We ended up staying real late at Bolsa Chica beach. I met an Australian guy who argued with me over which sodas were better: He prefers Mountain Dew and told me so. I reached over and dug my hands in the ice chest and retrieved an ice-cold Pepsi and popped the can open in front of him. He grinned.
I know his name, I just choose not to say it. The older Cambodian ladies had been chatting about him all of yesterday morning. My mother thinks I'm in love. Talk to the hand, I told her. She refused, so I turned my elbow on her and said, Talk to the elbow then. Anyway, the Australian guy mentioned that he has lived in Cambodia since he was 17 years old. Great, we have something common: I've lived there before as a child.
- You did?
- Wow, he breathes.
- Wow, I breathe.
- Sorry? He laughs a bit, confused.
- Well, if you're amazed at me, then I guess I should be amazed at you too. You still live there, you know.
- But you were a kid.
- I'm still a kid.
He grinned again.
Three hours later he was enjoying a marshmallow fight with our friends. Through the melee, I was standing at the lip of the bonfire under the canon of marshamllows with some woman's husband. We were standing on one leg toasting our feet.
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