“That was?—”
Something lands on my head.
Something with claws.
“What the—” I jerk backward, arms flailing, as a seagull—Sigmund, probably, that judgmental bird—digs his talons into my scalp and shrieks directly into my ear.
Jessica screams. Then laughs. Then screams again.
“Hold still!” she yells, which is absolutely unhelpful advice when a bird is trying to nest in your hair.
“Get it off!”
“I’m trying! He’s—stop moving!”
Sigmund flaps his wings, slapping me in the face with feathers. I stumble backward off the log, landing hard in the sand, which at least dislodges the demonic creature from my head. He hops away, looking deeply offended, and shrieks at me accusingly.
“Did that bird just—did he—” I’m sputtering, brushing sand and feathers out of my hair.
Jessica is doubled over laughing, tears streaming down her face. “Your face?—”
“I was having a moment!”
“You were being attacked!”
“By aseagull!”
“Ajealousseagull! He’s been watching us this whole time!”
Sigmund shrieks again, and then—because my humiliation clearly wasn’t complete—a golden blur comes barreling across the beach at approximately ninety miles per hour.
Scout.
Jack’s dog has spotted the seagull and decided that this is his moment. He launches himself toward Sigmund with the dedication of a guided missile.
Sigmund takes off, and Scout follows. They tear across the beach in a chaos of barking and shrieking, sand flying everywhere.
“Scout!Scout!” Jack’s voice carries from up the beach. “Get back here, you goofball!”
I’m still on the ground, Jessica is still laughing, and now Jack is jogging toward us, looking deeply confused.
“Morning!” Jack calls, slightly out of breath. “Sorry about the—Scout, no! Leave the bird alone—sorry, he saw a seagull and just—wait.” He stops, taking in the scene.
Me covered in sand and feathers, Jessica crying with laughter, the sunrise blazing behind us like a movie backdrop. “Did I interrupt something?”
“No,” I say quickly.
“Yes,” Jessica says at the same time.
Jack’s eyebrows climb toward his hairline. Scout, having lost the seagull to the sky, comes bounding back and shoves his wet nose directly into my face.
“Hi, Scout,” I say flatly. “Thank you for this.”
Scout licks my entire face in response.
“He likes you,” Jack offers. “Consider it a compliment.”
“I’ll consider it a reason to shower.”
