Here is a new story, it's a very small fandom and know it will not get reviews or views.
There was nothing like the summer.
Under the summer sun, I feel the warmth of those brilliant rays, of light granting us new vibrant colors, softly brushing smiles upon faces and hearts. I see the jazz begin in the way folks walk, in the way their eyes dance upon meeting. Perhaps that's why the warmth comes from within just as much, why the playing begins from youngest to old. It's when the laughter gets dialed up and jokes run free; it's when hugs travel on the breeze as sweet as any summer bloom.
An ever-present voice chimed in cutting off my daydreaming, "Elizabeth," it was my best friend, Peggy. You couldn't find a better friend, Betty and Joan sit with us. Our parents playing shuffleboard somewhere at the resort while we soak up the sun watching the water and waves.
Misquamicut Resort was not much for the younger generation, but the beach was, while our parents had a good time we just laid out. I question, "Are any of you ready to start at Stratford?" it was a super great high school, my older brother was Captain of the football team and a Senior, so at least I wouldn't be picked on.
Betty just sighed, "I guess its High school, we will be nothing there," even her tone was down.
"So." was muttered by Joan who was gawking at boys.
But above all, it is the fantastic coloring of the beach that as in image overpowers the minutiae. Above the tide-line, the grey rocks are splashed gorse-yellow with close-growing lichen, and with others of blue-green and salmon pink. Beneath them are the vivid orange-browns and siennas of wrack-weeds, the violet of mussel-beds, dead-white sand, and water through which one sees down to the bottom, as though pale green bottle-glass, to were starfish and big spiny urchins of pink and purple rest upon the broad leaves of the sea-tangle.
I stood brushing the white sand from my legs which will not tan, my mother was very adamant on sunscreen. "Let's walk," not wanting to just lay around.
As soon as I was nearly twenty feet from our towels my brother's voice howled louder than possible. "WHERE YOU GOING?" he gave me a writhing look as I waved.
"Just for a walk, Joseph," he was great but since I was his only sibling and a female it was just deemed proper for him to be watching out for his baby sister. We could hear Bobby Vee-Take good care of my baby playing as we walked. My long hair was loose and flowing down my back, it was a shade of mousy brown with light blonde highlights.
A gaggle of Greasers are perched on the flat rocks watching as any female happened to pass by, calling out crude comments. But one who was pale white with very bleached hair is staring down, right at me. "Come on before they either come down or our brothers come," we just ignore them continuing to get a drink, the heat was blistering.
But those greasers looked blitzed and that was trouble.
Joseph walked up with my beach bag in hand, "Come on little bit, time to go," like that our beach fun was done. We didn't have to walk far from the food stand to my brothers parked 961 Chevrolet Impala SS 409, he literally wouldn't hush about it.
Oh, it's black and red, ooh ahhh.
The Greasers that at least had richer parents walked up, in my brother's eyes they are trash even if their parents are respectable. I have seen some of these boys in our town, they go to the same high school that I will start attending in two days' time. "Hey there, Joseph. That is a cherry car you have," his tone was sly as he walked closer to our group.
My brothers and his friends all stepped up with this we are pushed behind them, but I peek from between his arm seeing the guy smoking, in fact, they all were. "It is and the answer is no, you greasers can beat feet," the tough guy stood taller now his poster no longer relaxed.
"You want to rumble?"
Mark answered, "Not here, but we are solid,"
In no way was this the time as I grasped my brothers' arm, his own Blue eyes bore into my more emerald colored ones. "Come on," my voice weak but this just made his protective instincts kick in.
Joseph growled out, "Your candyasses are lucky my baby sister is here, but another time,"
Us younger siblings are hauled to his waiting car, but the blond one just smiled and watched not saying a word.
Later that night I made my exit as my brother had already left to see Jane his steady girl, my parents off in the clubhouse playing some older game that would bore the socks off most of us younger generation.
A voice, he had that rich, silky tone. He speaks as if he controls the world, his experience seeping through. He would remind you of a stormy day. A nice one. It was the greaser from the beach the pale one with the bleached hair.
He spoke, "Names Vinnie, and yours?"
This was wrong my brother would bug out. But I smiled, "Elizabeth Monroe," he was leaned against the wall like a predator who was gazing at his pray.
His eyes are hazel with those rich earthy tones to them. "Cute name,"
I just held the pop in my hands as he seemed to be looking into my very soul, he smirked. "I will be seeing you around, Lizzie," like that he strode off without a care as I entered my room. My heart as racing either with fear or jubilance.
Whispering to no one, "Not if my brother finds out,"