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The moment is gone, but we don’t break apart.

We stay like this, locked together, watching the well-earned comedy play out below.

3

Jason

You’ve caught me.

I’m an asshole. A Grade A bully. A jerk in sheep’s clothing.

Meanness is a pin stuck between my shoulder blades, and I can’t reach to get it out.

I swim until I can’t feel the pin anymore. Until I can’t feel anything but searing heat in my arms. Cramps in my legs. Lungs that feel like they’re going to burst.

Finally, I pull myself back onto shore. Salt and sand cling to me.

It’s a beautiful goddamn day on Hannsett Island. Like every summer day.

Bayside Beach is packed. Families under huge, multicolored umbrellas. People playing Frisbee. Volleyball. Seagulls fighting over french fries.

Amy lies sprawled across a beach towel, Cosmo magazine in her lap. She’s wearing a bikini that barely covers her and a hat so big, it’s essentially a second umbrella. When I step over her to grab a towel from the bag, she screams, “You’re dripping on me!”

“Bet that’s not the first time,” Nick snickers. Nick sits in the fold-out beach chair, a dollop of sunscreen smeared down his nose, and Amy throws her magazine at him.

I pop open the cooler, but there’s nothing but beers in here. “We have any water?”

Nick looks at Amy, who shrugs. I rummage around until I find a hard seltzer. Close enough. I chug that instead as I towel off water from the back of my neck.

“Hey,” Nick says, “tell King what you told me.”

Amy holds on to her hat and points across the beach. “That’s the girl.”

My eyes follow her finger. I recognize the girl in question immediately as the newbie from across the dock. She’s sitting with her mother and one of my dad’s friends—Terry. She’s wearing a red one-piece and has headphones on. Big sunglasses on. She’s sprawled across the towel, arm draped over her eyes. Blocking out the world.

The sight of her on full display like that—vulnerable, open—it does something to me. I feel my heartbeat pick up, only it’s got nothing to do with my swim.

“What about her?” I ask.

Amy looks up at me, lips curled, pleased with herself. “She’s the one I saw with Dick Boy. They’re like besties now or whatever. They took the ropes off your dad’s boat and pushed it away.”

So she’s the source of all my trouble. Anger is a heat, not an emotion. It burns and doesn’t let up. My pin digs a little deeper.

I clasp my hand over Nick’s shoulder to get his attention.

“Get everyone together,” I tell him. “Let’s do a bonfire tonight.”

“Hell yeah!”

“Hey.” Amy pops up, her body brushing mine. She has sand stuck all up the back of her arms, and she tickles the tips of her fingers over my bare abdomen. “Wanna come get some ice cream with me?”

The look in her eyes tells me ice cream isn’t the only thing she wants in her mouth.

But I’m wound too tight. Burning too hot.

“Later,” I tell her. “I’m going back in.”

I need to clear my head in a way that only salt water can cure. Extinguish this rage before it consumes me. I toss the beach towel back down and dive back into the water.

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