As Callie drove her yellow Jeep Wrangler, she kept stealing glances at the man in her passenger seat. He was messing with that seat until it was reclined at an acceptable degree. He laid there with his eyes closed and hands behind his head.

"Do you just find me attractive or is there another reason you keep looking at me?" He asked.

Blushing, she ignored his comment and said, "Don't you think you ought to look out the window? See if anything looks familiar?"

"Mm, no. I am pretty sure I have never been here."

"As sure as someone with amnesia can be?"

"Sure. Wake me up when we get there."

Callie bit her tongue, tempted to just pull over and kick him out. It was becoming increasingly obvious that this bossy attitude was just part of his charming personality. Taking a deep breath, she flipped on her radio. There is nothing a bit of music cannot fix.

They pulled into the drive and he proceeded to follow her to the concrete steps on the side that lead down to her floor. Even though her dad was not home and she did have her own key, it seemed rude to go through his front door. Her new charity case paused at the top of the stairs taking in the view. "You live on the beach. That's perfect."

"High market value but can't complain. Well, I supposed you can during hurricane season. But that is what insurance is for." They walked in after she took her sandy flip flops off. "Welcome to my humble abode. This floor is mine. Upstairs is off limits. That's where my dad lives. Pretty self explanatory. There's the kitchen and we are standing in the living room. I don't have a table cause this island counter is huge. The laundry room is an unfinished hell hole tucked under the stairs. Here is the bathroom. That is important. And through that door is my room."

He stood there looking around. "And my room is...?"

"You are standing in it. This couch folds out to a comfy king size bed," she said pushing her small glass coffee table against the wall below the TV to free up the space. "I just need to get you some sheets from my closet. Be right back."

As she turned to go, she remembered something really important. "Oh... um... just to be clear, my bedroom is also off limits to you."

He looked at her confused then quickly grasping her meaning, he inclined his head and scoffed, "That will not be an issue."

"Right." Good thing I don't have much of an ego or that would've stung. After dressing his new bed, she turned to find him standing there arms crossed. "There you go."

"It will suffice," he said.

"You're welcome?" He didn't seem to register her tone or if he did, it didn't faze him. "So have you remembered anything?"

"Yes. My name is Triton."

"Triton? Are you sure about that?"

"Yes. That's what I said. Why? Do you not like it?" He asked offended.

"No! I mean, yes, I mean– no, I don't not like it. It's a great name, just not very common. That's wonderful. Anything else you remember?"

"Nothing of consequence. Look, I will just need a few days to rest and find someone."

"Someone? So you remember someone?" She asked completely confused.

"Yes. That is exactly what happened. I remembered I was looking for someone. You look young. Perhaps you will be able to help me find her."

"Yes! Totally!" The more time Callie spent here with this person, the more she felt like something was off. She didn't feel in danger but there was no denying he was weird. Cute but weird. If he remembered someone, he would leave. "What does she look like?"

"She is about my age, nineteen years old. Hair color may have changed. But she would have the same colored eyes as me."

He is college age. That tracks with my woke-up-drunk-naked-on-a-beach theory. A snobby, rich frat boy fit perfectly with his persona. But where did this girl line up in his story?

"Okay... anything else?"

"She is shorter than me," he supplied with nonchalance.

A lot of girls are, sir.

"Well, I kinda just moved here not long ago so I don't know anyone. But I do know a popular spot in town people like to go hang out." She had been meaning to go, but always felt like it would be awkward to go alone. She would much rather stay home and play scrabble with her dad.

"Perfect. You will take me there. Let us go."

"Whoa, hold up," she said instinctively grabbing onto his arm.

He flinched back causing her arm to fall. "Don't touch me."

"Oh. Okay. Sorry... I won't touch you. I was just going to say it's too early. No one would be there yet. Besides I can't take you looking like that."

"What is wrong with the way I look? You didn't seem to have a problem with it."

"That's–I never said-— I mean, ugh, I meant your clothes!"

He furrowed his eyebrows looking down at the striped tshirt and sweatpants he had on. "What's wrong with these clothes? You gave them to me."

"Yes, I know, but we are going to a club. You'll need to wear something more fitting and you definitely have to wear shoes."

"How troublesome. Fine! Go fetch me a more suitable outfit."

"We will have to go to the store. My dad's casual clothes won't fit you. And if you're going to be staying here for even just the next couple of nights, you will need clothes of your own."

And that was how she ended with 'Triton', still having doubts that that is his actual name, at the local thrift shop. She stared dumbfounded at the pile of clothes he had accumulated. Her dad had always been a modest shopper. She was used to making sure he had decent clothes to wear. She thought Triton would be just as low maintenanced, which was why she said, "Pick whatever you like".

Or maybe she thought he would be considerate about the money she spent on him and only pick a couple of outfits. She thought she may have to convince him to pick out more clothes. Why she would think that? No clue...

"Wow... um..."

"What? What's wrong?" He looked at his full shopping cart then back up at her.

"N-nothing. I did say whatever you like."

"You did."

"Yes, I sure did." She pursed her lips. "But do you really need so many shirts?"

"What's wrong with these shirts?"

"Well, no, nothing. The yellow shirts remind me of spongebob."

"Am I supposed to know what that means? Are you saying I don't look good in yellow?"

Callie thought he could pull off a brown paper bag and no woman in her right mind would complain, but that would not save her credit card. She nonchalantly shrugged and looked away. He huffed and picked out all the yellow shirts. While he put back those shirts, she threw out other items in his absence, feeling a hundred times better now that a discount store was not going to bankrupt her.

🐬🐬🐬

The club Callie brought TRITON to was called Below the Deck. When she said it was a popular spot, she was not exaggerating. The place was packed with bodies. Many of those bodies rubbed up against one another to the deafening sound of bass drops and auto tuned rapping.

Triton immediately started looking around for a familiar face. The neon lights bouncing off the walls concealed how his eyes glowed. His people were accustomed to seeing in the darkest of places.

Callie managed to stick close to his side, without touching him, her brown eyes taking it all in. Despite shuffling her feet and looking uncomfortable, there were plenty of eyes, male and female, devouring her. Small wonder. In her short white dress that contrasted her tan skin and dark hair and hugged her body in all the right places, she stuck out in the most complimenting of ways.

Approaching the bar, she leaned up close on the tip of her toes to be heard, unaware that his hearing was more evolved than humans. Ignorance is adorable. "Do you see her?"

He winced. She had screamed the question right in his ear. Maybe not so adorable. "Lower your voice. I can hear you just fine."

"What?" She yelled.

He took her by the shoulders steering her around to sit on the only open seat at the bar. Leaning so close that his lips almost grazed her ear, he said, "I'm going to look around. We will leave if I can't find her."

She twirled around stopping him from leaving. "We should stick around for a couple of hours. She may come late?"

He made a face. This place was already giving him a headache, but it would be a waste to come here only to miss her. "Fine."

He left CALLIE at the bar, disappearing into the crowd. She rapped her knuckles on the scuffed surface. Beside her, a few guys were playing that game where they spread their fingers out and stab a knife in the spaces between as fast as they could, adding to the many scratches on the bar. She looked away, sure she was going to see blood any second.

Focusing on the scenery, she admired the nautical view. It was her first time in a club or bar, period. Below the Deck was arranged as if its partygoers and guests were aboard a wrecked ship of a tentacled sea monster attack. The DJ booth was stationed in a grounded crow's nest and the big wheel was behind the bar along with fake bronze tentacles that curled up and around the surrounding structures. She looked to the dance floor and saw a train of girls twerking against each other. The guys didn't really dance. They bobbed up and down grabbing onto the drunk girls' waists.

"Would you like anything, Miss--- Callie! What are you doing here?" Adam greeted her, leaning across the bar. "You just can't stay away from me. Can you?"

"Oh, I-I didn't know you worked here."

"Yeah, sure you didn't. Just started working here a couple of weeks ago. Pretty sure I've mentioned it to you. Wasn't getting enough hours on lifeguard duty, ya know? It's a decent job. They teach you how to mix all kinds of drinks. Speaking of which, what do you want? First drink is on me, beautiful." He winked.

"Oh... that's really nice of you. But no thanks. I don't drink."

"Oh c'mon. I will make you something special. Hold on."

"Um... okay." He was already taking out bottles and glasses so her protests died on her lips.

He sat a pretty blue drink in front of her, topping it with a cherry and little umbrella. "This is a Blue Lagoon: one part vodka, one part blue curacao, and four parts lemonade. I figured you to like the frilly, sweet drinks. Try it."

She took a sip. It was citrusy with an orange tang to it. She nodded when he asked if she liked it.

"Told ya. So, who are you here with?"

"Um... you remember that guy–"

"Yo, Adam! Another round of shots!" Adam's friend hollered slamming his hands down on the bar.

"Another? Take it easy on Hayden. You know he doesn't drink!"

His friend laughed. "That is why we want to get him drunk. He needs it. When is your shift over, man?"

"Not anytime soon. If Hayden gets sick, it's on you!" His eyes slid back to Callie as he prepared the shots and explained, "You remember Hayden, right? My little brother?"

His friend turned his attention to Callie widening his eyes. "Who is this fine creature?"

"And this doofus is Dion. Dion, Callie. Callie, Dion," Adam said.

"Callie, eh?" Dion smiled deviously. "The Callie? Did you come here to see this idiot?"

"Huh? Oh. No. I came with a friend." Friend seems the most appropriate word, she supposed. Or most convienant one to avoid further questions.

"Well, while Adam finishes his shift, you and your friend can come hang out with us on the patio. Adam says you're new and don't have lots of friends."

"I didn't say it like that," Adam quickly interjected before being summoned away to the other end of the bar.

"Come on," Dion coaxed her.

She followed him out, tired of waiting for Triton to come back. There wasn't much Callie could do to find the girl without a photo to go off of anyway. She wondered if he had any luck finding her. It may be too much to hope he would find her so soon.

Adam's group of friends sat at a table outside on the covered patio, a designated place for smokers, though the ashtray at their table remained clean. Callie recognized them easily. They frequently came to the beach to socialize with Adam when he was on duty.

"Hey, guys! Look who I found!" Dion called out presenting her like a third grader at show n tell. "Callie, this is Matt, Trevor, Hayden, Ashley, Delphi and Clarissa."

She gave an awkward wave positive she was not going to remember all those names. The girls in the group offered polite smiles with no real interest. The boys, however, made room for her to sit.

"What's up, Callie?" Matt greeted her. His hair was spiked up with gel and he wore his short sleeve Hawaiian shirt completely unbuttoned to show off his abs. He reminded Callie of one of those birds of paradise that preens his feathers to attract mates.

"Nothing much," she mumbled. How else does one answer that question?

"Okay, time for shots. Callie, do you want one? You can have mine," Trevor said. He had a buzz cut that was not a good choice for his freckled long face and diamond studs in his ears.

"Or she can have mine. I really don't want it," Hayden said. Adam's younger brother was skinny with shaggy hair. From the way he slouched and his bored tone, he was not having a good time.

"Me neither," the petite girl who Dion had called Delphi said. She was pretty though she was not wearing any makeup like the other two girls. Her light pink, long sleeve dress was modest, but cute. Her thick brown hair looked smooth to the touch. Her shiny blue eyes hardly left Hayden.

"No thanks. I'm just gonna stick to my drink." She took a sip from her glass to back up her statement.

"Didn't think we'd see you here. Adam better act fast if he wants to keep you to himself," Matt laughed.

She didn't know how to react to that. What has Adam been telling them that they would think she belongs to him? "I'm just here with a friend."

"Oh, where is she? She can come over, too," Trevor said. "We don't bite!"

"He is looking for someone---"

"There you are," Triton said.

"Triton." Callie turned to find that he was not talking to her. His attention centered on the girl at the end of the table, Delphi.

Delphi's beautiful blue eyes were wide with shock.

Callie: Okay. *clears throat* Why did the fisherman do drugs?
..
Triton: *silence*

Callie: pier pressure. Get it?

Triton: Not really.

Ha.

Vote.