We settle into silence, both of us looking out at the ocean, cooling down from our game. I watch the waves and try to predict how big they’ll get and when they’ll crash. Above us, white seagulls fly in the air.
“Kennedy and I planned to see a movie tonight,” Curtis says. “She doesn’t want to go anymore. I think she’s still feeling tired and a bit grumpy.”
I click my tongue. “That sucks. You could always see it another time.”
He shrugs. “Maybe. I don’t think she was that interested in the movie, anyway. It’s called Lightbody’s Castle. I don’t know if you’ve seen the advertisements —”
“The thriller?” I ask, perking up. “That looks so good!”
“Right?” Curtis smiles before it fades away. “But thrillers aren’t Kennedy’s thing.”
“Kennedy doesn’t like that many movies,” I say. “She’s more of a TV show kind of gal.”
He blinks. “Oh. Well, since I’ve already bought the tickets for the cinema, and I can’t refund them, I was wondering if —”
“Sure, I’ll go with you,” I say.
“If you and Bonnie wanted them,” Curtis finishes at the same time. “What?”
“What?” I say. “Me and Bonnie?”
Curtis stares at me before looking at the sand, using a finger to draw a mindless line. “Yeah, I thought you guys could go together…”
“I could ask her. See if she’ll say yes.”
“She’ll say yes,” Curtis says.
I raise a brow.
He waves a hand. “Never mind. Anyway, enjoy the movie. It’ll be good. At least, that’s what I’ve heard.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to go?” I ask.
Curtis shrugs. “I could always watch it when I get back to Easton. Or go by myself.”
I roll my eyes. “Jesus, why are you being so self-sacrificing? They’re your tickets, so if you want to go, go.”
He shrugs again, and I make my decision.
“Alright, you’re going.”
That gets Curtis to look at me. “I am?”
“Yep.”
“What about the other ticket?” he asks.
I smile at him, and Curtis stares until it clicks. “You want to go together?”
“Thanks. I’d love to.”
Curtis and I return to the house half an hour later and rush straight to the kitchen, our throats parched. On the way back, I suggested buying a water bottle from a convenience store, but Curtis said they were overpriced and bad for the environment.
The girls, who are sitting around the kitchen table making wraps, greet us but are cut short as we sprint to the fridge.
“Thirsty,” I explain, opening the fridge and pulling out a jug of cold water.
“Right. How was the beach?” Erin asks.
