bags up the path, bags that contained almost everything of value to him anymore.  Brandon felt tears pricking behind his eyes, threatening to spill down his tanned cheeks.  He sniffed angrily and swiped at his eyes.  I won't let them see me.  I don't want their pity.

He followed Lyn into a bright, airy hallway, crude, childish drawings pinned to sea-blue walls.  There was a gentle clamour of happy, contented voices – exactly the opposite to the way Brandon was feeling.  He groaned silently.  I'd be better off alone.

Brandon's feet followed Lyn's, all sound absorbed into plush carpet running all the way up the stairs as she showed him to a room, mercifully empty – though there was another bed in it and various rock band posters on the walls, showing that another person did live there.

“If there's anything you need, Brandon, just come down and see me or one of the other helpers .. and if you feel like meeting the other kids, we're having a game of volleyball on the beach.”

With a last smile, Lyn closed the door and left Brandon in peace.  Alone.  Finally.  He flopped down onto the bed designated as his own after dropping his bags on the floor.  A giant Greenday poster, signed by all of the band, stared down at him from the ceiling.

Brandon had longed for solitude for the last four weeks – but now he had been finally left alone, all his thoughts were racing, crowding in on him, emotions that he couldn't handle.  Didn't want to handle.

He got up and restlessly walked over to the mirror perched on top of an aging, scratched dresser.  Brandon's blonde hair was sticking up in all directions, making him look as though he'd just crawled out of bed, and his grey eyes were redrimmed and angry.  “Fuck this ..” he swore, giving the mirror a shove, so his reflection appeared distorted.

Stumbling over his bags, Brandon ran out the door, down the stairs – straight into another person.  Mumbling “sorry,” he looked up into the face of an extremely tall guy a few years older than himself.  “Watch where you're going, dude ..”  The guy's face had about six more facial piercings than could possibly be legal – nose, lips, eyebrows and chin multiple times – plus Brandon could hear him clicking a tongue stud against his teeth.

“Sorry .. I will next time ..” he muttered again, looking down.

“You're Brandon, the new guy, right?”

“Yep.”

“I'm Jay.  Sorry to hear about your dad, mate.  I lost my mum in a crash too.”

“Thanks, Jay.”  Brandon wanted nothing more than to sidle away from this guy, away from the pity in his voice – even though it was slightly comforting to meet someone who was going through almost the same thing as himself.  He felt Jay's hand on his shoulder.

Shrugging his blonde fringe out of the way, Brandon looked up into his kind face.  “It's hard, Brandon.  But you'll make it.  Believe me – there isn't another choice.”

He couldn't take it.  Shoving Jay aside, Brandon dove down the stairs, looking wildly around before running out an open glass door onto a porch which overlooked the beach.  Breathing heavily, trying to keep any emotion out of his mind, he sat down on the porch and gazed out at the sea.

A movement from the corner of his eye caught Brandon's gaze.  As promised, maybe twenty of kids of different ages were playing volleyball on the beach, some kids not even tall enough to reach the net, some taller and easily able to see over.

One girl in particular with dark, olive skin caught Brandon's eye.  She was tall, maybe fifteen – a year younger than him, and had fantastic long, dark hair almost to her waist.  The girl was right in the middle of the game, full of energy and playing hard.  The ball flew over the net to her outstretched arms, and she spiked it powerfully back.  No one got near it as the ball touched down into the sand.

All the kids on the girl's team cheered – but what really caught Brandon's attention was the huge grin on her face as she high fived a lanky guy with bright red hair, styled in carefully moussed spikes.  The girl didn't say a word, but the grin of delight stayed on her face throughout the twenty minutes longer the game went on.

No one on the other team seemed too miffed – apart from a thin girl with blonde hair and icy blue eyes.  She had a great body – and made the most of her assets – almost falling out of a skimpy pink bikini.  Wow .. Brandon caught himself thinking.  At least girls could take his mind off what a mess his life was in.

As the two teams dispersed, grabbing water bottles and iceblocks from the side of the sandy court, Brandon prepared to sneak away.  Unfortunately, before he could get more than two steps away from the porch steps, Lyn spotted him and called him over.  “Brandon!  Come and meet the others.”

Lyn clapped her hands to get attention, and the group of kids and teenagers fell silent.  Brandon stood beside her, scowling at the audience while trying hard to resist the temptation to turn and bolt back to the house.

He noticed that the pretty, dark haired girl from before wasn't even watching Lyn.  She was looking intently at the guy with spiky red hair sitting beside her.  The guy himself was resting one arm on the girls legs, a relaxed expression on his face as he gazed at Lyn.

“I'd like you all to welcome Brandon, out latest addition to Summercoast.”  And that was .. it.  She didn't say anything more.  Bran has assumed she'd say it out loud, warning everyone.  His father's DEAD.  Yes, that's right.  He's contamined – dangerous.  He'd expected a big neon arrow pointing to him – KEEP AWAY.

But maybe it was worse this way.  He could imagine it already – Lyn whispering quietly behind his back.  Chinese Whispers.  Pass it along, furtive looks behind their eyes as they strained to avoid his gaze.

Brought out of his reverie, Brandon noticed that Lyn was gesturing for him to sit down.  He looked for the closest space and sank down, the sand gritty against his legs – right next to the boy and girl he'd been staring at before.

The boy looked him over lazily, raising a hand in greeting.  Bran nodded, then found his eyes drawn again to the girl.  Her bright emerald eyes startled him as she smiled shyly – then looked away, still without saying a word.

He looked back to Lyn, still speaking.  “You older kids are allowed to stay out on the beach, but make sure you're back in time for dinner.  No one is allowed to go swimming, remember, without one of the helpers here.”  The younger kids, complaining, straggled back to the house.

“So, Brandon, is it?”  He looked up in surprise to see the punker holding out his hand.  “Alex – I'm you're room mate.”

“Brandon, or Bran.  I don't mind.  You're the Greenday fan?”  Bran shook Alex's hand.

“You kidding?  Coolest band ever!”

Alex was definitely enthusiastic.  Turning to the girl, he added, “This is ...”

“Jess,” she finished softly, speaking with an accent that Brandon couldn't place.  “Your name is?”  But she wasn't looking at Bran, but at Alex.

Brandon was confused – both Lyn and Alex had said his name several times.  Alex moved his hands rapidly in strange gestures, as Jess watched him, then nodded.

“Brandon,” Alex said, slowly, clearly.

“Brandon ...” Jess repeated, watching Alex's lips intently, then tracing a shape over her heart.

Alex looked back at Brandon, a strange expression on his face, one that Bran couldn't quite place.  An expression of almost pain.

“Jess can't hear you,” he explained quietly.  “But she can lip read a lot if you talk slowly and face her.  And jeepers, does she talk.  Mostly in sign language, but she can say a bit as well.”

She's deaf.  Brandon couldn't keep the expression of surprise off his face.  Both Jess and Alex noticed.

Deaf people aren't young and pretty and .. like Jess.  They're old and strange and ...

“She's not any different from you or me, Brandon,” Alex spoke.  “Just because she can't hear.”

“Of .. of course not.”

Alex stood up, dusting sand off his blue boardies and shrugging an orange t-shirt on that clashed dreadfully with her dyed red hair.  “C'mon, guys.  Dinner will be nearly ready.”

Bran stood too and offered a hand to Jess, awkwardly pulling her up.  Though she was tall, even standing up she only came to Bran's shoulder.  Looking him straight in the face, she spoke slowly but clearly.  “I am not .. an invalid.”

“Oh.  Of course not.”  Bran blushed.  Idiot.  Jess took the sting off her words by smiling at Brandon before touching Alex's arm and signing words to him, before smirking.  Alex grimaced and signed back.

“She says we're having chicken surprise for dinner.  Surprise is right – I almost cut my mouth open on a bloody bone last time!  But Jess actually LIKES it ...”

Description
Summercoast – Chapter 1

The ocean lapped gently, rhythmically, against the beach.  A fresh, salty tang filled the air with an undeniable feeling of happiness – happiness that could only come with a beach, full of people escaping everyday lives to lie out in the sun and relax.

A tall teenage boy with sunbleached blonde hair stood at the entrance to a building right near the beach, a frown on his face as he looked at the sign announcing “Summercoast Home for Children”.  I shouldn't be here.  I shouldn't be here ...

His stormy grey eyes flashed angrily, taking in none of the tranquility and beauty of the beach.  I can take care of myself!

The boy's gaze grew somewhat unsure as a middle aged woman with chestnut hair and a kind expression on her face made her way down the path towards him.  “Brandon?” She asked softly, shifting a tiny girl balanced on her hip.

Brandon nodded sullenly.  The woman held her hand out.  “I'm Lyn, the person in charge of Summercoast.”  She smiled at the boy who gazed so angrily back at her.  He nodded curtly, ignoring her hand, then looked down at his feet.

“I know you don't want to be here, Brandon.  And I'm sorry for .. the circumstances that brought you here.  But I – and the others – are here for you, to help you.”

“Do you think I want the pity of people who I don't even know?”  Brandon spoke harshly, hoping to shock her into silence.  Lyn only shook her head infuriatingly and offered to help him with his bags.  He ignored her.

The older woman turned and walked back up to the building, the child staring over her shoulder at Brandon with clear, green eyes.  Eyes that felt like they were staring into his soul .. but what does a little girl know?  He turned away and began lugging his bags up the path, bags that contained almost everything of value to him anymore.  Brandon felt tears pricking behind his eyes, threatening to spill down his tanned cheeks.  He sniffed angrily and swiped at his eyes.  I won't let them see me.  I don't want their pity.

He followed Lyn into a bright, airy hallway, crude, childish drawings pinned to sea-blue walls.  There was a gentle clamour of happy, contented voices – exactly the opposite to the way Brandon was feeling.  He groaned silently.  I'd be better off alone.

Brandon's feet followed Lyn's, all sound absorbed into plush carpet running all the way up the stairs as she showed him to a room, mercifully empty – though there was another bed in it and various rock band posters on the walls, showing that another person did live there.

“If there's anything you need, Brandon, just come down and see me or one of the other helpers .. and if you feel like meeting the other kids, we're having a game of volleyball on the beach.”

With a last smile, Lyn closed the door and left Brandon in peace.  Alone.  Finally.  He flopped down onto the bed designated as his own after dropping his bags on the floor.  A giant Greenday poster, signed by all of the band, stared down at him from the ceiling.

Brandon had longed for solitude for the last four weeks – but now he had been finally left alone, all his thoughts were racing, crowding in on him, emotions that he couldn't handle.  Didn't want to handle.

He got up and restlessly walked over to the mirror perched on top of an aging, scratched dresser.  Brandon's blonde hair was sticking up in all directions, making him look as though he'd just crawled out of bed, and his grey eyes were redrimmed and angry.  “Fuck this ..” he swore, giving the mirror a shove, so his reflection appeared distorted.

Stumbling over his bags, Brandon ran out the door, down the stairs – straight into another person.  Mumbling “sorry,” he looked up into the face of an extremely tall guy a few years older than himself.  “Watch where you're going, dude ..”  The guy's face had about six more facial piercings than could possibly be legal – nose, lips, eyebrows and chin multiple times – plus Brandon could hear him clicking a tongue stud against his teeth.

“Sorry .. I will next time ..” he muttered again, looking down.

“You're Brandon, the new guy, right?”

“Yep.”

“I'm Jay.  Sorry to hear about your dad, mate.  I lost my mum in a crash too.”

“Thanks, Jay.”  Brandon wanted nothing more than to sidle away from this guy, away from the pity in his voice – even though it was slightly comforting to meet someone who was going through almost the same thing as himself.  He felt Jay's hand on his shoulder.

Shrugging his blonde fringe out of the way, Brandon looked up into his kind face.  “It's hard, Brandon.  But you'll make it.  Believe me – there isn't another choice.”

He couldn't take it.  Shoving Jay aside, Brandon dove down the stairs, looking wildly around before running out an open glass door onto a porch which overlooked the beach.  Breathing heavily, trying to keep any emotion out of his mind, he sat down on the porch and gazed out at the sea.

A movement from the corner of his eye caught Brandon's gaze.  As promised, maybe twenty of kids of different ages were playing volleyball on the beach, some kids not even tall enough to reach the net, some taller and easily able to see over.

One girl in particular with dark, olive skin caught Brandon's eye.  She was tall, maybe fifteen – a year younger than him, and had fantastic long, dark hair almost to her waist.  The girl was right in the middle of the game, full of energy and playing hard.  The ball flew over the net to her outstretched arms, and she spiked it powerfully back.  No one got near it as the ball touched down into the sand.

All the kids on the girl's team cheered – but what really caught Brandon's attention was the huge grin on her face as she high fived a lanky guy with bright red hair, styled in carefully moussed spikes.  The girl didn't say a word, but the grin of delight stayed on her face throughout the twenty minutes longer the game went on.

No one on the other team seemed too miffed – apart from a thin girl with blonde hair and icy blue eyes.  She had a great body – and made the most of her assets – almost falling out of a skimpy pink bikini.  Wow .. Brandon caught himself thinking.  At least girls could take his mind off what a mess his life was in.

As the two teams dispersed, grabbing water bottles and iceblocks from the side of the sandy court, Brandon prepared to sneak away.  Unfortunately, before he could get more than two steps away from the porch steps, Lyn spotted him and called him over.  “Brandon!  Come and meet the others.”

Lyn clapped her hands to get attention, and the group of kids and teenagers fell silent.  Brandon stood beside her, scowling at the audience while trying hard to resist the temptation to turn and bolt back to the house.

He noticed that the pretty, dark haired girl from before wasn't even watching Lyn.  She was looking intently at the guy with spiky red hair sitting beside her.  The guy himself was resting one arm on the girls legs, a relaxed expression on his face as he gazed at Lyn.

“I'd like you all to welcome Brandon, out latest addition to Summercoast.”  And that was .. it.  She didn't say anything more.  Bran has assumed she'd say it out loud, warning everyone.  His father's DEAD.  Yes, that's right.  He's contamined – dangerous.  He'd expected a big neon arrow pointing to him – KEEP AWAY.

But maybe it was worse this way.  He could imagine it already – Lyn whispering quietly behind his back.  Chinese Whispers.  Pass it along, furtive looks behind their eyes as they strained to avoid his gaze.

Brought out of his reverie, Brandon noticed that Lyn was gesturing for him to sit down.  He looked for the closest space and sank down, the sand gritty against his legs – right next to the boy and girl he'd been staring at before.

The boy looked him over lazily, raising a hand in greeting.  Bran nodded, then found his eyes drawn again to the girl.  Her bright emerald eyes startled him as she smiled shyly – then looked away, still without saying a word.

He looked back to Lyn, still speaking.  “You older kids are allowed to stay out on the beach, but make sure you're back in time for dinner.  No one is allowed to go swimming, remember, without one of the helpers here.”  The younger kids, complaining, straggled back to the house.

“So, Brandon, is it?”  He looked up in surprise to see the punker holding out his hand.  “Alex – I'm you're room mate.”

“Brandon, or Bran.  I don't mind.  You're the Greenday fan?”  Bran shook Alex's hand.

“You kidding?  Coolest band ever!”

Alex was definitely enthusiastic.  Turning to the girl, he added, “This is ...”

“Jess,” she finished softly, speaking with an accent that Brandon couldn't place.  “Your name is?”  But she wasn't looking at Bran, but at Alex.

Brandon was confused – both Lyn and Alex had said his name several times.  Alex moved his hands rapidly in strange gestures, as Jess watched him, then nodded.

“Brandon,” Alex said, slowly, clearly.

“Brandon ...” Jess repeated, watching Alex's lips intently, then tracing a shape over her heart.

Alex looked back at Brandon, a strange expression on his face, one that Bran couldn't quite place.  An expression of almost pain.

“Jess can't hear you,” he explained quietly.  “But she can lip read a lot if you talk slowly and face her.  And jeepers, does she talk.  Mostly in sign language, but she can say a bit as well.”

She's deaf.  Brandon couldn't keep the expression of surprise off his face.  Both Jess and Alex noticed.

Deaf people aren't young and pretty and .. like Jess.  They're old and strange and ...

“She's not any different from you or me, Brandon,” Alex spoke.  “Just because she can't hear.”

“Of .. of course not.”

Alex stood up, dusting sand off his blue boardies and shrugging an orange t-shirt on that clashed dreadfully with her dyed red hair.  “C'mon, guys.  Dinner will be nearly ready.”

Bran stood too and offered a hand to Jess, awkwardly pulling her up.  Though she was tall, even standing up she only came to Bran's shoulder.  Looking him straight in the face, she spoke slowly but clearly.  “I am not .. an invalid.”

“Oh.  Of course not.”  Bran blushed.  Idiot.  Jess took the sting off her words by smiling at Brandon before touching Alex's arm and signing words to him, before smirking.  Alex grimaced and signed back.

“She says we're having chicken surprise for dinner.  Surprise is right – I almost cut my mouth open on a bloody bone last time!  But Jess actually LIKES it ...”