Neither spoke as they walked along the twilit beach back towards the headland. Marina was on the ocean side, just out of reach of the lapping water.
“Are you excited about your party tomorrow night?” Charlie said.
He didn’t really need to ask. He knew she would be, but felt the lingering silence was teetering on the verge of awkwardness.
“Yeah!” Marina said with perhaps a little too much excitement.
“Sweet sixteen,” Charlie said. “Well... sixteen anyway.”
Marina slapped his arm, scowling at him.
“Ow, that was the sore one,” Charlie said, wincing.
“Well you just keep on asking for it, don’t ya?” Marina said with her best attempt at authority.
Charlie grinned, then looked to the sky. “I can’t believe it’s dark already.”
“Do you want to run?” Marina said.
“No, it’s fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” Charlie said. “He never set an exact time.”
“You just don’t want to run,” Marina said cheekily.
“Shut up,” Charlie snapped, feigning offence to cover the embarrassment that she was actually right. He'd had his fill of running earlier.
A small wave washed over Marina’s feet. She gasped. “That’s cold.”
“Karma,” Charlie said, laughing. “That’s what you get for paying me out.”
“Is that so?” Marina said as another wave washed in.
Using it to her advantage, she bent down and splashed water at Charlie, spraying it up his body. He winced at some hitting him on the face.
“Stop it,” Charlie said.
Marina laughed. “What’s karma say about that?”
Charlie wiped his face, becoming concerned when what he expected to be water felt slimy to his touch.
“Eww,” Marina said, also noticing that the water had something in it.
She hurried from the water, shaking her hand and feet in an attempt to remove the foreign goop.
Charlie looked at his hand, but it was too dark to see any detail.
“Yuck, what was that?” Charlie said.
“I don’t know, there’s something in the water,” Marina said, still shaking her hand. “It’s not coming off either.”
Using his clean hand, Charlie took his phone from his pocket. Within a few seconds, a bright, white LED came to life on its back. He shined it at Marina, revealing to them both a sticky, black, gelatinous liquid on her hand. Pointing it down, he saw the same over both of her feet.
Charlie shined the light at his own hand and saw a small smudge of the goo. He wiped it off on his shorts, then lifted his T-shirt to wipe his face.
“I can’t get it off, Charlie,” Marina said, sounding a little panicked.
Charlie took his T-shirt off. “Here, use this.”
He handed the shirt to Marina and she wiped herself clean—or as clean as she could—and gave it back to Charlie.
“Thanks,” Marina said, now a little more calm.
Cautious to only touch the remaining clean parts of the shirt, Charlie lifted it to his nose and sniffed, hoping to identify it.
He couldn’t.
“Eww, stinks of fish,” Charlie said.
Marina sniffed her hand, wrinkling her nose at the smell. Charlie was right.
“Maybe one of the fishing boats dumped its burly nearby,” Charlie said.
“Yuck, that’s disgusting,” Marina said. “Can we run home now, please?”
“Yep,” Charlie said, nodding.
Both ran off down the beach.
Charlie’s father, Justin, stood at the kitchen bench, plating up their dinner. He was a truck driver, so was often away for weeks at a time. As such, it had become a family tradition to spend the evening before, together, with a home-cooked meal. After Charlie’s mother left, Justin knew it was even more important to keep the tradition going, to show Charlie he was still there for him, despite his frequent absence.
This night’s culinary masterpiece was spaghetti bolognese. Justin had never been the best cook—had never claimed to be—so even the addition of olives to the sauce felt gourmet, of which he was secretly proud.
Charlie threw open the front door.
“Well that was timing,” Justin said. “I only just started serving up. Come and grab one.”
Charlie ran straight past him, down the hallway towards the bathroom. He had no shirt on, which Justin knew was unusual for him.
“Are you ok?” Justin said.
“I’ll just be a minute,” Charlie said, closing the bathroom door behind him.
Justin shrugged and carried the plates over to the dining table. Often they would eat at the coffee table, in front of the TV, but on these special nights it was semi-formal—the TV off and the table set.
Marina stood in the shower, steam filling the bathroom. She was at her own home, having parted ways with Charlie at the beginning of their street. She scrubbed frantically at her hand with a soap-covered nail brush, grimacing in frustration.
Washing the soap off, Marina smelled her hand, then scrubbed some more. She had already repeated this process several times.
“What the hell is this stuff?” Marina said, concerned that it would never come off.
She sniffed her hand again. Though lessened, the odour remained. Admitting defeat, she bent down to start on her feet.
Charlie entered the dining room and sat down at the table. He had a new T-shirt on.
“Sure you’re ok?” Justin said. “I heard the tap running the whole time you were in there.”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Charlie said. “Marina and I were down at the beach and got splashed by this black goop that had washed up, so I was just scrubbing it off.”
“Was it oil?” Justin said, presuming the most likely black liquid to be found in seawater.
“Nah, I don’t think so,” Charlie said, “it stunk of fish.”
“Hmmm, weird,” Justin said, ponderous.
“I feel sorry for ‘Rina,” Charlie said. “She got it all over her hands and feet.”
“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Justin said.
"Hope so,” Charlie said as he took up his fork and started on his meal.
Justin smiled. Having known Marina for so long, he saw the two as practically siblings, but every now and then—at times such as this—he suspected Charlie might be harbouring feelings he himself wasn’t even aware of.
Justin starting on his own meal. “So besides getting slimed, how was your day?”
“As good as it can ever be at work,” Charlie groaned.
He took a large mouthful of spaghetti.
“Oh yeah,” Charlie mumbled through his chewing, ”Marina got her braces today. She was pretty excited.”
“Really?” Justin said, surprised.
“Yeah!” Charlie said, stressing the point.
“Huh,” Justin said. “How things have changed.”
“What?” Charlie said, unsure of his father’s meaning.
“When I was a kid, people were scared to get braces,” Justin said. “They were seen as nerdy and embarrassing.”
“Really? Why?”
“I don’t know, they just were,” Justin said, laughing at its retrospective irrationality.
Charlie huffed. “Weird.”
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