Under My Skin (Wildlings) by Charles de Lint Page B

surfboard behind me. I go south, as far as I can get from the pier without trespassing on government land. The swells are small, but I just want to get out into the water and be by myself.
    It's going to be a beautiful day. There's still a bit of the night's coolness in the air, but I can tell by the sky that it's going to be clear and sunny. And hot. But right now I need my wetsuit. I zip up and kick off my sneakers. The sand is cool and grainy against my soles. I'm just about to head down to the water when I hear footsteps behind me.
    "Hey, sweetcheeks."
    I turn around to find Chaingang crossing the beach toward me and I have to shake my head. Only he would be wearing a pair of shades at this time of day. If I didn't know he was a Wildling, I'd be wondering how he can even see with those on in this poor light.
    "Don't call me that," I tell him when he reaches me.
    He pauses, then smiles. "Why not? You don't think you're some tough chica like your sister, do you?"
    "How would you know?" I'm acting like a jerk, but I can't seem to help myself.
    He lowers his shades and studies me for a long moment. I know it's just one of his poses, but I can't help but feel like he's giving me his full attention all the same.
    "You're right," he says. "I don't."
    "Maybe I'm just as tough as her. Maybe I'm tougher."
    He nods. "Yeah, you probably are."
    "What are you doing here anyway?"
    Another pause. "I thought we should talk."
    "About what?"
    "Me reaching out to Josh. I started to think later that maybe you might've wanted to do that yourself."
    When I shake my head, he lifts his eyebrows.
    "You're not planning to tell him, are you?" he says.
    "It's awkward. How am I supposed to explain why I didn't tell him earlier?"
    "The longer you wait, the harder it's going to get."
    "You think I don't know that?"
    He holds his hands up, palms out.
    "I didn't come to fight," he says. "Or point a finger. I just came to apologize if I stepped over the line."
    I really don't get Chaingang. He's done time, then went right back to the gang when he got out of juvie. Yet, when he talks to me, all of that seems to fall away to reveal some sensitive guy and it just doesn't compute with that other stuff. Plus I can't seem to bury this weird resentment that he's going all sweet and sensitive with Josh, too. I know I should be okay with it, but I'm not. I don't know why.
    "You didn't," I tell him.
    "So we're good."
    "Sure. Now I'm going to catch some waves."
    I turn without waiting for his reply and head for the water. I can feel him just standing where I left him, watching me go, but I don't look back. I paddle out to where I can catch one of the little swells. When I turn around and look at the beach again, he's gone.

    Josh

    The aftermath of the shooting seems to leave a pall over all of Santa Feliz. Elzie is restless, so we do a lot of walking. She says it helps ground her. I find it does the same for me, too.
    On Sunday evening we've wandered up as far as the old Santa Feliz Beach Boardwalk, which is an abandoned amusement park north of the pier. We sit on a bench and look through the chain-link fence at the old rusting Ferris wheel, the Tilt-a-Whirl and the other rides. There's something both sad and fascinating about the place. Every kid who lives in Santa Feliz has snuck in at one point or another, but once you're inside, it's a bit of a disappointment. The rides are small, everything's broken down and there's scrap lying around everywhere. It's only when you're looking at it from the outside that it holds on to any of its faded glamour. Especially at night, when it's all just dark shapes against the sky.
    "I'm not sure of the protocol here," I say to Elzie, "so don't get mad at me if I step out of line."
    She gives me a curious look.
    "I was just wondering what kind of animal you are," I say.
    "Why? Are you afraid I'm a rat?"
    "No, no. I'm with you and Marina on this. I think we appreciate whatever we get—once we get over the shock of it happening in