Free Jacob's Ladder by Z. A. Maxfield

hoped he couldn"t read my mind. Eeny, meeny, miney, moe. Catch a fireman by the toe…
    Apparently I had a thing.
    “The pier is down the boardwalk at one end of town, and when you walk back, St. Nacho"s Bar is at the other. You can"t miss it. That"s where we"ll be meeting for drinks.”
    “Sure. Six, you say?”
    “Six.” JT"s eyes held nothing but sincerity. He was warmth personified, and I began to think that maybe he really was just concerned for my well-being. “I don"t want to…” He frowned, letting his words trail off.
    “What?”
    JT looked behind him. “I don"t want to presume or anything. Cam"s a really nice guy, but he"s kind of a player—”
    “JT, can you stop? The rescue is over. I can take care of myself.”
    “It"s not about that.” JT looked anywhere but at me. “Well. Yes, it is actually.
    He"s known for being a bit of a brawler when he drinks, and a guy like you—”
    “What do you mean a guy like me?”
    “Well, someone who…” JT"s face both froze and pinkened. “I"m sorry. I didn"t mean anything by it.”
    “All you know about me is what you learned during what was arguably the worst week of my life.”
    “I see.” JT"s face shuttered closed. “I"m sorry.”
    “No—” I put my hand on his arm. He"d been nothing but kind, and I didn"t want to give him the idea that I wasn"t grateful. “I"m really glad you"re looking out for me. But I"ve been taking care of myself for a long time. Even though you"ve seen every evidence to the contrary, I"m pretty good at it.”
    “I"m sorry. Never mind. I know that. I forget sometimes that people are more than the problems they have that bring me on the scene.”
    “Thanks again, though, yeah?”
    JT shot me an “it"s cool” grin and turned to go inside.
    I was glad to see him smile, but I had felt something tenuous that had been building between us dissolve, something that had felt—at one point—like more than friendship.
    Probably, all things considered, it wasn"t really an actual loss. But it felt a little disconcerting. At least while I was sick and thought he was my grandfather, I"d felt allowed in. Deeply cared for. Worth a risk. Now I was less certain of that, and I felt something else altogether. Disappointment maybe.
    I was surprised to find it hurt a little.
    St. Nacho’s 3: Jacob’s Ladder
    43
    I followed his instructions, first toward the boardwalk and then to the pier.
    The tide was out, and I could see the pilings clearly, crusted with barnacles and what looked like mussels, rippling with algae, draped with seaweed and flotsam.
    I tried to let go of everything that had happened to me when I sank into the sand, which I found to be rougher and more pebbly than the sugary sand beaches in LA where I lived. It was dusty brown and resisted the efforts of the sea to pulverize it into homogenous pieces. The shore too was a little rocky, and I wondered if anyone surfed here or if there were boulders under the waves that made it too dangerous.
    The sand was warm on my back; the breeze light. Ocean waves and the cries of seabirds drew me easily into a relaxing doze. Soon I was caught up, carried away by it, and I felt as if my body were rising and falling on the crest of each crash of the waves as they broke against the shore.
    Unexpectedly a shadow fell over my face, and when I opened my eyes, I found Muse standing over me with a paper parasol.
    “You"re going to get really sunburned.” She kept the shade over my face while she sat down daintily beside me. “I fell asleep right there once, and even though it seemed a little cloudy at the time, I woke up with a bad burn, and my face peeled for a week.”
    “Good point.” I sat up, and she held her little umbrella over both of us with some difficulty as gusts of wind caught it and threatened to tear it from her grasp.
    She studied me like I"d washed up from the sea and she"d found me there dead.
    “What are you doing out here?”
    “I thought I"d just look around Nacho"s.” I