“I'll race ya, Nahlia?,” says Tayt.

By the time I find a hitchhiker's ledge worth standing on, Tayt was already free-riding. I could already see the oceanfront. It moves closer as I grab the handle bar and swing. The motor vibrates and my driver revs his engine for speed. I grab a coin from his donation container and put it back in. He looks at me annoyed, but I shrug him off.

“It's the Cepertine sands,” I flirt. “Let me ride free.”

The driver rolls his eyes at me and drives faster. The tires screech as the beach approaches. I loved being a ground dweller, but I wished I enjoyed it like I used to. Ever since I had left my house, the raw emotion wasn't there. It was once the place I relaxed. Now it was just an idling fantasy deep inside my head. Some days I wished away the times from me. Other days I liked giving Tayt his fair share of stupid fun. Excitement fills my purple eyes. We had reached the beach-front parking lot. I hop off, letting the momentum carry me.

“Yes! We're here.”

The first grains of beach sand blend into the pavement and I run passed the jungle bushes. My grippy sandals leave my feet and I carry them with me after Tayt. He was already at a row of booths, dodging the moving flocks of people that walked by. People were still finding places to spread out from each other on the beach. It was crowded, but there was still plenty of room.

There were all sorts of people. The tradition was practically the only week, when, those from the sky, sea, and ground didn't harass each other. We put it aside and enjoyed the moment. I wondered why it couldn't always be like this, but I was used to it. Some nearby ground dwellers look at me and laugh.

“Whatever.” I bite my tongue.

I never imagined buying myself bargain clothes, but that was about all I could afford now. My situation still didn't keep style from being an issue. Promotional names and freebie shark's teeth bands were always in circulation. You just had to find the right people for the brand names, and Tayt was good at finding the holes in the wall. As long as it wasn't a bullet hole, I couldn't complain. The last year or so had been pretty peaceful. Besides, I had to make the most of my time. I couldn't sulk. Only a Ryoken nutcase would stand against the sands of time and try to force them to blow differently. That's how they were rumored to be. I run up to Tayt. He had found a new gun.

“Hey. You have a petal for this, or something?,” asks Tayt. He looks at me and holds out his new toy. I watch him inspect a mercenary handgun. It had a giant aqua-marine sticker on it with writing. I take a look at the label.

“Bonus buy: Double the hurt. Now, with more gunmetal! Great...”

I shake my head. I watch Tayt inspect the handgun again. His fingerprints smear on its metallic surface, exposed from the plastic covering. There was an extra clip space hooking to its side. The extra clip was sold separately at the next booth.

Tayt gives a wry smile at his reflection on the handgun. He looks at the price tag and pays the price. A man smiles back at him.

“Thanks man. You come back, I'll give you some bullets free.”

“Look, Nahlia. I'm uncle-ready,” laughs Tayt. He pretends to squeeze the trigger a few times and looks at me. “Uncle. Uncle. Uncle. Ned.,” he says.

“I don't even care!,” I say with a shout. I try not to laugh, but Tayt tickles me.

We head off get some batter friend goodness. I was next to the smoothie stand.

Stolen novel; please report.

A minute later, I slurp on something tropical.

“Hey James. Check this out!,” I hear Tayt say. James had finally joined up with us. He still had two different colored eyes. His words spill out.

“Hey Nahlia. Hey Tayt.”

“No one does that anymore, James,” I say, looking at his eyes. James looks at me. He nods and grumbles, then takes his contacts out. Tayt pulls his attention again. He pulls a lever on his handgun, forcing it to change colors when he painted his target. It made killing so easy and it did it with style. It felt wrong to me, but something about Tayt made me laugh with him. He liked the way it felt to hold life and death in his hands. It reminded him of the sky platform, when I stopped him from shooting Ned. He often gave me kisses, saying they were a gift from tomorrow. I helped him choose life. Tomorrow wouldn't be here, if I had let him shoot his biggest enemy.

The evening comes. It had been a long day of swimming and sun-bathing. We all decide to head to the beach-front restaurants. They stuck out like a row of teeth across the sand and the crowds weren't too bad. The waves crash behind us as we get closer. The sea birds call and hover.

I step onto the pavement in front of the shops. A cloth petal flutters down the asphalt to join the other litter to the sides of the building. The pavement was disconnected, just an oasis of street, made with leftover material. A door rings and I cover my arms from the cold inside.

Inside there was a short line. The counter was filled with various things to choose from. I look behind the glass and back at the others.

“Hey, Nahlia. I won a bet with James. He's buying.”

“Sure thing, kid,” exhales James.

“What did you bet?,” I ask naturally. The two were always up to something.

Tayt shakes his head. Everyone was headed for the beachfront restaurants now and those unfortunate enough to be left behind were stuck waiting. They deserved it though. Life circled around the beaches and the celebrations belonged to everyone. You couldn't expect someone to hold your spot. It was one of the few times of the year Tayt knew he wouldn't be harassed for waiting in line. It was still the ground.

An unfriendly pedestrian bumps into Tayt and he cusses out loud. With a shake of his head, he turns himself around, but the moment takes him. vHe never expected to see someone he knew in the crowds, especially my uncle.

“Hold up, James,”says Tayt with his new gun.

I grab Tayt. “Don't do anything stupid. My uncle didn't even notice us,” I glare.

Tayt shakes my hand off him. He still wanted to give my uncle some pay back for nearly killing us. I pull Tayt back in line to us and James helps me.

“Listen to your friend. She's hungry,” he adds.

Tayt's handgun taps against his leg. The weight in his pouch bumps against his shins, as he locks eyes with the glass door. He hated my uncle and found him repulsive.

“Hey, we're next in line,” I say. I push Tayt forward and he orders the most expensive thing. I could feel James groan inside, so I do it too. I was going to make James regret hanging out with us.

“Some of that and that, please.” I hear myself speak, lifting a price tag higher than Tayt.

“Show off,” exhales Tayt, out loud.

Tayt stares at me grabs the shark's teeth around my middle. He stretches them and they snap back against my stomach.

“Would you never ever do that again!,” I say. I give Tayt a quiet and wrathful look. Suddenly, James does it too. He was angry about the price tag. The three of us get our food and sit down. Tayt and I sit together in the booth and James joins us on the other side.

The hour passes and Tayt inhales deeply.

“So, you still didn't tell what the bet was,” I say to them.

“Oh, God. Don't tell her, Tayt.” sighs James.

Tayt shrugs. I give him a hard shake. “You'd better tell me. I can always walk home with someone else,” I add. Tayt doesn't take me seriously. I didn't have any other friends. I flatten my expression, but finally Tayt tells me. I give him another shake. He was happy to win the bet.

“James thought he'd find someone who loves him today, and he didn't. He got rejected like eight times.”

“Yeah yeah....” mumbles James. His hand smacks the machine gun by his side and he frowns.

“We love you, James,” I interject.

James smiles. “You know, the best part of being rejected is the adventure after.”

Tayt and I look over at James puzzled.

“You know. The adventure with myself in the shower,” James continues. James crosses his eyes. He mocks himself with a small conversation. “Hi, I'm James. I own an antique shop. Hi James. I noticed you're hiring, and need a helping hand.”

An awkward silence covers the table.

“Never be that lame again, James,” replies Tayt, putting his food down.

“Bad James,” I add. I flatten my expression with a slow nod.

“It will work out for you one day.”