He nodded. “Sure, let’s do it.”
“Come on.” I gestured for him to follow me as I headed down to the water. It was so clear I could see the strands of seaweed drifting above the bed of sand and smooth colored stones at the bottom. Farther out in the water a seal popped his head above the surface and looked at us curiously. Waves lapped gently against the shoreline. I shrugged out of my jacket and sweatshirt, unlaced my tennis shoes, and peeled off my leggings; and stood shivering and covered in goose pimples in my one-piece bathing suit on the cold, wet sand. Rory did the same. He came to stand beside me and wrapped his arms around his bare chest. I carefully stuffed my hand in the baggie, and Rory helped me secure the rubber band around my wrist. Hopefully my bandage would stay dry inside the bag.
“Okay,” he said, seeming to brace himself. I’d never seen him shirtless before, and I could feel my cheeks warming at the sight of all that exposed freckly skin. My cheeks were the only part of me that was warm, however. My thighs felt frozen already. And once we jumped in, we’d have a long, cold, wet walk home. I hesitated. I could feel Rory beside me, looking at me. Trying to be brave, I dipped a toe in the water and gasped. It was so cold it physically hurt.
“Ready?” Rory reached out and took my uninjured hand. His palm was warm against mine. I nodded and took a deep breath. This was a terrible idea.
“One... two...” he counted slowly, his eyes on me. I could feel him tensed to spring forward into the water.
“Stop!” I shrieked at the last second. “It’s just too cold and I’m chicken.”
Rory let out a huge exhalation. “Me too,” he said, grinning wide. “I was kind of worried we’d get hypothermia before we made it home, but I didn’t want to back out. We can be chicken together.”
“Sounds perfect,” I said, grinning back at him. I clumsily worked myleggings and sweatshirt back on using my one good hand, laughing although my teeth were chattering. We dressed as fast as we could, a little giddy with relief.
“Want to hang out a little bit here or go straight home?” I asked, zipping myself into the warmth of my puffy coat. Pure bliss.
Rory looked around. “Let’s stay. If I go home, I have to help my dad take the Christmas lights down. This is way more fun.”
“Come on then,” I led the way to a huge bleached-white driftwood log that had been lying on the beach for as long as I could remember. In the lower part of the trunk, near the base of twisted, gnarled roots, was a sheltered spot in the sand, perfect for two people to sit in. I sank down in the sand, careful of my injured hand, and gestured for him to join me. He slid down next to me.
“Do you know where you are right now?” I asked him.
He gave me an amused look. “Is this a trick question, like for head injury victims? Date, time, current president?”
I laughed. “It’s not a trick question. This is my favorite spot in the world.”
He sobered and looked around him. “I can see why.”
It was breathtaking from this vantage point. Snowcapped mountains, the choppy gray glint of the water, the rocky beach empty of people. It was majestic and serene and a little wild. I loved it.
“Sometimes you can see baby seals resting on the shore over there.” I pointed. “And usually there’s no one on this part of the beach.”
Rory rested his forearms on his knees, leaning back against the trunk, looking relaxed and at peace. “This is so much better than spending the day taking down Christmas lights,” he said. “My dad always uses up all his swear words for the year in like an hour. Thanks for rescuing me.”
“You rescued me first,” I said lightly.
My parents had come home at one a.m. and found me on the couch,hand bandaged and elevated, and my head on Rory’s shoulder. Both of us were asleep, and the TV was still on. I think they felt guilty that I hadn’t been able to reach them and that Rory and I had been forced to handle my medical emergency by ourselves. My mom was so grateful to Rory for taking care of my injury that she talked Mrs.Shaw into letting Rory come with me for part of the day today. I’d convinced her to just drop us off and let us walk home. Now we had half the day to spend how we chose.
“I’ve never brought anyone here before,” I confessed.
Rory looked at me curiously. “Why me?”
I shrugged. “I wanted to share it with you.”
And that was the truth. I’d never even shared this place with Ashley. But looking at Rory next to me on the sand, I knew it was the right decision. He belonged here, sitting next to me.
I don’t know how long we stayed there that day. It must have been hours. At first we were silent, just enjoying the wild beauty. But then, gradually, we started talking, sharing back and forth. We talked about everything. Rory told me all about his dream of becoming a sports medicine doctor and working with a professional sports team. I told him about my dream of opening my own restaurant. When we got hungry, he pulled out a slightly smashed Snickers bar, and we shared it, keeping an eye out for harbor seals and watching the mammoth container ships steaming south toward the Port of Seattle.
Sitting there together, with our backs against the smooth driftwood log, alone with the water and sky and the cry of the gulls, it felt like we were the only people in the world. We chatted about music, AP English, Rory’s last soccer season. We discovered we both loved Keith Urban andTo Kill a Mockingbird. I told him that if I ever had a daughter I wanted to name her Scout after the protagonist. Rory did an impression of the nasally tone of our AP English teacher, Mrs.Keen, and I laughed so hard that I tipped over in the sand, which made him laughuntil he couldn’t breathe. Lying in the sand, ribs aching from laughing, I felt a bloom of happiness. I could be silly around him or serious. Either way, he looked at me like I was the most special person on Earth. Under the warmth of his gaze, I felt bright and funny and favored. When we finally rose to hike back up the trail and make the mile walk back home, I did so with a pang of regret.
“Hey, thanks for bringing me along today.” Rory shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket. He hesitated. “Can we come back again sometime?” His expression was hopeful and a little vulnerable.
“Sure.” I shivered and tried to wiggle the circulation back into my frozen toes. “This was fun.” That was an understatement. The afternoon had been one of the happiest I could remember. Not even Ashley and I had so much fun.
Rory held out his hand, little finger crooked. “Pinkie promise?” He said it in Mrs.Keen’s twang.
I grinned and hooked my pinkie with his, and we shook on it. “Promise,” I replied in my best impression of a robot voice.
