Imprint by Annmarie McQueen Page A

playing at the shore together when they were young. He always thought that the next time it would still be him.
    He heard a laugh drift from where Hayden’s head bobbed up and down with the waves, and Drew could be seen trying to float on his back. It was probably hurting him physically, but he didn’t show it. He looked too happy. The ache Sean felt intensified with longing; he didn’t hate beaches anymore he decided, he wanted to be there. He wanted to be surrounded by the sea and be happy and alive like Drew was. Carefully he waded into the water himself, but he couldn’t feel it. Like he had expected . What gave him the stupid hope that things would suddenly reverse just because he wanted them to?
    They came out twenty minutes later, both shivering and with blue lips. Their clothes were plastered to their bodies and Hayden made a mad dash for the towels, reaching them first and draping one over his little brother. Sean scowled: Hayden had never shown that sort of affection towards him. What was suddenly different? They changed quickly, both smiling still.  It was nauseating. “I’m glad you suggested this,” Hayden said. “I feel like a kid, but in a good way.”
    “Me too,” Drew agreed. “Although I think we’re both going to have colds next week.”
    “Worth it, though.”
    “God s , I’m freezing,” Drew complained. “Let’s go to a restaurant and eat something, I’m hungry as well.”
    “No surprise there,” Hayden chuckled, but obliged anyway. When did Hayden ever listen to him like that?
    They went to a pub, and or dered fish and chips and beer . “It’s what you’re supposed to have when you come to the seaside,” Hayden explained, stabbing at a chip and devouring it.
    “I know,” said Drew. “When was the last time we came?”
    “Years ago. Five, maybe, I’ m not sure. ”
    There was a pause for a moment, and Drew fiddled with his fork and stared down at his plate. “Not since dad left, right?” he asked quietly. Sean gave a start in surprise at the mention of his father, wondering why Drew would ask about something like that . He listened avidly for Hayden’s answer though; maybe this time would be different. Maybe something would slip out, while he was on a happy high and caught unaware.
    “You’re right,” Hayden murmured softly, finally. “It’s been a while.”
    “Did he take us here often?”
    “He worked a lot; he didn’t have much spare time. But we came here twice a year, maybe, for a barbeque on the beach.”
    “That sounds nice,” Drew said wistfully, so wistful that Sean had to wonder if he was still acting or not.
    “Yeah,” Hayden agreed. “Dad always liked the sea. Said it was calming and natural, he liked things that were calm.”
    “Do you miss him?” Drew asked suddenly, eyes sparking slightly with some unidentifiable emotion.
    Hayden seemed uncomfortable with the question, and Sean didn’t blame him. “No,” he said bluntly. “I don’t care about him anymore, not since he left.”
    “Really?”
    “Yeah, really.”
    “You do, though,” Drew persisted.
    “Why do you think that?” Hayden snapped, irritated now.
    “Because,” and a sad smile grew on the oth er’s face. “You still call him dad .”
    And Sean realised too. Da d was different from Father . Father only implied a blood relation, while Dad was a term of endearment. Subtle differences, but in this case those differences were like chasms.
     
     
     
    By the time they arrived home, it was late. Late and dark. They’d gone to the Astrology exhibit, because Drew had promised, and Sean didn’t find it so bad. He could see why Hayden found the stars so fascinating: they really were enchanting when you took the time to think about them. They were mystical objects, so far out of reach, so alien to the monotony of this life. He’d hoped that there would be some sort of psychology exhibit as well, something paranormal, anything that would help him. He was disappointed though