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I hated my aunt's summer cabin. There were always cobwebs that hid in corners and wherever my arms happened to go. There were leaks in the ceilings and in the chimney. The only reason I ever really went and slept on a mattress filled with spiders was because there was a beach fifteen minutes from it... and my aunt was alone most of the time. That was why I would spend half of my summers playing 'cleanup' with Aunt Lilith and my sister Trish (short for Patricia, of course).

I thought of the flat mattresses she had us sleep on with disdain as Trish and I sat with Aunt Lilith in the car. Trish and Lilith sat in the front seat, singing along with the Grease soundtrack. The windows were opened, and the sun beat on my face, counteracting the fresh breeze of the ocean that I could smell already. I quickly slipped on my sunglasses.

Trish turned to me, and beamed.

"Jamie, sing with us! Summer Nights is the best song on this track!" she said. I shook my head.

"I'm okay. I have to think about how I'm getting to that beach as quickly as I can," I answered. Trish laughed.

"We'll get you there. If Aunt Lilith won't take you right away, I'll drive," nineteen year old Trish said. I looked at the window again. Trees filled my view. "Sour already, aren't you?" Trish asked.

"If you mean tired already, then yes," I responded. She faced forward again as Lilith restarted Summer Nights. I didn't like Grease. Everything about it was unrealistic. Trish was always a dreamer though, and so was Aunt Lilith. It didn't surprise me that they loved it so much.

"Aunt Lil, I hope I find my summer love this year," Trish gushed to our aunt, who laughed in response.

"Why do you think I bring you to the beach every year?" she asked. I scoffed to myself.

"The beach is too cliché," I added under my breath. Trish glared at me from the corner of her eye.

The car pulled into a narrow path, where branches reached out to take us into piles of dead leaves. The song changed, and I ignored it. I dreaded my fate. No air conditioning, no internet, limited electricity. The only thing I had to look forward to was the ocean, and maybe the sand. No, not the sand. Screw the sand. It always found it's way to get into the weirdest places, and stay there. I always managed to get it in my mouth. The ocean's okay, though.

Aunt Lil pulled up in front of the cabin, nestled in the woods... where no one can hear you scream.

Well, not no one. About a three minute walk down the road there is a neighbor. Stanley, maybe? I could never remember his name. He always wore one of those hats that said 'Vietnam Veteran' on it, and a military green coat. When I was younger, and aunt Lil first bought the cabin, he would always make it a point to show us the turtle that lived in the little pond beside his cabin, and he'd give us butterscotch. I never had the heart to tell him I hated butterscotch. He always gave me two, and Trish one. Maybe that was because I was never skinny, and he assumed I liked all candy.

Way to stereotype, Stan.

He's not the only one, though. I always had a knack for being stereotyped. Especially the one that rolled off of everyone's tongue in such a disdainful manner (school, what more can I say?).

Lesbian.

Yeah, I'm a lesbian. So what? If I went around and called everyone out on their differences, people would be on edge. So why me? Oh yeah. I'm a woman, who is gay, who is slightly overweight. I never even told anyone I was. I never knew how they found out.

I forgive Stan. He was at least stereotyping in the least harmful way I have ever been stereotyped. Love you, Stan.

She opened the exterior door to the cabin, which Trish held back. Lil tried to open the interior door, which happened to be stuck to the doorway. I held my duffle-bag of clothing and everything I needed, and watched as Lil fiddled with the keys and with the door. She laughed.

"Wow. This door hates me. A lot," she said.

"Get Jamie to slam into it," Trish said.

"Not cool, dude," I said with an eye roll.

"Actually..." Lil said. "It looks like the paint on the door," which was a hideous green, no less, "warmed up, melted to a degree, and dried again. So, I'll try to 'slam into it,'" Lil said in an almost scolding manner. That stupid paint just meant that she hadn't been to the cabin at all since last fall. That meant even more spiders than before.

Great.

She slammed into the door, which opened it... and also happened to break it off of its hinges. She and the door fell onto the ground.

"Crud," Lil said. "At least the other door locks. Not saying we'll need for it to be locked."

"No, lock it," Trish said, stepping over Lil. "Stan down the road is creepy."

"Hey!" I shouted, pointing my finger at her intently, "you shut up about him. He's wonderful. Or else, your words be fightin' words!" Both of them looked at me quizzically. I cleared my throat awkwardly. "Sorry, I feel very strongly about Stan."

"Whatever," Trish mumbled, before turning to Lil as she stood. "If we get changed, can you take us to the beach?"

Lil brushed the dust off of herself.

"Yes, I'll take you. Hurry up though, or those beach boys will be taken by the time we get there," she teased. Trish took her bags, and ran back into our shared room. I followed more slowly. I sat outside of the room, waiting for her to finish before I went in. She loved to wear bikinis. Quite frankly, she wasn't as insecure as I ever was. She wore brightly colored bikinis, and those circular sunglasses with the white frames. I, on the other hand, wore a one-piece bathing suit. Plain blue -- just the way I like it. When she and I go to the beach, or anywhere near water, Trish leaves her long blonde hair flowing, and I tie my dull brown hair back into the most pathetic looking ponytail.

Aunt Lil got into her room. Trish left out room, in her bikini, and made her way to the bathroom. I sighed, and went into the room, which, no doubt, had cobwebs in every corner.

Kudos, summer.

Our car pulled up, and parked in a small, tolled parking lot right in front of the sand. Lil and Trish were wearing flowing, light sundresses over their bathing suits. Of course, throwing the wrench in their act, I wore something completely different. Shorts and a tank top.

When we got on the beach, aunt Lil set up a chair, and got her romance novel. She was content sitting and reading. Trish discarded her sundress, and sprinted toward the closest pick-up game of volleyball.

I sat back toward the boardwalk.

I loved doing that. I still have the breeze that clears my sinuses, and the gentle lapping of waves, but none of the annoying beach people that try to get you to play frisbee and whatever. Not to mention, I'm never so close to the water that I have to see those old men in speedos that happen to love the beach.

Now those are horrific sights.

Those kinds of sights make me happy that I'm gay.

For a while, I sat by myself, sifting sand through my fingers. I was humming Summer Nights, which got stuck in my head because it played so often on the car ride.

Suddenly behind me, I heard a voice.

"Jamie!" shouted a female voice, which was unfamiliar to me. A dog came up to me, and started licking at me. I turned to the source of the voice. A girl with short, blonde, layered hair, that was dyed purple toward the back, held a leash. I'd never seen her before in my life. Her eyes were a deep blue -- so deep, the shade was like the night's sky.

I hated myself then and there... because Summer Nights played in my head even louder.

"Sorry," she said with a laugh, "my dog Jamie tends to run off." She neared me, and hooked the leash back up to her dog's collar. Figures. She looked at me with a smile. "What's your name?" 1

"Ah... Jamie," I said. She chuckled and knelt beside her dog.

"I'm Iris," she said, putting a hand out. I shook it weakly.

"I -- uh -- I like your hair," I said.

"Thanks. It's meant to resemble the Iris flower, but I think all it did was dye my hands purple for a week," she said.

"No, I got it," I said.

"You're one of few who actually got it. No one knows about Irises. Actually, a few do, but think my hair is stupid," she said. I scoffed.

"I think your hair is wonderful," I said. I could feel my face getting red. Uh-oh su-ummer nights. "Just like you! So, uh, tell me more about you." She smiled and sat beside me, having her dog lay on the sand in front of us.

"Well, as I said, I'm Iris. She, please," she said. I paused.

"She?" I asked. She nodded.

"And you?"

"She as well..." I paused again. He eyes were so kind, and she told me her pronouns. She's one of us. That last part was creepy, but I got the memo. I was picking up what she was putting down. "I'm... I'm -- uh -- a lesbian."

She smiled. A lot.

"I'm pan, actually!" she said. Pan. She's pan. I was thrilled.

"Are you... Are you doing anything right now?" I asked. I had no idea where all of the bravery came for asking her anything. I felt like Wonder Woman.

"Just taking care of the dog. Here, I'll run her home, and I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere," she said. She stood and ran away.

My heart was racing, and I felt like I could do anything. It must have been adrenaline. Whatever it was, it made me want to know more about this girl Everything I could. The sand didn't feel scratchy and unbearable, but it felt wonderful -- like a cloud, almost. The sun wasn't hot and stingy, it was warm, and it swaddled me in comfort. And the ocean. By jobe, I could go right in it, and hug the first old man I saw.

Then it really hit me.

Oh geez, I knew nothing about this girl, and I like her already. What if she's weird? What if she wants to sacrifice me to some heterosexual genie? What if she wants to lead me on, then watch me crumble?

No way, not a girl with hair colored like the flower she's named after. My gut said to get to know her, and that she is good... Why not throw caution to the wind like Trish?

Oh yeah... Trish. That's why. She's not the ideal 'life model.'

I would rather not be like someone who chases after boys she sees because 'they have nice noses' or who can drink a whole carton of orange juice, with pulp, in one sitting.

In almost no time, Iris was running back. She must have changed in the time she was gone, because she wore a simple, lightweight t-shirt, and short-shorts. She ran in front of me, and put out a hand. I stared at it for a moment.

"Let's go to the water," she said happily. I took her hand, and felt my cheeks get hot. Once she helped me up, she sprinted toward the ocean. I shrugged and followed her. It caught me off guard when she discarded her shirt. It was a good thing she was wearing a maroon tankini (as Aunt Lil has called those kinds) underneath everything.

I guess I worry a lot for nothing. Not surprising.

I followed along with her. She and I put our clothes in a pile, where the sand could get in them. She ran for the shallow waves that pushed at the sand, only wearing her bathing suit. I decided to keep my shorts on. I wasn't planning on going deep. I met her where the waves were only up to our shins.

"So Jamie, I haven't seen you around here before. Where are you from?" Iris asked, cocking her head to the left ever so slightly. I didn't deny to myself that it was adorable. I looked at the foamy waves that approached us before I answered. I never noticed how much the water glittered when I sat in the back of the beach.

"I don't live here, actually. I live, like, one hundred miles away or something like that. I'm just visiting with my aunt Lilith for part of the summer. She owns a cabin a fifteen minute drive from here," I said. Iris smiled, and put a hand to her brow to shade her eyes. She looked over the ocean.

"Living near the beach is great," said Iris, looking back to me, "you know, aside from the hurricanes and floods and stuff." I nodded. "Sometimes tourists are annoying. Not tourists from other countries, though. We don't get many, but when we do get them, they are either adorable, or funny. Sometimes both."

"Unfortunately, I'm one of those annoying tourists," I said with a chuckle. Iris waved away the thought.

"I doubt that," she said. There was a silence between us, standing beside each other in the cold water. A larger wave came out of nowhere, sending the frigid water up my leg. I screamed, which made Iris laugh. She looked me in the eyes. "You are hilarious. Are you free for dinner? I'd like a little satire in my life," she said. "I'm usually left with my younger brother. I babysit him a lot, which means I'm surrounded by unintelligent humor. Fart jokes, essentially."

My hands went cold... well, colder. I nodded.

"I'm sure my aunt won't be mad," I said. "Sure, I'll go with you."

"Pizza?"

"Yes," I answered contently. Inside, though, I was exploding.

Ah, man, I love fine Italian cuisine -- that is, if you consider boardwalk pizza to be fine Italian cuisine. I do, at least.

I don't get out much.

I was able to easily convince my aunt to let me go. With Iris standing right behind me, I told Lil that I wanted to go. She took a look at Iris, winked at me, and told me to have fun.

She knew what I was up to.

Iris took me into the restaurant. She obviously knew what she was doing. I followed blindly, on the opposite side of that spectrum.

The restaurant was colored with mostly reds and browns that were illuminated in a kind of dim, yellowish light. There were a few shades of green here and there, and a disturbing painting of a tomato with a realistic human face. The restaurant itself was called something like Pizano's or Famiglias or Figlio's or something to that nature.

Iris chose a booth in a corner. The table was beneath a suspended television that had a game of... baseball maybe? I don't really watch sports. I was never a fan. I used to play soccer. That was until this girl named Anne kicked me in the head with her cleats. Given, we were in a pile after someone slipped on the ball, then everyone fell over that one person.

It was a pile of screaming ten year olds.

We sat on opposite sides of the table. I was the lucky introvert who got the beach against the wall. A waitress came to our table with a smile plastered on her tired face.

"Hello ladies, I'm Julie, and I will be your server today," she set down two menus. "Can I start you off with drinks?" she asked as she whipped a small receipt pad from her black apron-belt thing.

"I'll take whatever Cola you have," Iris said. Julie scribbled down the order so far, then looked to me. I, of course, being the awkward weirdo that I am, chuckled nervously.

"I'll take the same thing," I said. Julie smiled, then tucked the pad back into a pocket on that waitress apron.

"I'll be right back with your drinks in a minute," she said. She turned, and walked toward another table.

"So, Jamie," Iris started.

"Wait. Why is that tomato painting real?" I asked. She turned and looked at it on the wall behind her.

"Yeah... I always ask myself that too. Do you paint?" Iris asked.

"Uh... I try to paint. I try to draw, too. Keyword: try," I said. Iris laughed.

"Hey, I get it," she said. "Now that it's summer, you'll have time to change trying to working, right?" I laughed with her. "Man, I love summer. What about you?"

I paused. I hated school, especially the people. Oh, the people. There were mean people, popular people, athletes, mean popular kids, popular athletes, mean athletes, nerds, mean nerds, emos -- you name it, my high school had it.

The normal high school trope or cliché is the mean athlete or the mean popular kid... but I will admit I've met some nice kids. One of my best friends, actually, plays field hockey. Jared. He's cooler than me. I also like going to his games. It's not as killer as watching ice hockey, but sometimes he and I judge the other teams afterwards. He's really good at insulting people for their terrible gameplay while simultaneously combining several curse words to create a masterful poem.

I should write it down sometime.

I also have a friend named Lily, who is both popular, and an athlete. If I remember correctly, she plays Autumn soccer, and Spring softball. I never remember what she plays -- all I know is that she's never home to hang out. The only time she and I can hang out is over the summer.

I get a break from annoying people, and hang out with the few friends I have, and go visit my aunt at the beach.

"Yeah. I guess summer is pretty cool," I answered.

Nailed it.

Julie came back with our drinks, and set down straws.

"What will you have to eat today, ladies?" she asked as she pulled out her notepad again.

I forgot to look at the menu. Crud. Thanks Jared and weird tomato painting.

"I'll take two slices of pepperoni pizza, please," said Iris, handing her menu back to Julie.

"Alrighty, and you?"

"Uh... just two slices of plain, please, thanks," I said all too quickly before handing her the menu. She finished writing, took it, and smiled at us.

"Alright, I'll bring that for you as soon as I can; thank you ladies," she said before leaving.

"We forgot to--"

"We forgot to look at the menu," I finished. She nodded with a smile.

The pizza came out within ten minutes of us ordering. Iris and I chatted all the while. We talked about our siblings, and about dogs, and the weather, and politics (which we happen to agree), and the weather, and science, and practically everything. We actually stayed for about an hour after we finished eating just to talk.

Pizza, Jared, and Lily may be my best friends, but they better watch out. Iris is growing on me.

The sun was growing close to the horizon before Iris and I left the restaurant. We walked down the boardwalk slowly. We were going back to my aunt, but not rushing.

"Are you going to come back tomorrow?" Iris asked as she looked to the rough, dried wood of the boardwalk.