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I’d even go as far as saying that Locke’s a little jealous based on his double take when Landon sidles up next to me.
But Locke can’t be for long as he steps up to tee off and transforms into his serious golf-above-all-else attitude. The crowd whoops and claps behind us before falling quiet to give Locke the silence he expects.
Landon is all smiles as usual, exuding that fake confidence young people sometimes project. He gets as close as he can to me, whispering under his breath. “Make sure you get my good side, Maren.”
“I did,” I laugh-whisper back. “Besides, I can make any side your good side with angles and light.”
Locke takes a few practice swings. I wait behind my viewfinder.
“What do you like to take pictures of when you’re not working?” he asks, still barely audibly.
“People,” I joke, “not playing golf.”
I decide against this lens and choose my longer range camera draped over my right shoulder and take one quiet picture of Locke in his backswing. With that golf club that I’ll forever think about.
After he finally tees off, the crowd noise rises and someone yells, “Get in the hole!”
Locke sidles over to the rope the crowd is contained behind. He pulls a golf ball out of his pocket and signs it with a permanent marker a little boy is holding out before handing it back to him. Locke says something I can’t make out, and the boy jumps up and down ecstatically.
Landon smirks and lets out a long, “Borrrring,” before he looks up at the sky. “It’s weird how perfect it is today when there is supposedly a hurricane on the way.”
“There’s a hurricane on the way?” I ask back at a normal decibel.
It certainly doesn’t look like it. The blue that stretches across the sky is deep and bright and steady, all one uniform color like nothing could disturb it.
“Yeah,” he chuckles. “You’re from here, right?”
“I am,” I say slowly.
My phone buzzes against my leg. As I slide it out of my little shorts, I find Locke staring at me with a tight grip around his driver, and his thumb running over the top of it.
Hottie Icicle
Who should tell him how hard you came on my golf club last night?
Me
I don’t even think he’s old enough to drink.
“Are you prepared?” Landon asks, pulling my attention away even though a scathing fire has been lit inside me. “Or are you evacuating?”
“No idea,” I laugh, “considering I just learned this information.”
Anxiety spikes. I wouldn’t want to be caught by myself on Locke’s huge piece of property with no electricity. It would be dark for metaphorical miles. Locke would be states away in a matter of hours thanks to a private jet, and I’d be fumbling around for a birthday candle if I could manage to break into his house. He probably doesn’t even own a birthday candle.
Me
Are we prepared for this hurricane I didn’t know was coming?
Hottie Icicle
Yes.
Me
Are you evacuating?
Hottie Icicle
