I take another sip of my beer as I stand there feeling satisfied with my response. It was the best way to put it. Truth is, I don’t really have a type. I mean, I’ve only dated one person in my entire 20 years in this world, and that didn’t fare too well.
“I feel like I need to know what your type is to know whether I’m different enough and can be that break you want. Gotta figure out if I have a chance,” he replies, and I can’t help but smile.
He’s so exceptionally smooth. “I meant I’m taking a break altogether, not just from my type but from all types,” I clarify, hoping he catches my drift.
“Ahhh, one of those,” he says, nodding slowly.
I watch him a bit, confused. “What do you mean ‘one of those’?” I ask.
“Someone broke your heart,” he says matter-of-factly. He said it with the same conviction he told me I wasn’t a student at his school. There’s no doubt in his words. But there’s also no judgment. If anything, the look in his eyes shows me I’m not the only one.
“You sound like someone who knows what that feels like,” I tell him.
He takes a sip of his drink. “Broken hearted people always find their way to each other. I guess misery really does love company.”
4 Ari Cole
I talk to Evan for longer than expected. By the time I realize how much time has passed, I notice the full moon lighting up the night and the fire that burns a little ways down the beach are entrancing.
The wind picks up and I shiver.
“Want to go sit by the fire?” He asks, pointing at where others are gathered.
“I really thought it’d be warmer here,” I tell him. I guess coming to Mexico in March isn’t necessarily asking for summer nights. I mean, it’s not cold, nothing like back home, but not hot either. I feel like I need a winter coat right now. It doesn’t help that we’re at the beach. Man, a warm blanket and bed would be so great right about now.
“Night time is the worst. I don’t know how people do it without wearing layers,” he tells me and that’s when I take in his hoodie and sweatpants. Not sure how I didn’t pick up on what he was wearing earlier, but I guess it was hard to with his flirting skills, baby blue eyes, and blinding smile.
I look down at my outfit choice and am disappointed. I should’ve worn something warmer.
“Tell me about it,” I tell him.
He takes in my appearance then smiles.
I watch as he takes off his hoodie to reveal yet another thick layer below it. “Here,” he says, handing it over to me.
“Are you sure?” I ask. I don’t make a habit of wearing strangers’ clothing, but I’m freezing right now, and he seems to have enough layers to dress three people.
“Yes, you look like you need it,” he tells me. “Take it.”
I don’t put up a fight. Instead, I grab the hoodie from his hand. “You have no idea. I usually wear more layers than this,” I tell him as I throw the sweater over my head and relish in its warmth.
“Let’s get you over to the fire and see if we can get you some hot legs.” The moment the words leave his mouth I watch as his cheeks redden. “Er— that’s–your legs are already hot. I mean, ah...” he stumbles through his words. “I’m going to shut up now,” he says and I laugh.
“I get it!” I tell him, cutting his misery short.
“Phew, thank you. I was struggling there,” he says.
I smile at him. “No problem.”
“So fire for warmth?” he says, and he looks proud to have finally gotten those words out.
I nod. “Fire.”
We walk over to where Mercedes and the guy she’s been making out with are talking by the edge of the water. “Hey, I’ll be by the fire,” I tell her, pointing at the group of people sitting around flames a few feet away. I want to make sure she knows where I am in case she needs me.
“We’ll join you in a few,” she tells me.
“Evaaaaaan!!” the guy, I think his name is Tyler if I remember it correctly, says when he notices him standing next to me. “My man!!!” he adds, way too cheery.
“Terrible Tyler!” Evan shouts back. I guess I was right about the name. “I’ll see you by the fire!”
Tyler nods and goes back to flirting with Mercedes.
Evan places his hand on the small of my back and leads the way. “I thought you said he wasn’t that bad and yet you call him Terrible Tyler.” I tell him.
“He’s not too bad, I swear. We just call him Terrible Tyler on the field,” he tells me.
I’m about to ask him what field he’s referring to when we reach the group and he starts to speak. “Hey guys, this is Streamline, she’s in the Air Force,” Evan says to the group, introducing me by the nickname I had shared with him when we were talking about my school.
“I’m not in the Air Force yet. I just go to the Uniformed Services University,” I correct nervously. “And my name is actually…”
“Ari,” a voice says, interrupting me and sending a familiar chill down my back.
I turn to my left and find the source of the voice seated on the sand in front of the fire with a girl between his legs and his eyes on mine.
I stop my mouth from hanging open at the confirmation of what I already know.
That voice… it belongs to only one person.
The source of a lot of pain.
The person who I gave my heart to.
The one who broke it.
The one
