Devin dug his feet deeper in the sand. It felt good to finally be clean, but the new clothes chafed his skin and his pride. He glanced over to Caitlyn apparently oblivious to anything outside of her viewfinder. He owed her so much. Tomorrow, he would get that job with Ferguson’s landscaping and for once he would keep his bloody mouth shut. This time he would make it work. He owed her at least that much. He fingered the bandage near his forehead.

“Someday, I want to try that.” Caitlyn lowered her camera and examined the images of the kite-surfer.  “Look.” She turned the camera’s LCD screen towards Devin. The picture captured the movement of the athlete against the vibrant sunset. “I swear, when he did that flip, it must have been like kissing the sky."

“Like flying.” 

“You’ve done it?” Caitlyn shifted to face him. “You’ve done that?” Her face glowed with excitement. She grasped his hands. "Tell me about it." 

Devin shrugged. “Once or twice.” God, why can’t I learn to think before I talk? “It was at camp.” He loved that camp. He loved kite-surfing. Despite the purpose of the camp, or maybe because of it, he felt at home there until his father dragged him back.

“Oh, tell me all about it. Is it incredible? Can you teach me?” Caitlyn leaned in, the tips of her blonde hair grazing his knee. “Oh, but wasn’t it expensive? How did . . .”

As her voice faltered Devin knew what she was thinking. How could he afford it? Shame burned his ears, and fueled his bruised pride. “What?” He pulled his hands away. “You think I had no life. No life before – You know, I wasn’t always homeless.” He pushed himself up and towered over her. He hated the look in her eyes. Why are you doing this? Stop it. You drive anything good from your life.  He knew he had to calm down, but his words defied him. “Does that surprise you?”

“Devin, I – ”

“Does it insult your altruistic spirit? Is a man down on his luck not as important as one who has lived his entire life in the gutter?” Oh shit, shut up, you idiot. “Well?”

Caitlyn shoved her feet into her sandals. “I don’t need this.”  She zipped her camera into its case and shoved it in her tote. “I don’t deserve this.”  Grabbing her keys, she flung her tote over her shoulder. “Not from you. Not from anyone.” She wiped a tear from her eye. 

“Caitlyn, I – ” Reason replaced rage, but Devin knew it was too late.  He wanted to stop her, but he knew he blew it.

“Go to hell, Devin. I hope you have a good life.”