Darkwater Summers Ch. 01

(*-*-*Author's Note: Well, it's been a while since I've posted a new story. I initially made this account to practice writing stories as fast as possible and not get bogged down in perfectionism and procrastination but in the end did so anyway. I'll try to update as much as I can, hopefully get back to actually finishing my stories rather than tucked away in hundreds of unfinished draft folders. Not much hot and heavy sex, with this one, as I'd prefer to establish the set up and characters first. To those followers that take the time to read my stories, despite my amateur attempts and mistakes, thank you so much.*-*-*)

Fenris had come to realize he'd never been more afraid of the wind until this very moment. Afterall, it was nothing more than just moving air. A brief respite on a hot day. Another gust passed and his heart damn near leapt out his throat. He stood, legs shaking like maracas as the air bellowed and the steel beam he stood on wobbled sixty feet off the air.

Amidst all that, a question lanced its way through the turmoil of bladder control and acid reflex: What was he doing up here? It was all lost to him, as he questioned the decisions he made in his life up to this point. Just then, another big gust made the cables swing so ferociously he had to grip them so tight his palms went white. The voices of his friends all rang out to him sixty feet below, as they swam about happily and without worry. Where they ever his friends? Truly? And was that laughing he heard? He could feel their eyes despite the distance and they were all watching. Watching and Laughing. Through the hateful fucking wind, almost tearing his body from his soul, they were laughing at him?

How dare they.

It was for them he did this stupid shit.

Oh, how stupid he felt.

Sixty- - maybe even seventy feet off the water, he stood atop an old steel ballast dangling by two flimsy steel cables that swayed with each graze of a passing breeze, thighs shaking and bladder weakening. The Ship Graveyards was littered with the colossal corpses of old warships, tankers and cruise liners from the War. Their gigantic steel carcasses littered the bay area locals called the Graveyards. Despite the dismal name, it was one of the most beautiful waters in the region with its rich, clear, blue-green waters abundant with life and pristine white sands. It also made for a kick-ass hangout and makeout point.

Fenris never thought winds could be this strong. Too strong. His bladder tightened and his stomach went backflipping on top of his intestines, threatening to expel the pieces of seafood and beer he had earlier. His courage melted like ice left out in the open sun, as he held on for dear life on the swinging piece of steel about his arms.

Oh god, he wanted to cry too.

How foolish. Stupid, stupid!

He should never have come up here. What was the point of it all? All for what? A kiss? No matter how sweet a kiss, or whatever sweet promises that may come after, it all dried out in the first ten seconds he managed to planted his foot on this rusted piece of metal. Or the soft push of a perky pair of titties, None of it was worth this, he realized. His life flashed before his eyes. And he saw how pathetic his life had been.

Who was he kidding? He didn't hate all of it. His childhood was an amazing thing. Back when his parents were still living with them. His teenage years was another matter entirely. It was an awkward attempt at chasing after the fun of a group, just to belong.

He wasn't even properly invited to this beach party. Word was, it was only Ricky and his little group, as usual. And as usual, every kid in the neighborhood wanted in. This friend invited that friend and before you know it, almost three dozen eighteen-year-olds were having one of the best parties of the year.

No one invited Fenris. He invited himself.

No one asked or thought odd about his attendance.

Fenris was, after all, that guy you always see in the crowd. No one hated Fenris, or so he'd like to think. It was a nice little fact that Ricky and his friends knew Fenris by name and that alone was more than enough. They'd see each other at school and they know Fenris enough to say the occasional 'Hi'.

However, this time, Fenris promised to himself he wouldn't just be another face in the crowd. He was a man grown. For too many years he had just been some guy, some inbetweener. And some deep, dark part of his soul, he knew he was a bit lame.

The Ship Graveyards weren't off-limits. People can come and go as they please, at their own risk that is. No Townwatch was snooping about, not unless a couple dozen teenagers suddenly have the bright idea to have a party this big and this wild, then it was a no brainer.

There wasn't enough drinks, Ricky only ever brought the one bottle for his clique. There wasn't enough food, it was only fit for Ricky's people and the party crashers (Fenris included) were becoming peckish. Ricky was smiling then but Fenris knew that when pressured, the popular boy was prone to the occasional outbursts as opposed to his usual easygoing self. Fenris came to the conclusion about ten minutes when he first arrived in just his swimming trunks that this party was heading towards disaster and he was the only one who knew about it as the others were busy playing chicken fight in the water or set up teams for beach volleyball in the sands.

Rather sit on his ass and watch others as he was prone to do most parties, he enacted his plan. He snuck back into town, making sure to avoid the main sidewalk and stick to the alleys. Fenris' grandfather kept a stash of his own moonshine in large jugs hidden beneath their house. The hardest part of this endeavor was hauling it back by his lonesome out to the Graveyards. He made sure to bring a pair of camping grills that was collecting rust in the corner. Food was no problem, the waters were full of sea trout, flounder, abalone, sea urchin, mussels and a whole smorgasbord of sea food that made their settlement a well-traveled trading route. He just had to make sure to bring in some seasoning.

No one noticed him at first, as he set up the crate of moonshine and grill by some corner he took up to himself and went out to see with goggles and a harpoon. It didn't take him half an hour till he had a decent haul of wild oysters, crabs and trout in his net.

When the sun was high, in the middle of its zenith, people were looking hungrily at his grill and his catch. And by Fenris' reckoning, it was close to lunchtime. One of Ricky's friends, (as in actual friends) Maurice, helped Fenris cook the food and even borrowed his harpoon to add more to the fires. What was supposed to be a swimming party became a cookout and for the first time, Fenris was the center of the attention.

He liked the feeling very much.

And when he brought out the moonshine, they loved him even better.

Before he knew it, Fenris was partying with Ricky's inner circle. Ricky wrapped him by the elbow and gave him a noogie (not the hard kind but rather the playful one), and dragged him to his friends. Everyone was boozed up to this point, even Fenris. Girls he never so much as said hello to, were alarmingly close to him as they danced on the water as Maurice cranked up the stereo he brought. So close in fact, he got see the rivulets of water glisten down on Chloe Burns' cleavage, the skimpy white bikini she wore seeming to snap at any moment but hadn't. Or how surprised he was when Brooklyn Griffith 'pantsed' Ava Trujillo, revealing to those fortunate enough to catch a glimpse of her luscious bronze cheeks.

Millie Alexandra Schultz, one (if not THE) of the hottest girls in school gave him a kiss after she found out that he was the one who supplied the food and drinks. Not the innocent stuff on the cheeks but an actual kiss on the lips. For the briefest millisecond, her tongue lashed out, lightly on the top of his lips and she winked at him afterwards. The taste of cherry in her lip gloss was a drug he didn't know he needed. Next, was the goth girl, Betha. With her black hair, eyeliner and piercings, Fenris had long since been intimidated by her looks and demeanor, despite the fact they shared the same class for three years now. Still, he couldn't deny that there was something alluring about her, as pretty much every boy in class had secretly thought the same. Betha grinned mischievously at him as she pressed her chest against his back, the fabric of her bikini-top doing little in preventing her nipples from poking. Despite how small they were, he felt them all too well as his trunks struggled to hide his arousal.

It was euphoric. The drink got to his head. Dares were made, to see who could jump the highest. One thing led to another. Fenris was sure he kissed a girl, groped another with small titties and was fairly sure got to third base with another different girl, all in a span of an hour. But for the life of him couldn't remember their faces, downing his seventh glass of moonshine has that effect.

He couldn't remember clearly how he got to this point. Only that his stupid, fracking brain somehow figured out to find the HIGHEST drop point in the history of teenage stupidity in the unwritten books of Wild Party Dares.

"HOLY SHIT!" Fenris screamed, brought out of reminiscing, as the strongest gust yet stormed through. The steel cables thundered, making him almost lose control of his bowels. It felt like a lifetime since he first got here.

He was so, so tired. Were they telling him to jump? To let go? Easy for them to say.

Should he just fall? Let it be done and over with? Was there an afterlife?

Let go and let it be over with, Said a voice. But it was so far down and one hears stories how a jump from a certain height could kill a man. They said it would be safe. The Voice in his head said otherwise. There were large pieces of ship-metal, scattered about the water. Hate, Regret and Fear all blended together inside of him into a roll of emotion that never one or the other.

He didn't really know the exact moment, only that he wasn't standing still anymore.

Just falling.

Falling so fast.

Did he let go? Or has his grip finally slipped?

Whatever the case was, there was no turning back time.

It was peaceful, for the first second.

The last two, however, was utter terror.

He fell faster and faster. Too fast.

And then a smacking pain that knocked the air out of his lungs. Finally cold, cold water. Far, far colder than the air, sixty feet above.

After that, nothing. Just darkness.