we frolicked about in our summer skin

[straightupbitch]

That Santana doesn't hate every little thing about the island comes as a surprise even to herself. This, of course, is not to say that she is at all content: Most things still annoy the crap out of her, but Tabula Rasa manages to make up for not being Lima by - Well, not being Lima. A consequence of hating most everyone and everything is that she

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[teenagerenegade]

"I'm pretty sure it's everybody's sun," says Charlie, shading his eyes as he looks down at her. He's sporting sunburn across his nose, something that he always manages to end up with around this time of year and it never stops amusing Edmund.

He does step to one side, though. He's pretty sure that he doesn't recognise her.

[straightupbitch]

Oh, joy. She loves it when they get cheeky. Call her spoiled, but Santana is used to the flocks of simpleminded teens that fill the halls at McKinley, kids who wouldn't recognize the use of sarcasm or a good joke if it beat them silly with a baseball bat. It's taken some getting used to, that the kids here aren't quite as dense, and she still isn't sure whether this development is a welcome one.

Allowing her eyes to flutter open, she squints up against the sunlight for a better look, confirming her suspicion that he who spoke is somewhere around her age. "Yeah, well, looks like I'm the only one using it wisely," she snaps, pointing at his nose.

[teenagerenegade]

Charlie gives a good-natured shrug. He grazes his fingers against the reddened skin of his nose. He gives her a grin.

"Happens every year," he says. "I've stopped giving a fuck. Makes life a lot easier."

[straightupbitch]

"You've been here for over a year?" She doesn't as so much as demand, a sense of urgency to her voice, and notable to the careful ear, some panic as well. She knows, of course, that there are those who have been stuck here for close to five years, but there's a difference between rumor and firsthand account. To date, Santana isn't sure she's met anyone who's met the full year mark.

[teenagerenegade]

"It's been..." He goes quiet for a moment while he figures it out. "Nearly two years. But it always did this at home too, you know?"

[straightupbitch]

Santana sits up only to bury her head in her hands, an action punctuated with a loud, frustrated grunt. "That is fan-fucking-tastic," she breathes. "You know, I don't even hate this place all that much, but there's only so long a girl can survive without AC and a texting plan."

[teenagerenegade]

And now Charlie feels guilty. He squats down in the sand, board shorts and a t-shirt that he's pretty sure is Edmund's, hair in sweaty curls across his forehead. He might never have lived anywhere but here.

"You get used to it, you know?" he says, gently. "I thought i was never going to get used to here, but I met Ed, I got a job...it's fine. It's more than fine."

[straightupbitch]

The problem with his happily ever after is that it sounds more like a nightmare to Santana. At seventeen, she isn't looking to settle down and live the dream of some soppy old retired couple. And even if she were into it, the ratio of gay men to lesbian women on this island is seriously askew. There are times when Santana is convinced she's the only one, and she's not even out.

"Like a job-job?" She wonders, furrowing her brow. "I thought this was, like, the land of everything's free."

[teenagerenegade]

"Oh, it totally is," says Charlie, smiling. "But, like, I wrote my thesis and studied my ass off so that I could work in the Psych office."

[straightupbitch]

Her head tilted to one side, Santana squints up at him and is discouraged to find that his expression is entirely serious. To her, it makes no sense whatsoever; it's not as if she doesn't plan to go to college, but that's in the real world, where it's actually necessary. Here, the most she might one day care to learn is how to surf. So, her question is a simple one: "Why?"

[teenagerenegade]

"Because just lying around all day smoking seemed kind of wasteful?" says Charlie, arching an eyebrow. "Back home, you know, I would have gone to college or whatever. This is the next best thing."

[straightupbitch]

"According to local lore, college will still be there went you're sent back wherever it is you came from," Santana points out. Granted, she's in no place to school a veteran islander on the law of the land, but it is what she's heard, and if there are differing opinions, she wants to know sooner rather than later.

[teenagerenegade]

"Yeah, but I was seventeen when I got here and I'm nineteen now.. Why should I spend years beating time?" he asks. He shrugs. "Maybe I'll get married, you know? I figure, you might as well live this life while you've got it, especially if you've got to go back."

[straightupbitch]

Santana's expression presents an equal balance of horrified and confused. "Does something happen between seventeen and nineteen that makes you wanna settle down with your soulmate, or whatever you wanna call it, and pop out a few hideous kids with scrunched up faces and double the daddy issues? That's your future scenario, not mine, any kids blessed with my DNA would be hailed as gods among mere mortals. But still, married at nineteen? There's only one possible ending to that tale and as far as I've seen, this island doesn't have a trailer park or and MTV reality show."