Turquoise

I stepped out onto the balcony, savouring the way the gentle and warm breeze caressed my shoulders and lifted the heavy curtain of my hair. In the height of Cypriot summer, the air was humid and the heat was sweltering. The days were for hiding in air-conditioned rooms, the evenings for a nice swim in the Mediterranean sea.

The view from the balcony of the world beyond was incredible. The sea stretched wide and seemingly never-ending, until it met the sky in a perfect horizontal line. The beach framed the sea in a half moon, the golden colour almost too bright for the eyes as the sun’s rays reflected off it, making the tiny hidden corns of gems glisten. The sea, a deep turquoise, glistened like polished crystal. Gentle waves competed for the beach, and children leapt over them, giggling in their youthful innocence.

To my right I witnessed compassion. A strongly built man held a delicate lady in his arms, an embrace that signalled love and trust. I stared longingly at them, wishing that I too could experience what they, spoiled beautiful humans, had been granted from the heavens.

Feeling jaded, I dismissed the couple and swept my gaze to the left. On a sunbed lay a thin, tall man; sickly pale, the coarse black arm and leg hair seeming almost out of place. In both his hands he gripped a book, and I wondered how he could see the letters on the pages through his black sunglasses.

I studied him for a moment, thinking that I too looked like that on the beach. I wasn’t particularly beautiful, with my oversized body, porous skin, and potato-nose. Not to mention the many other subtler imperfections lingering under the surface. And I too had an interest in reading, which is what I often spent doing on the beach.

My mind projected itself outward, imagining how others might observe me, disgusted at how a large girl could sit there lazily in the sun, reading a novel instead of working off the excess fat on her body. Saddened by the thought, I glanced down at my belly, which wasn’t exactly protruding, but not flat either. I sighed in defeat. I was never going to be one of those beautiful women embraced by the arms of a handsome man.

And then I thought; that’s fine by me. There were other things in life to entertain me, other things to live for. A relationship was not a guaranteed path to happiness, and a life could be plenty happy without a relationship.

I started to turn away from the window, but then my eyes caught the shape of a man rising from the sea. My eyes widened as I took in his masculine beauty. In typical guy fashion, he wiped his wet hair from his face as he marched through the water, looking around himself consciously as if he knew beyond doubt that he had every single female’s (and potentially homosexual male’s) attention. Beautiful, but vain. As they often tended to be.

Disgusted, I turned around and padded back into the hotel room, shutting the glass door behind me. Inside I was greeted by a cooler atmosphere, thanks to the air condition working its magic. I didn’t like using them since they were so bad for the environment, but in this heat it couldn’t be helped. I plopped down on the bed, spreading my legs wide to cool my thighs while grabbing for my phone. I’d received a text.

Hey girl! We’re all going down to the beach later, do you want to join us? We can play beach tennis and all that, we’ve got the stuff! We’re coming at 4.

I smiled. Jasmine always managed to send a text when I most needed it. The excitement was already welling up in me. As someone who lived a not so action-filled life, the mention of any activity tended to make my heart pound faster. I texted back.

Ok, sounds good! See ya guys later.

Immediately the phone beeped.

Xoxo

I didn’t bother responding. Jasmine knew how much I loved her.

I glanced at my wrist, the turquoise wristwatch indicating that it was now two o’clock in the afternoon. I figured I could read until the others arrived, so I grabbed my book, Silmarillion, by one of my favourites in the genre, J. R. R Tolkien, and got to it.

Sometime later, I absently stroked my leg and felt the sharp blades of tiny hairs. I bolted upright with a curse. The watch showed 15:35, which meant I had exactly 25 minutes to shave and get ready. I scrambled into the tub shower and turned the water on. The first cascades were scorching hot from the sun, burning me and causing me to swivel around, my behind still getting toasted by water while I struggled to get out of the tub and into safety. Too late, I saw the soap had fallen into the tub, and I slipped and smacked my head against the tiled wall, clawing at it for balance to save myself from falling. I didn’t succeed. Thankfully my body bumped against the wall, the plump skin rubbing against the surface effectively bringing me to a skidding halt.

I glanced around me, wide-eyed and breathless. I had survived? Barely. Typical that such a thing would happen to me—especially when I was short on time. Taking two steadying breaths, I steeled myself, reached a hand through the scorching water spray and turned the cold water on.

I emerged from the bathroom clean-shaven, but with several tiny cuts dripping blood down my legs. I growled in frustration. I never managed to shave without causing some collateral damage. Quickly wiping away the blood, I pulled on my turquoise bikini (in case it wasn’t obvious already, turquoise happened to be my favourite colour), grabbed a towel, my beach bag and my sunglasses.

I rushed to the door and swung it open, almost running down Jasmine in my haste, where she stood with her mouth open, hand raised and poised to knock.

‘Hey!’ I squealed, launching myself at her and engulfing her in a bear hug.

Laughingly, she hugged me back. ‘Woah, is that a new bikini?’ she asked, eyeing me up and down. ‘It looks great.’ I glanced down at myself, pleased. ‘Come on, the others are waiting for us down at the beach.’ She grabbed my wrist and pulled me after her. We made our way to the elevator, where I promptly braked before she could pull me inside.

‘I’ll take the stairs.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘You and your electricity conservation.’ But she went down the stairs with me anyway.

I spotted my uncle in the reception and smiled brightly at him in greeting. He was the owner of the hotel, which meant I usually vacationed there for a week every summer, free of charge. The receptionist behind him looked bored and unapproachable, slumped over the marble desk.

‘Heading out?’ he asked.

‘Yep!’

‘Jasmine, you done for today?’

‘Yes sir, I am, it was a long morning shift.’

Jasmine worked at the hotel restaurant, opting for the morning shift so that she could, and I quote, “party all night,” which frankly is what she did, Monday to Sunday. I had met her when I had come here last summer for a holiday. She was easy to talk to and we had quickly befriended one another.

‘Well, see you girls later,’ uncle said, winking at us.

We walked out through the glass doors of the veranda and onto the rocky path leading down to the beach. The grass was unnaturally green for this time of the year, and I found myself calculating how much it must have cost to maintain it through the long summer months. At last we reached the beach, where the scorching sand burned my feet. I looked up, and in a group stood the rest of our friends, grinning broadly and waving at us.

‘Hey!’ I announced, stepping forward.

They all murmured a hi, then repeated it more enthusiastically when Jasmine walked up. I tried to appear unbothered, asking Joanna and Jake how they were and receiving monosyllabic replies. Before long we’d all settled down on our sun beds, and animated conversation sprung up between the others, though I was kind of excluded, since they were mostly talking about their jobs and parties. While they talked, they massaged sun cream into each other’s backs. With my tan skin, I didn’t need it, and neither did anyone ask me to help them apply it.

Feeling ignored but strangely self-conscious, I glanced down at myself, aware that people were staring at me not because I was beautiful but because I was abnormal-looking. I squirmed uncomfortably, feeling pretentious wearing a nice bikini when I didn’t have the body for it.

But then, I reminded myself that I didn’t give a crap about what I appeared like to everyone else. I lifted my chin, straightened my back and gazed around me with forced confidence. The sea was packed with people, especially children, and I had to grimace thinking how many had relieved themselves in there. Doesn’t matter, I reminded myself. The sea was vast, and right now, I yearned for it. I stood and dumped my stuff on the sun bed. I turned to the others, raising my voice as I asked, ‘So is anyone coming?’ Jasmine nodded enthusiastically, and right on cue, so did the rest. Ignoring that little detail, I grabbed Jasmine’s arm and marched her to the sea.

The water wasn’t cold, yet I felt the hairs on my arms stand up as I waded through. In a surge of need I launched myself in, half diving, half flopping against the surface of the water. Jasmine eyed me disapprovingly, seeing as I had barbarically splashed her, and continued to delicately dip inch after inch of her body into the water. Feeling mischievous, I splashed her again, diving under the surface before I could bear witness to her disgruntled expression. I felt around under the water, grabbed her leg, and dragged her weightless body underneath. I felt the bubbles of her submerged protests and rose, laughing out loud at her. When she finally revealed her wet and very untidy self, we commenced a friendly water fight. Soon the others had joined us, and I was surprisingly winning the battle. The guys took their time splashing Jasmine, swarming around her like flies around a candle.

There was obviously a reason for why the guys were so drawn to her. Jasmine inhibited an aura of self-assured authority. She was friendly to everyone, polite, approachable, likable. On top of that, she was typically gorgeous. Her hair, which was naturally a colour between blonde and brown, had so many golden and platinum highlights in it that she appeared blonde altogether. She had a small, cute face, high cheekbones, and straight features that came together to form a beautiful Northern European ancestry. Her eyes, a brilliant light blue, appeared to glitter when she was in social gatherings. Jasmine’s natural element was of course in the company of friends. To summarise, she was a popular girl that everybody liked and admired. Even me.

I’d gotten used to the attention she always received and had learnt to subtly take advantage of it. I’d gained many friends (though no boyfriends) from knowing her. Of course, those friends turned out to be more like acquaintances than anything else, and they never hung around for me, but it was nice to be invited to their social gatherings all the same.

While Jasmine spun around to enjoy the company of her friends, I turned away, observing the orange buoys bobbing on the waves. Glancing back, I realised none of them would miss me. I took off swimming into the depths of the sea.

The cool water now felt warm to my skin, caressing the sore places where I’d struck the wall, stinging where the salt met the scars on my legs. I sighed happily, closing my eyes for a second and drawing in a deep breath of airborne salt and fish-smelling sea. I turned around to swim on my back for a while, gaze fixing on the smooth soft blue of the sky. The propelling of my arms caused tiny droplets to fall over my face, and I squidged my eyes to protect them from the salt.

Before I knew it, I had reached the orange buoy. I launched myself out of the water and locked my arms around it, hugging it while I caught my breath.

That’s when I saw him.

I recognised him right away. He entered the water in the exact same way that he departed it: striding purposefully, wiping his hair back, and glancing around with a knowing smirk.

I fought against the urge to stare at him, quickly pivoting in the water and continuing to clutch the orange buoy like a half-crazed, water-fearing child. Not that I cared what he thought.

Unfortunately, that was a phrase I had to repeat to myself several times as I heard him dive smoothly—unlike me—into the water. For a few seconds there was complete silence behind me. When the seconds stretched on longer than normal, I glanced back, worried for a ridiculous second that some hidden sea monster might have grabbed the guy and pulled him under.

Naturally, as soon as I looked back Mr. Cocky cleaved the water with the grace of a dolphin. For just a fraction of a section he was silhouetted in blue, making him appear blessed by some sea-god. His broad shoulders glistened golden where the sunrays stroked them, and he shook his head like a dog, sending droplets of water flying in all directions. His hair, now a wet mess on his head, made him look younger than what he had appeared at first.

Hypnotised, I could only stare. Eventually he felt eyes on him and turned his head to look directly at me. Caught in the act, I whirled around again, calming my breath while I pretended to observe the glistening sea beyond with over-exaggerated interest.

Incredibly, he came closer and closer; too close, until it felt like he was directly behind me. My breath caught, and I nonchalantly and ungracefully launched myself away from the buoy, swimming as fast as I could to my right, away, far away from this man and his forbidden allure.

When I felt like I was finally a safe distance away, I discreetly glanced back. My eyes widened in horror when I saw him clutching the orange buoy just like I had a moment earlier, still peering at me quizzically. I blanched, swivelled around, and kept swimming.

When I was in shallow water again, I hesitated for a moment. Even if by a small chance he had been interested in me, he would quickly discover as soon as I stepped onto the beach that I was a large and very much not datable girl.

Then anger surged through me again as I told myself that I couldn’t care less about him. With renewed confidence, I strode onto the beach and headed toward Jasmine and the others. When I reached them, I discreetly peeked over my shoulder again, and just as I had thought, he wasn’t looking at me anymore. Good.

With a mischievous grin, Mario, one of the guys in the group, pulled two beach rackets and a tennis ball out of his backpack with a ‘Tada!’

Finally! I thought to myself. Something I was good at.

I pounced on him, and he obediently handed me a racket. We positioned ourselves a few feet apart, and our game commenced. At first, my movements were awkward, and I made mistakes, missing the ball a few times or hitting it too hard. But as I warmed up, my blood began to pound around my body, loosening me up like oil preparing a car engine. In a few minutes, Mario was the one making the mistakes, and I had to contain myself from cheering or taunting him. When we had finished the game, Mario shot me a dirty look, though I just grinned back at him.

While the others played, I lay down on my sunbed for a bit, letting the heated rays of the sun soak into my skin. I suntanned my front and back, hoping that the golden-brown colour would even out beautifully over the unnatural paleness I had acquired at home.

Satisfied that I’d had enough, I got up just as Andrew was pulling out a beach ball. I lifted my hands, and he tossed it at me. I caught it and took off running into the water again. The guys, egged on, lurched into a sprint after me, exploding into the water and splashing all the other beachgoers in trying to catch me. Jake, the fastest, threw himself forward and grabbed me, effectively taking me down, and like a mountain, I collapsed into the water.

When I emerged, Jake was holding the ball triumphantly. He threw it to Mario, who in turn tossed it to Andrew. I stood up, positioning myself so that the four of us formed a square. Andrew smashed the ball toward me. The wind carried it to the right, and in a sacrificial launch I smashed the ball to Jake before falling into the water. Above me I could hear muffled cheers.

We continued playing for a while. The girls stood in a cluster in shallow water, showing off their thin, flat bodies while they watched us, chattering and giggling amongst themselves. I barely spared them a thought, as passionate as I was about sports. But eventually, Mario had had enough of guy-play (me being the exception) and sauntered over to the girls, joining them in whatever gossip they were busying themselves with. Like lost little ducklings, Andrew and Jake followed him and joined the group.

With a stifled sigh, I joined them too, internally grimacing over the things they were talking about. Apparently, Sarah had slept with Jonah and Sam was upset about it, etc etc. None of this news were of particular interest to me, so I spent my time silently observing their mannerisms, nodding along where it seemed appropriate.

After a while, I’d had enough. I looked around me, and sure enough, there he was again. Apparently the mysterious Mr. Cocky had had enough of swimming, and he glided out of the water in his typical fashion. As soon as his back was to me, I glued my eyes to his moving frame, figuring that I could openly study him now that he couldn’t see me.

His golden back was wide, shoulder blades and muscles dancing as he moved. I almost allowed my mouth to water while my eyes traced the curve from neck to strong shoulders. Glancing down, I noted how impressive his shoulder-to-waist ratio was.

Suddenly, I realised how quiet our little group had gotten. I glanced at my friends and saw that half of the girls were staring at Mr. Cocky with wide eyes and open mouths, and the other half were staring at him with appreciative, flirty expressions. Apparently, I was not the only one starstruck by his impressive physique. I eyed Jasmine carefully. She was one of the latter girls. Unless I was mistaken, it seemed to me that she was looking at him like she already knew she would get to know him—intimately. I was shocked by my false intuition and forced the suspicion out of my head. Instead I flapped a hand in front of Lisa’s face.

‘Hello? Talk about catching flies or what?’

Jasmine looked at me, smiling knowingly. Internally, I cringed.

The other girls began to talk excitedly about the “hottie”. I listened but didn’t comment. Despite having seen him just moments ago, I could barely remember what he looked like. I frowned, trying to recall details, but couldn’t really remember much besides the way his tan had glowed in the sun. Suddenly I was struck by the overwhelming need to observe him; to tell him to stand still while I looked closely, putting every detail to memory. Maybe I’d be able to draw him one day.

But that would never happen. With grim acceptance, I turned from the group for another intensive swim. I figured working my fat behind would make me feel better, and it did.