With a glare in our direction, the woman scoops him up and hurries off, whispering to him in a low, urgent tone. I glance over at Gregory with wide eyes, one hand over my mouth. He whips around to hide his face, but his shoulders are shaking and a loud cackle bursts out of him. I dissolve into giggles.
Once we’ve recovered, we plant ourselves in the middle of the blanket. Gregory sits with his legs bent, forearms propped on his knees. I pull out a wireless speaker and queue up a playlist on my phone, then lean back on my hands, tilting my face to the sun.
“So, what are we doing?” Gregory asks.
I keep my eyes closed. “This.”
“Just this? We’re not going to, like, fly a kite? Throw a football? Bury ourselves in the sand?”
“We’ll do all of it, don’t worry.” Except there’s no way he’s burying me in anything. I tried that when I was nine and had sand in various body crevices for days. “Today’s orientation, so we’re just going to observe. We’ll sit here for a while and listen to the sound of music mixed with the waves and watch the tide come in. And eat pecans, apparently. We can look out on the expanse of water and talk about how insignificant we are, or we can just be silent. We can get excited when we see a white cap, mistaking it for a dolphin. The disappointment will hit, but five minutes later we’ll do it all over again. If we get too hot, we’ll put our feet in the water or go get ice cream. Then we’ll walk a little, and see if we can find anything cool.”
“Like what?”
“Shells, sea glass. Shark teeth.” I glance over at him then, and he looks so delighted, I realize I need to set expectations. “Those are rare, though. I found one by chance when I was, like, six, and have never seen one since.”
“I don’t care. We’re not leaving until I have a shark tooth. My school does a time capsule for each class. Can you imagine what a hit I would be, throwing a real-life shark tooth into the mix next year? And not even one I bought at a gift shop!”
I push off my hands and lean forward, stretching to meet my toes. I can’t see his face anymore. “So, it’s decided, then? You’re going back to Arizona?”
“Yeah, right before school starts.” He pats my shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll write.” His eyes go wide. “We can be pen pals!”
“Or we can just text like normal people,” I say, not altogether sure whether he’s serious.
“No way. We’re gonna write actual letters. With a pen and some sort of fancy stationery. Put a stamp on it and drop it at the mailbox and everything.”
I consider teasing him more, but then I remember that I’m saving up all my hard-earned money to buy a relic from the letter-writing era myself. Maybe there’s something to the way people used to do things back then.
“Okay,” I agree. “We’ll write.”
I love the Fourth, and I spend it almost exactly like I did last year.
Except instead of Kat, Shelby’s by my side.
Pearl’s is closed for the holiday, so we’re free to do whatever we want. We sit on the curb downtown and watch the parade in the morning, grab fish tacos for lunch, and have been lying in the sun on a (very) crowded beach for the last hour. My hair is salty and wavy from when we waded into the water to cool off, and today I chose an emerald bikini that brings out the green in my eyes. I brought a book, like I always do, but I haven’t read a single page. It seems like my entire school is here, and people keep stopping to chat. Shelby has taken particular interest in a lifeguard working the stand today and is giving a running commentary of their inevitable love story. My phone chimes, and my belly flutters when I see it’s Myles.
Myles: what are you up to?
Me: At the beach with Shelby and the rest of Kingfisher High.
Me: Where have you been all day?
Myles: family always comes in for the 4th, but my cousin and I made a run for it
Myles: headed for the volleyball courts, can you come?
Me: We’re right next to them.
Myles: awesome
Myles: see you soon
I toss my phone onto my towel and tell Shelby, “Myles is coming.”
She gives a high-pitched “Ooooh” like we’re in fifth grade.
“Shut up,” I laugh.
“Just calling it like I see it. You’ve got it bad for that guy.”
