With a sigh Philip tossed the cigarette butt over the safety rail and into the crashing waves below. It had been about two and a half years since he'd taken his last vacation, now here he was, beachside without the foggiest of ideas about what he should do for fun.
When he was younger maybe the clubs would have appealed to him, but now at forty-nine, it was sheer luck if he even stayed up until three A.M. anymore. That or he had the same recurring nightmare that haunted and roused him like clockwork in the middle of every single week. In the nightmare he died alone, on the silk sheets of the king-sized bed in his townhouse, Vivaldi floating through the speakers of the docking station -- that he ordered on a whim one day while browsing amazon --, and the bottle of scotch he kept on the side table, was on the floor cracked and leaking onto the hardwood finish.
"Well, least in the nightmare I'm a little greyer around the edges." He mused to himself, thankful that most of the hair on his head was still black, with the only grey that dared show residing in his beard. Then with a chuckle he bent and to pick up the parcel of fish he'd rested on the boardwalk as he stopped to have his smoke, and upon righting himself, the muscles in his lower back tightened, causing a hiss to escape him as he stretched and caught himself before walking down the boardwalk, his eyes hidden by sunglasses taking in all the sights around him as he moved on.
The younger men walked by with tanned skin, perfect teeth, wearing the same designer shades and the smug, preppy grin, that said 'my dad is rich', while the girls in bikini tops on their arms, fawned over them, and most likely not even for the money, because between the straw blonde hair, perfect teeth, and the jewelry that seemed -- in his humble opinion -- a little too obnoxious to be worn to the beach, it was obvious that their fathers weren't exactly short of nickels to rub together.
Still, the young love in the air was oddly a bit saddening for him. Most of friends has settled down, that or they winded up saddled with thousands in annual child support payments, he was the only one who had continued to live through his glory days, content to binge drink and party through his trust fund until his father passed away. It was then that his mother sat him down and with the sternest of tones told him to make something of himself, be a man that he could be proud of when he looked back. Now looking down at the fish in his hand, and the flip-flops on his feet, proud wasn't exactly the first word that came to mind.
"Professor Howard?" A soft voice questioned and he looked up in search of the owner, "Professor!" A hand holding a tissue waved at him, and he recognized one of the students he taught a few years ago.
"Vicky Larson?" He asked walking towards the girl that sat on the bench, noticing that she was three fourths of her way through a hotdog, and seemingly pretty content with life at the moment, as she wore a pair of shorts and a halter top, keeping her ankles locked together and returned her waving hand to the bench for support.
"Fancy seeing you here sir." She said before taking another bite of the hotdog and he nodded in response.
"I, ah, wanted to get some fish." The parcel was held up as part of the response, the newspaper now a bit soggier that the ice had begun to melt.
"Oh..." She replied, seemingly disheartened for a moment, "I wanted some myself, but I forgot to go."
"How do you forget that?"
"Well, I was walking by, and I smelt the hotdogs and they smelled absolutely fantastic, so I thought, Vicky you should get a hotdog, so I got a hotdog. Then I realized that the market closed, so, there was no fish." She nodded somberly.
"Oh, sorry to hear that." He said, quite unsure of what next to say to his past student as he stood with defrosting fish in his hand.
"What can you do right?" She asked with a shrug before finishing the hotdog, "So, did you move out here after school? Or you're on vacation?" She managed through a mouth full of hotdog and he couldn't help but laugh at the unperturbed manner, finding it a bit amusing thinking back about how quiet and, different, she was when he lectured her in the first year at college.
"Vacation, couldn't dream of moving out here. I'd miss my house too much, and the city. How would I ever get to sleep without the sound of someone banging on a door at four in the morning?" They laughed together for a moment, "What about you? Vacation or moved?"
"Oh the same, vacation, here by myself, my brother was supposed to come, but he bailed on me for money. So... he's a dick, but, I'm at the beach, so, there's that." She added on a nod for good measure and he smiled.
"Well, I'm sorry to hear about your brother bailing on you, Vicky. But I hope you enjoy yourself. You know, it's my first time here, so I'm not quite sure what there is to do, so I'm probably just going to head back to my apartment and fry this up for dinner, then get some rest."
"That doesn't sound like much fun." She scowled and he chuckled, "But, now I'm thinking about fish again."
Before he could warn his brain the words flew out of his mouth, "Well there's enough for two." He wanted to slap himself.
"Really? Well in that case, I'll be joining you for dinner." She laughed and tossed her tissue at the garbage bin across from them, "Score." The word was whispered as the tissue landed in the bin.
"Score?"
"Played a bit of basketball, point guard actually, so it's a bit of a habit." Pulling a bag onto her shoulder she stood, "So, to dinner then."
"Oh you were serious?" He laughed, and scratched his head with his free hand.
"Yes. I really want some fish. I've been thinking about it for days, literally, craving. For days." She said with sigh and he smiled.
"Well, to dinner then." He replied with a nod and she almost seemed to bounce on the spot before they proceeded back to his guesthouse, Vicky prattling on every step of the way.
By the time he was turning the key in his apartment door, he found out that over the past two years, Vicky's G.P.A had remained impressive, she switched majors and that's why he never saw her again. She had a boyfriend named Joshua, but he turned out to be a cunt, and she avoided him like the plague, and from the amount of times she winded up tripping or bumping into people or things, he noted for himself that she was a bit clumsy.
