At work on Monday, no girl comes in to see him or hang around, pretending to look at clothes to get his attention. Jess doesn't come in to flirt, but during his break, Brandon heads out to the beach to join a few others. I mindlessly watch him from my post. He talks, laughs, lays in the sun, plays volleyball, walks ankle-deep into the ocean, wets his hair, shimmers in the sun, his hair golden and his skin golden too. He tugs off his shirt and lays on his back against the bare sand. I cross my arms and try to look away. He has a constellation of freckles on...