Synonym
17

"Where are you going?" I placed my hand on the white trim and looked at him over my shoulder.

"Outside. You can join me if you'd like." My voice was soft and quiet because it would sound horse from crying if I spoke much louder. Not to mention disturb my father.

Finn got up from the bed and followed me through the dim house until we reached the glass sliding door where I let us out. I didn't have shoes on and neither did Finn but that didn't seem to bother him. My feet treaded across the patio tiles before hitting the soft Kentucky Blue grass. I traveled through my backyard and through a small dirt path in the woods that lead to the beach. Finn must have known were I was going because he didn't say anything.

Finn's house was a modern million dollar house on the beach while mine as a land locked mansion that was the next street over. A quick path through the heavy woods brought you right out to a part of the beach where there were no houses or public areas, only trees to line the sandy secluded beach. My father had shown me the path when we first moved here. Only certain parts of the shoreline had actual beaches instead of harsh water lines. Most of the beaches were man made but I wouldn't complain that this one was going to waste because it was basically my beach.

I walked ahead of Finn but when my feet hit the sand I slowed my pace so he could walk next to me. The warm summer-turning-to-fall air engulfed us at three in the morning, only the full moon illuminated my surroundings and my creamy skin. I didn't tan unlike my boyfriend who had a wonderful summer glow going on due to all that lacrosse practice.

I stopped when I stepped over a log my dad had put on the sand as a seat and I sat down. I was wearing a lacrosse pinny that showed a lot of side boob and a pain of grey booty shorts that said 'Notre Dame' with their catch phrase 'Fightin' Irish' printed on the corner of the left leg under the ND logo. They hadn't been my first choice but I only bought the shorts because the Navy ones didn't come in my size.

Finn wore his old Groton High lacrosse shorts low around his hips and nothing else. He had to ditch his famous track pants for summer because it was too hot. He settled on the log to the right of me and we sat in silence for a little while, just listening to the waves lapping against the shore. Eventually, I was the one to break the silence with my humming. Music always calmed my mind. It gave me something else to think about and to get lost in besides my tortured thoughts. Finn could read me like the back of his hand, so f didn't surprise me when he started to sing along.

"Feeling more human and hooked on her flesh. I lay my heart down with the rest at her feet.

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Fresh from the fields, all feeder and fur tires.

Bloody and raw, but I swear it is sweet," Finn has a husky voice but it was the tone of an angel. He had the kind of voice that made teenage girls think they were pregnant. I'll admit that I was jealous of his renaissance like talent, but it was something to admire. I loved every part of him endlessly.

"With her sweetened breath, and her tongue so mean. She's the angel of small death and the codeine scene. With her straw-blonde hair, her arms hard and lean. She's the angel of small death and the codeine scene." I switched from humming to singing softly with him, leaning my head against his solid shoulder and listening to the vibrations of his voice.

Punk rock, to rap, to alternative, to metal; Finn knew it all and could perform almost anything perfectly. It soothed me to hear his voice; like his tone was enveloping my body and protecting me. I felt connected to him. When the song ended it left us in silence, the sounds of the ocean filling our ears as Finn patiently waited for me to say something. He never pushed me in a way I didn't want. I loved that about him. Eventually, I thought of something to say and murmured it. "Sure, Connecticut isn't known for its beaches but I have a soft spot for them."

"Why's that?"

"It can be cool out and the water will still be warm from the bipolar weather. The waves are slower and more calming because of Long Island. It's unique. Some areas are like lakes, with small amounts of sand and sudden drop offs while some are like Florida with soft sand covering the shoreline. Some areas are even rocky like they are in Maine. The water isn't crystal clear but it isn't murky. It's in the middle; opaque enough to be appealing and cloudy enough to be mysterious." I don't know why I was calmly rambling about Connecticut's beaches but I was.

"A lot of the people that live here hate the beaches because it's what they're used to and they just want vacation beaches. I don't think they appreciate what they've got. It's unlike anywhere else in the country, even if it isn't conventionally beautiful. Did you know this is brackish water? The Sound is full of it. The Atlantic meets the freshwater from the water closet down in Stamford and at the mouth of the Connecticut River. It's all stays trapped in the Sound thanks to Long Island." I murmured while staring out at the dim horizon where black met dark navy blue with specks of white moonlight mixed in. The beach calmed me, it was a special place for me.

"Did you know you can Kayak all the way down to the mouth of the Connecticut River from Great North Woods, New Hampshire? My dad and I did it when I was 14. We drove up and did the whole day trip back down the water. It was like 12 hours but it was so much fun." Finn recalled his memories from childhood. "It's the longest river in the North East. 410 miles of fresh water from Forth Connecticut Lake on the New Hampshire/Montreal boarder." The river let out just a few miles from here in Old Saybrook and Old Lyme, CT.

"CT is named after the Connecticut river. 'Quinnehtukqut' was the Mohegan word for 'long tidal river'." I added into his trivia spiel. It was an odd and random conversation but I was enjoying it. It took my mind off of the real world which I so desperately needed to forget about.