His fingers brush over the bracelet on my wrist. “Did you make this?”
I nod. “It’s not great, but it was the first bracelet where I handmade every clay bead, so I’m attached to it.”
“It’s the same colors Mase said to buy for your room.”
“Blurple.”
He pauses. “Pardon?”
I giggle at his confused face and shrug. “Blurple. It’s the word I made up when I was little. The perfect mix of blue and purple.”
He throws his head back, letting out a deep, throaty laugh. “Blurple,” he repeats, still chuckling.
The breeze picks up, sending that stubborn strand of hair back in front of my eyes, and Nate is quick to tuck it away again. Our eyes lock, and he smiles softly.
“I’m sorry if I’m being too forward. But I need to tell you that you’re really beautiful, Maddie.”
I bite my lip, trying to contain the excited way my heart soars. “Thank you.”
“So, USC?”
I perk up at the mention of it. “I can’t believe you’re going there. I’m trying not to get my hopes up. But I really hope I get in.”
“I bet you will. I have a good feeling about it, and if you do, we’d be together in California.”
California.
I love the sound of that. But not as much as I love the idea of both of us there at the same time.
“We would. But you’ll probably forget me by then. I’m a whole year below you.”
He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Not likely. You’re pretty unforgettable.” He turns us and brazenly drapes an arm around my shoulders. “Let’s watch the sunset, Mads.”
Mads.
My insides twist in excitement, giddy over the nickname.
After a moment, he squeezes my shoulder and whispers, “This okay?”
“Yeah, Nate,” I mutter back. “It’s okay.”
More than okay.
Every sensation I’m feeling today is new to me. Nate elicits responses I never knew existed, like the unfamiliar heat spreading to my toes and the quick flutters of my heart.
And what I’m realizing is that it’s a feeling I never want to go away.
“I’m glad you came to camp this summer,” Nate murmurs, so soft I almost miss it.
Afraid my voice might crack, I stay quiet and shift closer to him, letting my body speak for me.
We sit here, side by side, wrapped in a quiet embrace, watching the most breathtaking sunset I’ve ever seen until the very last light.
Now I understand why it’s called LakeHorizon.
A camera could never capture the way the last golden hues vanish behind that endless line in the distance.
“Today was nice. But you may not see me for the rest of the summer.” Nate blows out a deep breath.
