Page 27 of Stoker's Serenity

We walked under the shade of an easy-up canopy with camp chairs under it and a wreckage of towels, flip flops, and beach bags. Stoker picked up a can of sunscreen in a spray can and I slipped out of my beach cover up, self-conscious in my two-piece black swimsuit with its gothic, strappy harness across my chest in an inverted five-pointed star.

I wasn’t religious. I didn’t care. I just liked the way it looked.

I’d had a hard time swallowing any kind of religion as a believer with how awfully my God-fearing Christian parents and the ‘good’ Christian folk had treated me after… Well… just after. Even though I hadn’t done anything wrong.

I giggled and laughed as he joked and hosed me down with sunscreen, and after I felt dry enough, shrugged back into my black velvet burn-out kimono with its black-on-black floral patterns and light flapper-type fringe.

With it and my simple black flip-flops, I felt elegant and chic, even though I’d found all of it on clearance through one avenue or another and had probably spent forty dollars on all of it combined.

He passed the canister off to me so I could do Linny’s long, lean figure in her blue-and-white striped bikini even as some of the guys and their girls started to draw near out of curiosity.

“Hey, Ren, Linny. I’d like you to meet…”

The introductions were a little overwhelming with just how many people there were to remember faces and names.

I was worried when one of the youngest men, Gator, seemed to have a momentary spark of recognition in his eyes, but then he said, “Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah! You were wearing the silver shirt last week!”

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding and nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Right on,” he said. “Welcome to the madhouse.”

I laughed a bit nervously and said the only thing I really could, “Thanks.”

It was a blessing when Stoker took my hand and led me down the beach, away from the crazy. Linny was situated and having a blast with a woman named Hossler, and flirting up a storm with a club member named Lightning. I never had to worry about her making friends wherever she went. She was beautiful, bold, brave, and absolutely fearless; everything I was not.

I sighed and let some of the nervous tension go, my fingers linked with Stoker’s as we walked to where the water met the shore. He’d left his hair loose and I had too; the breeze picked up tendrils of our long hair and swept it out towards the sea.

“You know, I don’t even know your real name,” I murmured.

“I was thinking the same thing just the other day,” he said. “I mean, I know your name is Serenity, but I don’t know your last name.”

“Weatherly,” I said. “And you?”

“Ah.” He laughed a bit nervously and said, “I’m originally from Louisiana, so it’s Michel.”

“Oh, I always liked that for a boy’s name,” I told him honestly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it’s unique. It fits you,” I said. “What’s your last name?”

“Arceneaux.”

“Michel Arceneaux.” I tasted his name and had to smile. “I like it a lot.”

“Yeah, well, stick with Stoker if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” I said with a giggle. “I’m actually pretty surprised. You don’t have an accent.”

“Ah, yeah. I wasn’t really raised around it. I had one more, when I was a kid, but I was made fun of enough for sounding ‘dumb’ that I ditched it pretty quick.”

I stilled a bit at that. I knew what that was like, all too well, although there was no changing the fact I’d grown up poor. Not as simple as changing the way I spoke… I envied him a bit that that was all it took.

“You cool with maybe leaving the beach for a couple of hours?” he asked out of the blue, and I cocked my head and shaded my eyes; even behind the black lenses of my sunglasses it was bright out here.

“And go where?” I asked.

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