You had no plan on being on the beach that random weekend, but you’re work needed you out there capturing photos for a news article. That’s when you ran into the red-haired surfer boy who flashed a toothy grin while riding his red and white board on the waves.
Surfer BF! Ejiro Kirishima spotted you on the shore, wearing clothes that were quite built for the beach. He thought it was cute and couldn’t remove his gaze off of you which led to him crashing and falling off of his board. He fell into the water, making you gasp a panicked look on your face.
Surfer BF! Ejiro Kirishima was fine and swam back to shore, his board at his side. All of his friends laughed at him and teased him for falling on such a simple wave, but he didn’t care. He pushed past them and ran over to the reporter, getting to know her. That’s how you’re guys relationship started.
Surfer BF! Ejiro Kirishima spends all of his time on that beach growing up nearby and having so many good memories there. One being where he met his partner. Every morning, he goes to the beach and takes his morning run. He jogs along the shore, listening to music and jamming out while the sun rises behind him. Sometimes you come with him and take photos of him running, capturing the moment where his muscles tighten and shine brightly with sweat.
From spending so much time on the beach Surfer BF! Ejiro Kirishima ended up getting TAN and I mean like deep sun kissed tan. He has a serious tan line where his swim shorts rest, the line being pale while the rest of him is toasted.
A few miles down from the beach is a pier filled with all sorts of shops and food places. Surfer BF! Ejiro Kirishima is a regular at each of them. He is so social and caring that every time the two of you walk into one of the places the two of you end up staying for hours just so he can talk with the owners and workers.
Speaking of being social, he ends up being friends with a bunch of the lifeguards who are also surfers. Surfer BF! Ejiro Kirishima introduces you to them and they shares all sorts of embarrassing stories of him crashing on waves and making a fool of himself. He doesn’t care though and laughs it off enjoying spending time with you and his friends.
Surfer BF! Ejiro Kirishima surfboard is red and white with a painting of a shark that was a dark red. It’s his first ever board that he bought on his own and the board he uses the most. When the two of you are on the beach, you take photos of him riding his board making sure to capture photos of him and the shark.
When he isn’t surfing, Surfer BF! Ejiro Kirishima is hanging out on the beach with you doing stupid activities. He’s the type of person to let you bury him deep into the sand and carve funky shapes above him.
If you don’t know how to surf, Surfer BF! Ejiro Kirishima would show you how letting you practice on his board. He would smile brightly, happy that you’re doing something that he loves. When you learn how to surf and give it a try on the water, he’ll be right beside you making sure nothing bad happens. When the two of you are done surfing, he’ll sit on his board with you and float around enjoying being in your presence. He’ll bring the board to the best spots to watch the sunset and let the two of you sit on the water, watching them together.
❀ surfer!ellie who meets you at an open invite bonfire. you were originally going to hang out with jesse, but ended up spending with ellie instead.
❀ surfer!ellie who first strikes up a conversation when she notices your shell bracelet, made with the same technique she used for hers.
❀ surfer!ellie who realizes you're in her oceanography lecture after hearing you complain about the professor, agreeing with you despite her positive opinion on him.
❀ surfer!ellie who doesn't take long to suggest heading to the water, the smoke from the fire pit bothering her allergies.
⁀જ➣ pairing: lifeguard!trinity santos x surfer!victoria javadi
⁀જ➣ warnings: language, drinking, smoking, a teensy bit of angst if you squint
⁀જ➣ description: what starts as a normal first shift of the summer for trinity, turns into her past resurfacing. she chases after the high that it brings her with encouragement from her roommate. with a new opportunity in front of her, trinity hopes that she is able to right some wrongs
⁀જ➣ word count: 10.5k
The heat of the morning is already pooling across Trinity’s skin, the beads of sweat rising and falling left in the dust. She can’t hear over the music piercing through her headphones, but she can only imagine the crashing of the waves in the distance. The pink and orange sky is reflected in the water making it the perfect backdrop for the early morning dog walkers and the runners just like her.
Her breathing is heavy with each pounding step against the concrete. The remnants of leftover sand scratch the bottom of her shoes. She dodges a few skateboarders as she nears the end of her three mile run.
Ever since graduation and summer began, Trinity has been trying to stay in tip-top shape. It’s her fourth summer in a row working as a lifeguard on one of the most crowded beaches in the area. For the amount she gets paid, she ensures that she’s physically at her prime— this involves running most mornings, a light swim, and more cardio during the week if there’s time.
Her steps slow to a complete stop after a few moments. She looks down at her watch, pressing “end workout” and takes a look at her vitals. With a pleased downward frown, she nods her head at her max heart rate, mileage, and calories. She swings and stretches her arms from side to side, working on a little cool down. She observes the flock of eager seagulls from one of the lifeguard towers, awaiting the swarm of people with food to offer up. She laughs to herself as she replays the memory of Dennis getting bombarded by the birds for his ham sandwich once.
After being satisfied with her morning workout, she walks the distance back to her car. The beat up black truck lays waiting for her in the back of the partially empty parking lot. Her hand grazes the worn out sticker on the tailgate door that reads “I ❤️your wife.” She decided that it was too ironic for her to rip off when she bought the old rig years ago. She fumbles for her bag in the middle of the bed and drags it towards her— everything she needs for the day haphazardly jammed inside.
She walks down the beach for a couple minutes before approaching the tower she would be assigned at. The ramp angles upwards to the door that she unlocks to reveal the tiny hut inside. Aside from a couple chairs sitting under a small desk, there is a phone, walkie talkies, binoculars, an old surf board, plenty of life jackets and life rafts, a first aid kit, and the keys to the ATV’s that they used once in a blue moon. She threw her bag on the desk and looked outside, taking in the view she’d be seeing for the next few months.
She looks through the contents of her bag, digging her dented, sticker-covered water bottle out, the protein bar she’s reserved for later, and a hair tie. Once settled in, she kicks off her shoes, then lifts her cropped tank top off and throws it on the desk. Next she unbuttons her shorts, letting them slip down her thighs and fall to the floor. All she is left in is the regulation red and white bikini with “lifeguard” written on the top.
The tower door slams shut behind her as she walks back down the ramp. Still feeling warm and thoroughly sweaty from her run, the water sounds like her best bet for recovery. Her feet sink into the dry sand as she walks down to the creeping water. The sky has lost its watercolor hue at this point in the morning with a blue covering the entire span, the sun still hanging low. Trinity observes a couple surfers already enjoying the coolness of the morning as opposed to the crisp heat later in the day.
As soon as her skin makes contact with the water, she dives head first into the first breaking wave. She lets the chill of the Pacific wake her up, fully engulfing her body below the surface. Her face is the first thing to rise to the surface again. She pushes her soaked hair back, then shakes the remaining absorbed water out.
She wades in the water for a bit longer, enjoying the calm before the chaos of the day starts. Jack and Parker would be checking in with her soon to make sure she was set for the busy season, so against her better wants, she walks back to the tower.
She’s sitting at the desk with her feet kicked up and her sunglasses propped on top of her hat when there’s a knock at the door. Trinity swivels the chair and stands to open the door, Jack and Parker standing on the other side. They’re all coordinating in their red and white uniforms of different styles. Jack is wearing red board shorts with a white t-shirt, while Parker is wearing a red tank top and red shorts. Everything is adorned with “lifeguard.”
“About time you two showed up.” Parker lets herself all the way in to sit on the desk, while Jack leans against the door frame.
“That’s what happens when people decide to be stupid so early in the morning,” Parker says, crossing her arms together.
“What was it this time, blacked out incels? A hoard of feral cats?” Trinity asks nonchalantly. The truth is, it could quite literally be anything. She’s seen everything.
“The Shoveler,” Jack answers.
Trinity deadpans before letting out a cackle. “Seriously? This is still a thing? I thought they would’ve lost spirit by now- can we circle back to the name though… The Shoveler? They have a whole ass trademark now?”
“I think I actually saw somebody down by the pier selling merch,” Parker says while pointing her thumb somewhere behind her. Trinity can’t help but laugh at both the pure immaturity and genius it was.
“It’s not funny… it’s a serious problem that fucks with the sand. Do you know how many people fall into the holes? How many we have to fill?” Jack rebuts.
Trinity’s lips are sealed together in an effort to hold back laughter that’s threatening to escape. “Well maybe people should watch where they’re going— get a little more familiar with the holes.” She regrets the words right as they tumble out of her mouth.
Parker looks down at her feet, her shoulders shaking while she covers her mouth. “You’re bad for that one.”
Jack shakes his head and poorly tries to hide the smile across his face. “Might just need one of those shirts though.”
Their attention is pulled at the sound of a child screaming. Trinity stands up from her chair, all of their eyes focused on a toddler running down the beach with what looked like fruit. Stalking right behind was a hungry seagull that followed the child too close for comfort.
“Another day, another dollar,” Parker scoffs. “I’ll see you around T.” Trinity holds out her hands, doing a handshake with her. Parker was the trainer in charge of Trinity when she first got this job, so they naturally grew closer with each year.
“See ya.”
Jack still stands in the doorway, one hand resting on his hip. “You all set in here? Radio and walkies up and running?”
Trinity grabs her walkie talkie and presses the side button to talk. “All clear and ready to go captain,” she says in a funny voice, the sound echoing through Jack’s walkie talkie clipped on his fanny pack.
“If you need anything, we’ll be around.” He says it casually as he’s leaving, but he knows that Trinity knows her way around.
She’s left to her own company again.
The morning passes slowly, mainly being taken up by groups of families setting up spots for the day. The beach is covered in multicolor umbrellas and tents to shield the sun by noon. There’s already way too many screaming children by Trinity’s standard. She’s too scared to admit it, but children scare her, especially with her job. They’re too much of a liability— one wrong move and they could meet their demise. They’re a ticking time bomb in her mind. They’re also extremely gullible.
“Hey!”
Trinity hears a small voice yelling from somewhere. She sighs and stands, looking out from her perch. Nothing.
“Hey!”
She hears it again, this time looking down from the open window. Looking upwards back at her is a small boy. His goggles are pushed up chaotically on top of his head and the red indents left around his eyes were intense.
“Hey miss!”
Trinity eyes from side to side to make sure he’s got the right person. “Uh… yeah?”
“I think there’s a shark out in the water.” Still staring right at her, the boy points out towards the shark-free water that Trinity has been staring at all morning.
“I can promise you, there’s not.”
“There is too, I saw it with my own eyes— even touched me. Thought I was gonna die.”
Trinity smirks. “How can you be sure?” She may not love kids, but they’re sure as hell fun to mess with.
“You calling me a liar, lady?”
“Not necessarily… where did you see it?” The boy finally turns his head to face the water, gesturing where said shark was seen. “I guess you’re going to have to show me so I can be sure.”
Trinity smirks as she walks down to the beach from the tower. The boy immediately darts towards the water and Trinity jogs along behind him. He takes a few steps into the ocean, enough to reach his knees and then points. “Out there!”
Trinity walks a bit farther past him looking out into the water. Of course, she sees nothing.
“Farther!”
She rolls her eyes a little at how much effort she’s exerting into this. She’s about waist deep now and still pretending to look for the shark that isn’t there.
“It was right there!”
Trinity points in the water. “Here?”
“Yeah, it touched my leg right there!”
One last time, she looks around her and then ushers her final blow. “I don’t see any-”
She jerks her arm under the water, her body following until she’s completely under. She can hear the boy scream and she feels a little bad, but not bad enough to care. After a few seconds she jumps out of the water, making him scream again.
She laughs. “Relax, kid. I was just messing with you. No sharks spotted.” He stands there in disbelief before tears start rolling down his face. He runs away crying and Trinity sucks in air between her teeth, grimacing. “One out of five stars for that one.”
Once he’s out of sight, she looks down at her watch to view the time. It’s a few minutes past her allotted break time so she treks back to the tower to fetch her things. She slips her tank top back on and puts on some swim trunks so she doesn’t feel so exposed.
Grabbing the walkie talkie she speaks into it. “Parker, Jack, you there?” She waits a beat before there’s an answer.
“What’s up, T?” Parker’s voice comes through as static.
“I’m gonna take a thirty, you good over there?”
“As good as we’re gonna be, we got you.” Trinity can hear Jack yelling on the other end as Parker talks.
She clips the walkie talkie to her trunks in case she’s needed while she’s away and starts walking.
Her usual lunch spot is about a ten minute walk from her post. She’s getting close when she can hear the mix of Santana and the Red Hot Chili Peppers. There’s a few people sitting at the bar facing away from the beach with a man behind the counter.
“Hey Krakozhia,” Trinity greets before taking a seat herself. “How’s it hanging?”
He starts shuffling behind the bar, making her usual. “Same shit, different day.”
Trinity chuckles. “Cheers to that. Huck, are you back there?” From behind the shelves of liquor, Dennis peeks around the corner. “What’s up?”
“Promise you won’t laugh,” he asks.
“We’re not off to a strong start, so I’m not promising anything.” He sighs and fully rounds the corner, his white apron decorated in all kinds of colorful liquids. “Try to turn yourself into a Jackson Pollock painting?”
“The top on the blender wasn’t exactly secured…”
“Damn it man, again?” Mr. Krakozhia pinches the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut.
“Remember— the house, the van… the house, the van. It’ll be worth it in the end keeping his sorry excuse for a handyman,” Trinity whispers to him. It’s honestly something she has to remind herself of.
Trinity and Mr. Krakozhia have been acquaintances for several years, as she’s been a frequent flyer at his shop. Whether that’s stopping for a bite to eat, visiting on her lunch break, or needing something strong after a long day. As she prepared for graduation she knew she needed a place to stay, he offered up a, for a lack of better words, pile of shit. It was an old beach house that had been locked up for years. It needed work, along with a couple more helping hands.
Trinity met Samira in college and hit it off over the course of four years. First, Trinity dragged Samira into the whole deal, telling her it would be worth it, and what better way to spend their young adulthood than cleaning up a (most likely) mold filled shack only a short walk from the beach. They got to work on it almost immediately so it was move-in ready. Then there was Dennis.
She met him on a whim one summer when he was with his family. She watched his older brothers pick on him all day, throwing him to the sand and taking his food. Each day seemed to hold new opportunities. A smoothie being spilt all over him, a boogie board smacking him in the face, or getting caught in a small riptide. After that, she would see him periodically taking trips to the beach by himself. When curiosity got the best of her, she approached him and started talking. She would poke fun at him but nothing that caused too much harm. Truthfully, she felt bad for him. That’s when she begged Mr. Krakozhia to hire him. He proved to be a shitty bartender, but a shitty bartender was better than no bartender.
Plus, it’s hard to argue when she’s the one paying his part of rent. That and Trinity volunteered him to be the house handyman and mechanic if Krakozhia threatened to fire him. The idea was sparked when she saw the potential in the 50 year old van sitting under the carport. Most days after work, she finds Dennis stuck underneath the van, tinkering with it.
Mr. Krakozhia slides a smoothie Trinity’s way and she doesn’t miss a beat before diving in.
“Why don’t you go on break, Whitaker,” he tells him. He looks solemn before lifting the apron over his head and placing it somewhere behind the shelves. He lifts the countertop barrier and walks around to sit next to Trinity.
“Rough day?” she asks, then grabs her straw and takes a few more drinks. It doesn't last long before it’s snatched out from under her and she’s left frozen in the same position, as if she’s still holding onto the cup. Dennis lifts the cup to his lips and takes a long drink without the straw. “Rough life?”
Her break is short lived and soon enough she’s back keeping watch from above as more people crowd the beach. Though her official job is the safety of the general public, she likes to think her unofficial role of a people watcher is more important. Where else would she get the pleasure of seeing kids throwing up after getting in the water too soon after eating, or watching family fights unfold in front of her.
As the heat of the afternoon reaches its prime, the water is full of anxious surfers waiting to spot any eligible wave to ride. Since they’re all searching for the same thing, it occasionally turns into a battle for dominance as some beat others to the punch.
Trinity’s been watching two separate groups out in deeper water. One being a few guys off to the left who seem to be oblivious to every other person out on the water, and another being a few girls and a guy off to the right. She can hear all the way on the beach that there seems to be some kind of confrontation every once in a while. This usually seems to happen after one of the girls off to the right rides one of the bigger waves— very skillfully Trinity might add.
As she squints off in the distance, a bigger wave is rolling in and she knows it’s going to be good. The girl watches behind her as the wave creeps up on her, waiting for the perfect moment to paddle and let the water carry her. She sees it. The wave is rolling closer and closer as she picks up the pace, her arms moving quickly through the water. She takes the chance as her board cruises on top of the crashing wave.
Her fan club off to the side claps and cheers as she takes a flawless wave. Trinity feels like she needs to join in, but she settles for a downward smile and an approving head nod. The celebration is short lived when Trinity spots one of the surfers off to the left heading her way, faster than she would be able to ride away from. The guy rides next to her for a moment before snapping his board in her direction, the end hitting her and knocking her off.
Trinity springs to action, standing up fast enough that her chair slams into the wall behind her. She grabs a life raft with fumbling hands and runs outside. The beach feels a thousand miles long as she blows her whistle and jogs closer to the water. By the time her feet are splashing in the sand, the girl appears out of the water. She may be coughing and limping slightly, but she looks reasonably sound.
“Fucking dick!” she angrily spits once she’s clear of the water. She keeps walking until the sand is dry and it’s clear of other people. She slams one side of her board into the sand so it’s propped up before falling back into the sand. Her hands run through her dark, curly hair, squeezing some of the water out and kicking her feet out in front of her.
“Uhm, ma’am? Are you alright?” Trinity hesitantly asks. The girl whips her head around and wears a disbelieving expression like a bolt from the blue.
“Ma’am? Do I look-” She stops mid sentence to stare at Trinity with wide eyes. Trinity couldn’t read her reaction— her face reads of confusion, disgust, and intrigue. “Oh my god… Trinity? Trinity Santos?”
Now Trinity gets to be the one that’s shocked. It’s not very often that someone she can’t recognize calls her by her full name. “Depends on who’s asking,” she responds while looking at her quizzically.
“Victoria?” She places a hand on her chest. “Victoria Javadi?”
It takes Trinity a moment before everything registers. Looking her in the eyes now. She sees images of swinging at afternoon recess and getting too sweaty by the time it’s over. Competing in the school spelling bee and losing over a stupid word she knew like the back of her hand. Eating lunch outside and stealing bites of her food while she whined in protest, only making Trinity giggle.
Then she remembers how it changed. She became angrier— pushing her away. Harmless teasing turned into tormenting. She isolated herself in hopes of fixing it. She never saw Victoria again…until now.
Trinity plays dumb. “Not ringing any bells.” She shakes her head slowly with her lips forming a straight line. Her arms are crossed and she’s holding strong in her stature.
Victoria glares at Trinity, scanning over her body and studying her. An unfamiliar feeling passes over Trinity, making her shift from side to side.
Victoria stands, walking over to face Trinity to match her posture. “I know your games, Santos. You can’t fool me.”
Trinity smirks. “And here I was thinking my performance could win me an Oscar.”
“You’re not funny,” Victoria says expressionless. She turns her body to face the water, most likely looking out for the rest of her crew. Trinity takes her turn observing the girl who had become a stranger right in front of her. There’s no doubt that it did in fact take Trinity a moment to recognize the girl. After all, it’s been over ten years. Victoria’s not the same girl she once knew, that’s very clear.
The Victoria that Trinity remembers isn’t the one standing before her now, but she’s still a part of their story. She remembers the oversized Hannah Montana backpack that used to swallow her as she roamed the halls. The way her hair used to smell so sweet and stayed perfectly braided all day. Her extensive Littlest Pet Shop collection that Trinity was always envious of. The part she remembers most is how safe Victoria made her feel; until she ruined it like she ruins everything else.
Her features look matured now, of course. Her salted hair waves down her back and sits a few inches above her waist. She’s wearing a matching Roxy rash guard and swim shorts in pink and brown, something that looks like it was made twenty years ago. One of her wrists along with one of her ankles are stacked with a few bracelets that looked homemade. Trinity smirks when she notices that both sets of her nails are neatly painted the same color, but her smile fades quickly.
“Shit, your leg!”
Victoria looks down and doesn’t react. “No need to cause a scene. I’ll be fine in a few days.”
“Not what it looked like out there, little miss crash and burn.” Trinity scoffs and follows Victoria’s eyes to stare out towards the water, but Victoria breaks her intense stare to look at Trinity.
“You look different.”
Trinity side eyes her. “That’s what a little food, water, and character development does to you.” Victoria keeps her eyes glued to Trinity, almost as if she’s waiting for her to keep talking.
She would, except she doesn’t quite know what to say.
Hey I’m sorry I dropped off the face of the earth and never explained to you why I left and why it’s not your fault?
I thought about you everyday but it hurt too much to try and go back to the way it was.
I miss you.
After a few beats Trinity clears her throat. “You can ice your leg a few times a day for about twenty minutes each. Should reduce blood flow so it heals faster.” She’s walking away a little by little as she’s talking.
“I know, I’m kinda used to this sort of thing. I just need-”
She’s cut short by the rest of her group coming back out of the water. It looks almost like a scene out of Baywatch.
“Vic, are you okay? That douchebag hit you pretty hard,” the guy asks her. He grabs onto her shoulder and looks into her eyes and Trinity can only assume it’s Victoria’s boyfriend. He has longer hair that’s curled around his face, and stubble that’s trimmed short.
There’s two other girls trailing behind him and Trinity uses that as her cue to leave. She looks at Victoria once more before departing back to her post. It’s only when she turns that she misses that Victoria is staring right back, tuning out the voices around her as she watches Trinity leave.
The rest of Trinity’s shift goes by in a blur. Between the chaotic beach goers and the dissociative state that she finds herself in, she’s been mentally clocked out for a few hours. She practically bolts the minute her shift is over.
Her finger effortlessly pulls the hair tie out of her hair that’s half up. She shakes her head, letting the dark strands fly out in every which way before shoving each side of her hair behind her ear. The parking lot that was once empty this morning looks more like a can of sardines with each car trying its best to take up every inch of space. It was why Trinity always parked far in the back.
She pops the handle of the driver’s side door and throws her bag across into the passenger’s seat. Before driving away, she sits in the muffled silence away from the screaming people. She’s spent so much time trying to run away from her past that one outlier has finally found her again. An unexpected outlier, not a terrible one. Regardless, she still feels the need to process it, so she decides to confide in the one person who always seems to have the right answers.
The drive is short, only made longer by the crosswalks taken up by tourists walking by. She passes the beach first, the fancy hotels next that think charging over $700 a night for one bed is cheap, then the main strip full of stores that could wipe a debit card clean. It makes Trinity’s face recoil in disgust. People that shop there will have more money than she would ever see. The only good thing about the price is the amount they pay their employees.
She finds the first street parking spot she can, pulling her truck in and putting it in park. It’s obviously out of place compared to the Mercedes and BMWs that line either side of the street. She passes the familiar storefronts until she faces the building on the corner. The brick is painted a lifeless beige color with a black and white striped awning to shade the entrance. The sign reads “COVE” and they sell exactly what one would expect.
Through the open double doors Trinity can feel the air conditioning wafting out onto the street. She enters and feels a gust hit her face; she sighs in relief.
Once inside, she starts looking for the familiar head of dark curls so she doesn’t have to spend longer than she has to inside her worst nightmare. Groups of girls stand in front of different racks full of swimsuits and flowy blouses. Faint pop music plays above on the speakers hanging in each corner.
“What are you doing here, Trinity?” a voice behind her asks.
Trinity sighs and rolls her eyes before turning around. “Well, coming to see your smiling face of course. Why else would I come into this lovely establishment, Rachel?”
Standing in front of Trinity is a woman a couple inches taller than her. Her long, highlighted blonde hair is pulled tightly back into a low bun, making it look like she’s already started her journey with botox. Though Trinity knows the woman doesn’t care about her opinion, she still thinks that her light blue blouse washes her out.
“Sarcasm isn’t a good look on you,” she says, her arms knitted together against her chest.
“Really? I thought it fit perfectly.” Trinity shakes her head and smiles, one of her hands grabbing onto a nearby rack to lean against it.
Rachel scoffs. “You’re getting sand everywhere.”
Trinity looks down at her sand covered feet. “Damn, it’s almost like we live near the beach. I know that’s a crazy-”
“Hey!” Another voice pipes up from somewhere— the voice Trinity was searching for before being rudely interrupted. She turns to see Samira with an uncomfortable toothless grin on her face.
“Right in the nick of time,” Trinity says sarcastically. “I was just about to explain North American geography to Rachel here since she seemed to forget.” Samira pulls on Trinity’s shoulder, tugging her backwards while issuing her final blow.
Once out of sight, Samira and Trinity face one another. “Why do you always insist on antagonizing my boss?”
Trinity rolls her shoulder from the grip Samira had on her. “I’m just trying to loosen her up, she’s such a bitch. I don’t know how you do it, Mir.”
“It pays the bills, doesn’t it?”
“You got me there,” she nods once and points to her.
“Not to sound unhappy that you’re here, but why are you here?”
“Assignment failed,” Trinity concurs. “Just came to chat, you know…the usual.” In a very unusual fashion, she looks absentmindedly through the rack of clothes beside her.
Samira can see right through her act. Her hands are resting on her hips as she eyes her. “Right… ‘the usual.’ What’s up?”
She shrugs and shakes her head. “Nothing much, just processing the fact that I saw my childhood best friend after more than a decade and I didn’t even recognize her.” Trinity doesn’t look Samira in the eyes as she’s telling her what’s been plaguing her all afternoon.
“Victoria?” she asks, almost at a whisper like someone would hear.
Now Trinity looks at her. “Uh, yeah. How did you remember that?”
“Believe it or not, I do tend to listen when you talk to me.” Samira has that look on her face— one that resembles a mother, a deep affection and comfort. “Are you okay?”
Trinity shrugs. “I guess so. It just feels weird…seeing her after all this time, especially with how I left things.”
“That makes sense,” she nods. “Did you guys talk?”
She shakes her head, still fiddling with the hanging clothes. “Not about anything of substance. She seemed just as surprised as I did. I wasn’t really sure what to say to her, plus her little entourage interrupted our heartfelt reunion.”
Samira hums. “Did you-”
“And can I just tell you how pretentious they all looked running out of the water with their surfboards. It felt like I was in The O.C. or something.”
“Were you-”
“So not what I expected her boyfriend to look like either. I can’t picture her going out with someone with a man bun.” Trinity’s face winces at the mention of his hair.
“Wait, what did you say she looked like?” Samira finally interjects. Trinity describes Victoria’s appearance, as well as the outfit she was wearing. “And you said the guy had long hair, right?”
“Yeah…what, are you planning on drawing a sketch to hand in to the police so you can track them down?”Samira is smiling mischievously and turning her head side to side slowly. “Whatever that is, I don’t like it.”
“No need to try and hunt them down, I know where they’re going- or I will once I look up Victoria’s address.”
Trinity blinks rapidly and her eyes widen. “And why the hell would we want to do that?”
“They came in here today,” she says as if that solves the mystery of the bush Samira is beating around.
“Okay…” Trinity urges.
“I think they’re having a party at Victoria’s tonight, and I think we should go.”
Trinity stares at Samira like she’s a stranger. “Come again?”
“We need to go.” Samira is fired up, like this is the one thing she’s been waiting for. “It’s perfect. You didn’t get to talk to her, so you didn’t get closure. We go, have a good time, you two talk and make up and then boom.”
“Boom?”
“You guys become friends again, duh.”
Trinity squints, confused. “I’m not sure if you heard me the first time when I described her whole posse, but it doesn’t sound like we’re much of a match anymore.”
Samira squares her up. “Then let me raise you this; did you guys ever truly have anything in common? From what I’ve heard, you’ve always been like this,” Samira’s finger points over Trinity’s frame, scanning her up and down, “and Victoria’s been like that. I think you guys have always been opposites. There’s something to be said about that.”
“I know that wasn’t supposed to be an insult, but ouch.”
Samira sighs. “Come on, Trin. This could be just what you need.”
“I don’t know,” Trinity whines.
“Then let me raise you one more proposal.” She pauses for dramatic effect. “Nothing tastes as good as free drinks.”
Trinity thinks for a moment. They could go for a few minutes— if it’s lame they leave. They could show up and it’s actually really good and Trinity leaves better than she came. It could also go really bad. Victoria could be angry and the beach earlier that day was just her being courteous. All of the ‘what if’s’ play in her mind.
Samira impatiently waits for a response. Trinity raises her head and paints a small smile on her face. “You know I never turn down free.”
“Then it’s settled. I get off in an hour, we can get ready then.” Samira is already walking back onto the floor away from Trinity to pretend like she’s been working.
“We don’t even know where it is!”
Samira turns back once more. “Yet.”
By the time Trinity pulls in, Dennis is already home. She can tell from the outside that he has turned on all of the lamps instead of the overhead lights, something that Trinity trained him to do. The warm glow radiating from inside their home drew her in, making it much less desirable to leave for the night. With everything gathered from her truck, she walks towards the front door. The house is nothing special to look at, but the charm surrounding it is something to marvel at.
At the end of a dead end street lies their small slice of beach paradise. The grounds were unkept and the outside looks like a delinquent teenager’s dream. Up until they moved in, it was completely abandoned. Trinity’s determined to restore it back to its original glory in time. She has a habit of trying to fix things, so the house is no different.
Each step closer to the front door brings her closer to the music that’s playing through the open windows. Of course, it’s Dennis’ choice of music which makes Trinity feel like she’s at a shitty disco. She opens the door and is greeted with a clatter of dishes.
“Mommy let you play in the kitchen again?” Dennis turns around at the sound of Trinity’s voice. “I told her not to leave you unsupervised.”
He gives her a wearily smile. “Ha-ha. I’m trying to find the pot with the black handle and the burnt bottom.”
“And it’s not going well?” she asks, multitasking and closing the door behind her with the slam of her foot.
“Clearly,” he sighs.
“Well, have no fear, Huckleberry. Put your measly pots and pans away, they’re no longer needed tonight.”
Dennis’ face is preparing for the ball drop, worried about what it could be this time. “Tell me it involves takeout?”
“More like night-out.” Trinity crosses the room, not looking at him. “Clean up, Huckleberry. We’re going to a party.”
“Seriously? That’s like the opposite of what I said.”
She throws her bag onto her bed from where she stands outside her room. “Good thing you were outvoted.”
“Who even is it? Were we invited?” he gestures with his hands.
Trinity throws her head back and groans. “God have you ever even been to a party.”
He takes a beat to think. “If a giant bonfire in the woods counts?”
“Minus one point for yeehaw talk.” Her face scrunches. “To answer your question, no, it doesn’t count. We’re going to change that tonight though.” Trinity smiles dangerously once more before disappearing in her room.
“What am I supposed to wear?” Dennis yells into the void with no reply in tow. She hears him but chooses not to indulge him yet, even if she’s planning on helping him in the end.
It would still be a little bit until Samira came home, so Trinity uses that time to her advantage. She strips off her clothes and suit from the day, replacing them with an oversized shirt and boxers until she decided on what she wanted to show up in tonight. The new clothes smelled of fresh lavender detergent, hugging her with comfort and leaving her feeling slightly cleaner than before.
Taking in the weight of the day, she falls backwards onto the bed and collapses. Her arms are sticking out on either side of her while she stares up at the ceiling. She focuses her attention on the peeling paint in the corner of the room to take her mind off of Victoria. That doesn’t last long— especially as a memory materializes, making her roll onto her stomach. She reaches for one of her nightstand drawers which contains the junk that Trinity has accumulated over the years. She doesn’t bother to clean it. They don’t call it a junk drawer for nothing, right?
She digs through random trinkets— her hands swiping over highlighters and pens, a receipt she swears she would always keep from the night Dennis ate so much crab rangoon he puked, and old, tangled headphones from when she had a headphone jack. There, at the bottom, she feels it. A small shiny stack of photos that are mainly full of people she no longer recognizes. She almost wants to laugh at the irony because of the day.
She starts to flip through the few photos she has. The first comes as a haunting reminder that never fails to sting. A woman that she once called her mother, cradling a smaller version of her in the woman’s arms. She lays in a hospital bed and Trinity drags her fingers over the picture as if it could talk, apologizing for the way things turned out. She moves the photo to the bottom of the stack, cramming her feelings down.
The next is a blurry picture that she wouldn’t be able to decipher if it wasn’t for the countless times she’s heard the story. It was an action shot, Trinity’s body is fuzzy and running away from the camera. Covering her face is the head of the mascot from her alma mater. From witnesses of that day, someone dared her after she had four too many drinks at the football tailgate to steal the head from the mascot. One, because no one knew who was under the costume and two, it was a stupid thing to do. It made sense when the friends she hung out with made stupid decisions for a living. The memory turns sour and she moves the picture to the back of the pile.
There are countless pictures that follow of the three of them, all of their stupid decisions captured in moments. With each shuffle through, the more disdain diffused off of Trinity’s face. She thinks that it may never end until her breath hitches, catching in her throat. The memory she was searching for, tangible between her fingertips.
It’s exactly how Trinity remembered her all this time. It was why she had so much trouble perceiving that same girl today because this is the Victoria that she knew.
Trinity and Victoria are standing next to each other in front of a sign that reads San Diego Zoo and they couldn’t be older than eight. She remembers it was a school friend trip and she ended the day with rainbow Dippin’ Dots spilled down her clothes. Victoria’s face is scrunched up with the biggest smile she could muster, her nose cutely wrinkled and hair is in her signature braids. She's wearing a long sleeve teal shirt with colorful peace signs scattered all over with matching earrings and a necklace. She looks more than happy to be wrapped in Trinity’s embrace.
Trinity’s arms are hugging around her entire upper body, capturing her in a tight bear hug with Victoria’s arms pinned to her side. As opposed to Victoria, Trinity’s wearing a faded Lakers shirt with her hair horribly parted too far to one side. While her smile isn’t as all consuming as Victoria’s, she’s more focused on her eyes and the direction they’re looking. She’s not looking at the camera, she’s looking at…
Victoria.
She’s looking right at Victoria.
Trinity suddenly feels overwhelmed by how much is happening. This is supposed to be her pile of forgettable instants that once were, not the pile of memories that come back to bite her in the ass.
She’s starting to get cold feet about the whole evening. It isn’t a good idea to go waltzing back into a life that’s already been lived. That chapter has closed and there’s no point in going backwards.
But still.
There’s an itch.
There’s an itch that Trinity desires so much to be scratched. Maybe it’s the imaginary life that she’s created in her head and could be if tonight works out. This time, she wants to have faith that life can go her way.
About an hour later, Trinity and Samira are in the heat of getting ready and they can hear Dennis pacing above. Both Trinity and Samira’s rooms are on the first floor, while Dennis took the loft above the kitchen and living room. Of course, that wasn’t by choice.
She and Dennis fought tooth and nail for the last room with a door, even going as far as making a pros and cons list. The last rebuttal that Trinity had in her back pocket would sting, but she thought it might be just what she needed to win her case.
Sex.
“Who could you possibly bring home?” she asked.
“Okay, ouch. Just because there’s no one right now doesn’t mean there won’t be someone,” he argued.
Trinity looked at him with her lips tucked into a straight line. “Alright,” she played defeat, “have it your way. I would suggest a monthly allowance for ear plugs then because god knows how the sound up there travels. Get ready to hear Trinity Santos’ game in high definition because I promise you I won’t take it easy just because I know you can hear everything.”
Dennis held out his hands in protest. “You win! Is that what you want to hear?”
“Yup,” she enunciated the p at the end with a pop.
The rest is history.
Trinity and Samira go back and forth into each other’s rooms asking opinions about clothes, hair, and jewelry. Not that Trinity cares. She definitely doesn’t care…
She walks in front of the mirror propped in the corner of the room and takes a look at what she’s working with. She picks a pair of baggy dark wash jeans that hug her just right around her waist, accompanied by a thick-strapped tank top that hits her where her jeans end. Her old reliable low top converse that she’s carried with her since high school are her shoes of choice, lastly topping it off with a baseball hat. She takes one last look, pushing her hair behind each of her ears.
“Do you think this is okay? Samira startles Trinity out of her thoughts. She walks into her room with short, frayed jean shorts and a tight halter top. She’s already done a light face of makeup in which she added some slightly holographic highlighter brushed on her cheekbones.
“You want my professional opinion?” Trinity asks, eyeing her up and down with crossed arms. Samira nods. “I would take you home. in. an. instant.”
Samira rolls her eyes and brushes her off with the swipe of a hand. “Please. I’m not trying to go home with anyone, I’m just trying to have a good time.” Her voice fades as she walks back into her own room.
“You could have an even better time if you keep wearing that,” Trinity pushes to no avail. “How’re things up there, Huckleberry?”
Dennis groans. “I don’t know what you wear to a party.”
“Anything but the cowboy boots, I beg.”
“They could be a good conversation starter,” he defends.
“What do you think this is? Speed dating?” She can hear his inaudible complaints from downstairs.
Once solidifying her outfit choice, she walks upstairs to try and ease Dennis’ mind, or at least make him decide faster.
“Okay, let me see what you’re working with and maybe I can help-”
“What are you doing!” Dennis grabs a dirty shirt off of his bed and covers up as Trinity summits the staircase.
“Relax, dude. I’ve seen tits before.”
Dennis wears a face of annoyance as he slowly pulls the shirt away from himself, now left in just boxers. Trinity pretends like she doesn’t even see him, walking right past to the clothing rack on the other side of the room. She digs through it, trying to find pieces that scream both Huckleberry and “please talk to me, I’m single.” It proves to be a difficult task.
“Love the Spider-man boxers by the way,” she snidely remarks with a smirk while still facing away from him. After another minute or two, her arm is holding what she thinks is perfect for the night. “Try this on.”
He gets dressed in the khaki carpenter pants that have old paint splatters strung across the legs first. Then on top he throws on the thin white tank and short sleeve plaid button up that Trinity took the liberty of cropping the bottom.
He looks down on himself. “I don’t know about this. It doesn’t really scream… me?”
“You’re not seeing the vision, Huck. It’s the perfect amount of gay and farm boy.” Trinity stands back with her hand resting quizzically under her chin, admiring her masterpiece. “I think I’ve done it— just a couple more finishing touches.”
She thumps down the squeaky stairs and Dennis follows reluctantly behind. She digs through her disorganized plate of jewelry and finds a couple options for him. He’s standing in her doorframe when she waltzes over.
“Try this on for size.” She hands him the biggest size ring she has. He slides it halfway down before the ring stops at his finger knuckle. “Jesus Christ, I forgot how big man knuckles are.”
“Hey, I don’t have man knuckles,” he whines.
Trinity makes a pathetic face. “Okay… boy knuckles then.”
“That’s worse,” he grumbles. He slides the ring back off and settles for his pinky finger, fitting perfectly. Trinity then hands him a plain silver chain that coordinates with the ring. With the whole ensemble put together, she takes a step back again.
“I’m a genius,” she says matter-of-factly.
At that moment, Samira steps out of her room and takes a good look at him. “Okay, Dennis,” she hypes up. “I didn’t know you cleaned up like that.”
“It’s not too much?”
Trinity scoffs. “Any more and you’ll be in real trouble. One last thing though.”
After disappearing into the bathroom, she comes back out with her hand cupped. She rubs her hands together and runs them through his hair, coating it all in her own pomade. His curls become more defined with each ruffle and fluff she incorporates in.
“Now it’s perfect,” she states.
“I don’t know…”
“No more deciding, I’m cutting you both off,” Samira says. “Time to go!”
“Momira mode is in full swing,” Trinity whispers to Dennis. “Where are we going anyways?”
“Laguna Beach.”
Both Trinity and Dennis’ eyes widen. “She lives in Laguna Beach now?”
“Yeah, I looked her up.” Samira pulls out her phone and scans the screen. “Parents own a law firm there too. I guess that explains the location. Oh, and did you know she’s a competitive surfer?”
Trinity tries to piece it all together in her head. “I guess things have changed more than I thought.”
“Perfect conversation starter,” she winks before pushing off the wall and grabbing her bag.
“What’s up with the need for conversation starters between you two?” Trinity questions while she follows the other two out the door, slamming it being her.
At this time of night, it doesn’t take them much time to arrive at Victoria’s house. The closer they got, the more nervous Trinity became. From small summer houses to modern mansions, the knot in her stomach continued to grow at the thought of how out of place they were about to be. She predicted they were getting close as more cars started to line the quiet neighborhood street.
“It should be up here on the right,” Samira informs from the driver's seat.
They pass by slowly. There’s a few lingering people outside on the front porch, but from the sounds of it, the party is in the back. Even from here they can tell that the house has a perfect ocean view, built on the side of a cliff.
Trinity frowns and shakes her head as Samira pulls into the first empty spot she sees. “I’ve seen enough, we can just go home.”
“I’m with Trin on this one,” Dennis agrees.
Samira throws it into park and shifts her body towards the two of them. “I did not drive all this way to immediately turn around because you guys are too pussy to go in.”
They’re dumbfounded.
“Damn, Mir. I didn’t think you had that in you.” Trinity is half hurt and half impressed.
“Need I remind you— free drinks,” she says.
Trinity stares down at her hyperactive fingers that are going to town on the dry skin around her thumb. This all feels like a bad idea.
“Free… and expensive.” Samira smirks as she keeps pushing the boundaries, but it usually works in her favor in the end. Trinity and Dennis meet eyes in contemplation.
“I guess it would be an injustice to ourselves if we didn’t at least stop in,” Trinity mumbles while looking down at her irritated thumb.
“Perfect! No time like the present.” Samira enthusiastically opens her door before Trinity and Dennis follow.
Now that they’re out of the increasingly claustrophobic car, they can hear the base that drums through the walls of the house. Not only that, but the closer they walk, the sound of people buzzing within reveal the sheer volume that waits inside.
Samira as the leader pushes open the front door and stops in her tracks. The foyer looks much bigger on the inside than the outside, with twin staircases on each side leading to the second floor. There’s people sitting all along the stairs, chatting and drinking. Looking ahead past the hallway in front of them lies an entire wall made up of windows. Trinity tries to picture how beautiful it looks in the daytime.
They wander around curiously, looking extremely out of place and expectantly unfamiliar. Trinity on the other hand is looking a lot harder than she wants to admit.
They reach the kitchen at last, the hub for any drink you could imagine. Trinity winces at the carelessness of the alcohol piled on the kitchen island that looks to be a mile long. I guess living in a place like this makes you money blind to the top shelf liquor that would take her several days of work to pay off one bottle.
She takes it to her advantage, stealing a cup and pouring an inch or two of bourbon. If this was a different situation, she would be looking for a nicer glass and ice, but she makes do with what she’s got. Samira eyes her options seriously, then reaches across for a bottle of bright purple liquid.
“You’re not seriously about to ingest that, are you?” Trinity recoils. “What is that, Fabuloso?”
“It’s butterfly pea gin,” she says, like it's obvious. “Gin, made with butterfly peas?”
Trinity’s eyebrows are raised and she shrugs her shoulders. “Those words mean nothing to me.”
Dennis is next, making a less than fortunate choice.
“Beer, really?” Trinity asks, even though she’s not too surprised.
“It’s a classic for a reason,” he states without shame.
It doesn’t take long for them to fall back into the rhythm of abnormality. They stand in place, looking around the room with drinks in their hands.
“Okay, do you see Victoria?” Samira whispers.
“Who’s Victoria?” Dennis asks.
“No time to explain, D.W.” He huffs at the use of Samira’s silly nickname for him. It came to her one night spent out on the patio, her and Trinity passing a joint back and forth.
Samira giggled to herself. “You know how you always say Dennis looks like that sad little green gumball from Wreck-It Ralph?”
Trinity joined in laughing, the image flashing in her mind. “Yeah.”
“He kinda looks like Arthur… from Arthur.”
She sat up a little, the hammock they shared swayed. “The bear?”
“I don’t think they were bears.”
Trinity hummed. “What were they then?”
Samira paused for several seconds. “I don’t actually know… wait! D.W. the little sister. D.W… Dennis Whitaker… D.W.”
Much to Dennis’ dismay, it stuck in Samira’s mind.
While Trinity and Samira are distracted looking for a certain someone, they don’t realize that a stranger has approached Dennis. He’s wearing faded black denim jeans and a vintage looking Johnny Cash tour shirt. While they’re preoccupied talking, Trinity and Samira side eye each other and walk away from the kitchen.
“How about we split up?” Samira asks.
“Sure, why not.” Samira starts to walk off towards the other side of the house when Trinity stops her. “Don’t do anything stupid… or anything I would do. I guess those go hand in hand.”
Trinity watches as she goes, getting lost in the sea of people. She feels a little paralyzed now all by herself. She scans the room and recognizes one girl from the beach with Victoria, but still no sign of her. A door to what looks like a large balcony is open in the distance. She figures it’s as good of a place to start as any.
She worms her way in front of and behind people until the rush of the cool night air moves through her lungs. She didn’t realize how stuffy it is inside until she escapes.
Once she rests her body weight on her elbows against the stone wall, she mutters a curse under her breath at the view. They were right about the ocean being outside their door. The house is set atop one of the large rocky hills, giving them a birds eye view of the beach at the bottom. Down below is a decent sized yard, half of which is taken up by an extravagant pool being put to good use.
She focuses her attention on the diving board, squinting to see someone making a show of themselves. Of course, it looked to be Victoria’s boyfriend.
The group of people surrounding him cheered about something he said before he flips off the diving board and lands in the pool. She scoffs and shakes her head.
“Are you stalking me?”
She should be shocked— jumping at her words, but a wave of calmness comes crashing down over Trinity.
“You wish,” she smirks, not tearing her eyes from the view in front of her. She brings her cup to her lips, sipping happily. In her peripheral vision she can see Victoria inching closer until she leans on the wall with her back facing the water.
“How did you know there was a party?”
She shrugs. “A little birdy told me, Crash.”
Trinity tilts her head up sideways to catch a glance at her. Victoria’s hair is pulled back from her middle part into a wavy ponytail and her cheeks wear a shade of pink that Trinity thinks may or may not be natural. She’s wearing a flowy, printed halter top that compliments her nicely, paired with a mini skirt. She’s holding onto her drink tightly and her face radiates disgust.
“Crash? What the hell is that?”
“Let’s just call it a term of endearment in honor of your little wipeout this morning.” She doesn’t mean for the comment to come off as sarcastic, but she’s already digging herself a hole. I guess life can’t go her way without a fight. “What’s your poison?”
Victoria looks down regrettably into her cup. “Lemonade.” She sounds unsure and hesitant, knowing that Trinity can turn anything into a joke.
“Partying hard, are we? Mommy and Daddy didn’t let you have any big girl juice?”
Victoria chuckles once, but not out of enjoyment. “I should’ve predicted that you would grow into a raging cunt.”
“I agree,” Trinity plays along. “Now it’s just integrated into my charming personality.”
There’s a beat of silence covering them. Neither one of them knows exactly the right thing to say. How do you say something that encapsulates the feeling of being apart for years? Trinity didn’t consider herself good with words in the first place.
“So.” Trinity clears her throat. “Surfing, huh?”
“Yeah,” Victoria nods. “Hence the no drinking. I’m, uh, preparing for a competition in the next couple months, so I have to stay in good shape and not do anything labeled as ‘reckless.’” The way she says it almost sounds like she doesn’t believe it herself. “What about you?”
Trinity internally winces. She expected the conversation to divert this way, but she would just prefer it if it didn’t. “Are you forgetting how I gallantly came to your rescue today?”
“I hardly needed rescuing. Some asshole just cut me off, that’s all. I mean, what do you do when you’re not doing… that?” She gestures out towards the water.
“Oh, I’m gonna have to stop you there, Crash. That’s a luxury that you’re going to have to earn.” Trinity pushes herself off the wall and turns to mirror Victoria’s position. This could be her way back in. Victoria now gets to decide if she’s going to take the bait.
“Please, spare me the nickname.”
“It has a certain essence about it. I think I’m gonna keep it around for now.” Trinity toys with her, mainly because she likes what it’s doing to Victoria.
They’re looking at each other now— really looking. Both have been able to steal glimpses at the beach and even tonight when the other isn’t looking, but their eyes have met. Trinity is now aware of the lessened proximity between them by the way Victoria’s hot skin emanates onto her own.
Victoria gives Trinity a weak smile with hurt eyes. Trinity feels fragile pieces inside her shatter. They’ve been cracked for years, only supporting themselves in a balancing act. This is the nail in the coffin.
Her heart may be feeling the effects of Victoria’s longing doe-eyed stare, but she doesn’t show it.
Trinity dares to bump her shoulder into Victoria’s. “Come on, admit it. You missed me.”
The girl shakes her head. “Whatever.” The sounds of music and noise down in the yard fill their ears while Trinity watches her search for something else to say. “So, theoretically. How does one earn all of this mystery Trinity Santos information?”
She takes the bait… but that doesn’t mean that she can’t have some fun first.
“You didn’t hear it from me,” she whispers, “but some say there’s a hidden treasure map buried about-”
“I’m starting to think you’re allergic to being serious.” Victoria laughs for real this time which relieves Trinity more than she realizes, letting out a trapped breath that has been unknowingly lodged in her throat. “What about your number? You have one of those, right?”
“Nah, I don’t believe in technology.” Trinity stares at Victoria until she gathers it’s a joke.
She pulls out her phone and gives it to Trinity. It feels strange to have her lifeline in the palm of her hand like this. Pushing the odd feeling aside, Trinity types her number into a new saved contact. When she finishes, Victoria takes it back and places it back into her pocket.
This feels like the end of their conversation, which is why Trinity pulls away. “Now you know where to find me, just in case you need someone to pull you out of the water again. Wouldn’t want you to go drowning on me. I have a reputation to uphold you know.”
Victoria rolls her eyes playfully. “Goodnight, Santos.”
She leaves her out on the terrace alone while she tries to wrangle Samira and Dennis. Once back in the car, Dennis explains that the guy he was talking to was a few years younger than him and left his number written in eyeliner on his arm. That’s before he inevitably falls asleep in the backseat.
It’s no surprise that Samira tries to grill Trinity about her conversation with Victoria. She whispers questions into the air and Trinity vaguely answers them, making sure to tell her to not get too excited.
With Trinity back in her room, she changes out of her clothes and throws on a t-shirt that looks more like a dress on her. She’s unmaking her bed when her phone dings. She crawls under the sheet and takes her phone with her. The screen lights up with a nameless number. She opens it and reads…
11:56 – (Victoria): my hero?
11:56 – (Victoria): really?
Trinity grins arrogantly at the name she’s given herself in Victoria’s phone.
11:57 – (Trinity): i can’t have you forgetting who i am, crash
11:57 – (Trinity): i take my job very seriously
Three dots pop up to indicate she’s typing. While Trinity waits, she changes Victoria’s name to Crash, of course
11:59 – (Victoria): when do i get to start off the game of twenty questions because i already have something great up my sleeve
12:00 – (Trinity): over the phone is much too incriminating
12:00 – (Trinity): they’re always listening you know
12:01 – (Victoria): kinda starting to believe the whole no technology thing isn’t just a bit
Trinity queues something up on her computer to watch as she dozes off when another text comes through.
12:06 – (Victoria): did you make it home okay?
She doesn’t quite know what to do with the question. It’s a simple question really— a simple question that makes her analyze its meaning more than she should.
12:08 – (Trinity): i only dozed off a couple times
12:09 – (Victoria): i sure hope you’re kidding
12:09 – (Trinity): yes i’m kidding. i didn’t even drive, i got to be a passenger princess
She waits for a response, but it never comes. So, she decides to take a leap.
12:20 – (Trinity): are you busy thursday?? i have the day off
She stares up at her ceiling debating on if she wants to say what her heart is telling her. Regardless if it’s cringy, her fingers begin to type.
12:20 – (Trinity): maybe we can try our hands at this whole friendship thing again?
12:20 – (Trinity): if you want
12:21 – (Trinity): no promises that i won’t completely screw something up
Now, she anxiously waits. She put herself out on the line and the last thing she wants is for it to backfire.
Seven minutes pass by at a snail's pace, but the last text comes through with a buzz.
12:28 – (Victoria): i’ll take my chances
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my crashtos babies have my heartttt. i can’t wait to write more of this for you guys🫶
𓇼 surfer bucky who loves to rub sunscreen into your skin to make sure your skin doesn’t burn under the sun before he leaves you to surf.
𓇼 surfer bucky who always finds the most fluffy towel available for when you both leave the house so you’re most comfortable on the beach and is always trying to get you your favourite snacks every time you go. (which is 6 times a week…)
𓇼 surfer bucky who on days that you do decide to go to the beach with him he always tries to show off for you after applying your sunscreen, trying to do tricks on his board because he knows you’re watching him.
𓇼 surfer bucky who loves when you join him in the water, because he has an excuse to reapply your sunscreen after but also because he loves being stupid with you in the place that calms him the most, splashing you with water cheekily and making you chase after him in the water even though you both know he’s winning.
𓇼 surfer bucky who met you at a bonfire party at the beach and just couldn’t take his eyes off of you, finding your appearance and charm so captivating.
𓇼 surfer bucky who reminds you so much of a happy dog. constantly running around with infinite energy, laughing and smiling. sometimes you think if he were a dog his tail would just be constantly wagging in glee.
𓇼 surfer bucky who you would assume would own a dog, but he actually owns a little white cat. on days where the waves are much calmer he just sits on his board with her and takes her around gradually with his hand slowly moving through the water.
𓇼 surfer bucky who loves to paint, if he’s not relaxing by surfing he’s definitely doing it by painting. he often draws the beach/sea but sometimes it’ll be things he saw on his day around, like a cute corner shop. or sometimes it’ll be his kitty, or even you.
𓇼 surfer bucky who loves to eat icecream with you on the beach, his favourite flavours being funky money and rocky road. on a particularly hot day and the melting treat is dripping onto your chest he can’t help but lean foreword and lick it off your skin, making your cheeks turn into a bright red flush.
𓇼 surfer bucky who has freckles EVERYWHERE from being out at the beach every day of his life. he gets all excited when you make patterns with them, feeling gooey when your fingers trace his skin especially around his stomach and arms.
𓇼 surfer bucky who takes great enjoyment in teaching you how to surf, holding you still on his board and patiently guiding you through it, feeling so proud of himself but especially you as you finally get the gist of it.
notes: i hope u enjoyed this!!! if u want me to write anything specific please send me a request! ♡⸝⸝
