Page 29 of The Last Special Thing

They reached the edge separating the sidewalk from the sand. She wondered what love meant to him. An unreasonable love sounded dreamy.

He knelt to take off his shoes as she kicked off her wedges and hooked her finger between the straps.

“Have you ever been in love?” she asked.

He chuckled, still taking off his shoes. “I mean, you’re my first girlfriend, so no.”

She pushed her feet into the chill of the sand, enjoying the tingle as the sand engulfed her toes.

“I’m your girlfriend?” She tilted her head.

He stood up. “Aren’t you?” His eyes searched hers.

“You never asked me.”

A seagull circled overhead, and salty waves crashed behind them as she waited for his response.

“You’re my girlfriend.” He leaned down and sealed the label with a kiss.

“Not a question, but I’ll take it,” she teased, pulling back.

There was a lightness in the air as they crossed the sand together, officially a couple.

“Let’s race,” Art said, then charged toward the water.

“Not fair!” Amelia called after him, breaking into a sprint.

He made it to the water first, and she chalked it up to his gazelle legs. At the edge of the sand and sea, he kicked water onto her bare legs, leaving a trail of goosebumps.

She narrowed her eyes at him as she burst into the shallow water and sprayed him back. He hopped to the side, out of her reach. Tilting her head up, she laughed. Amelia had spent her whole life in a nice, neat package–UCLA-bound, perfect girlfriend, exemplary daughter in Pilates class. With Art, there was an unharnessed burst of freedom.

“Didn’t expect you to be a water girl.” His eyes washed over her. She reached up to smooth the frizz in her hair. He put his hand gently around her wrist and brought her hand down. He let go.

“You look good the way you are.” His comment was light, but it felt heavy in her chest.

“Let’s explore,” he said, walking along the receding tide.

Amelia could spend her whole summer here with Art and be happy. In fact, that is what she intended to do.

They walked and laughed, soaking up every minute until the red-orange sun started to set.

“Should we turn around?” Amelia asked.

“Sure.” Art grabbed Amelia’s hand and twirled her in the afterglow of the sunset.

They made their way horizontally away from the tides, back toward the apartment. The stretch of beach had emptied, and stars blinked in the sky one by one. Art stopped walking when they reached the bottom of the dunes.

“What if we sat here for a bit?”

“I can’t think of anything better.”

Art shrugged off his faded black zip-up jacket and set it on the sand for her. She plopped down on top of it, then smoothed out the lumps underneath.

Her carefully seated position lasted briefly. Art lowered down, placing each knee on either side of her waist. His mouth covered hers, stealing her breath. He took his time kissing her, pulling back intermittently to take her in. He rolled his thumb over her cheek.

“You’re the most beautiful girlfriend a guy could have.”

She had never felt more desired. As he continued to push his mouth and body against her, she reclined back on her forearms. He balanced on the sand with one hand as the other moved slowly up her blouse.