august

Sometimes I forget the air at the beach stays salty even when the sun goes down. Even in the dark, I feel like getting sand stuck between my toes.

It’s pitch black crossing the highway. No headlights or passing cars. No one felt like driving up the coast tonight, I guess. I can hear the crash of the waves from here, calling my name. They’ve missed me after a long time away, after jumping city lines for years trying to run far enough away from the memory of this place. The lights at the club blaze in the distance, but I can’t go there yet.

I kick my shoes off and stand at the edge of the sand. It’s going to be cold under my feet, but in my head I picture it like a warm beach day. As if the grains would burn the bottoms of my feet if they weren’t so calloused from a summer of running barefoot.

I stop next to the lifeguard tower, where I first met him, all freckles and too-cool-for-school attitude.

“I like your hat,” he said.

It was just a plain, denim baseball cap, but there was an acorn embroidered on it. He must’ve known that it was merch from my favorite band or else he wouldn’t have said something. Stupidly, I replied, “Thanks, it’s merch from my favorite band.”

He laughed. “I know, they’re mine too. Can I sit?”

And he did. I closed the book I was reading, baffled that a boy as beautiful as him would ever look at me. I was too shy for anyone to notice, but he saw me.

“Have you ever seen them live?” he asked.

“No, they don’t really play around here. I’d have to drive to the city.” Which was hours away. I didn’t mention that my reserved parents didn’t like them or the city.

“Oh, you gotta. They’re awesome. The next tour, we should go together.”

We should go together. I remember it so clearly. Making plans like we’d always known each other. Like we always would know each other.

Now, I squint in the darkness at the wooden supports holding up the tower. There are my initials, scratched in right next to his, after all this time. I take out my keys to carve over them, to erase what never really was, but I can’t. It was real to me.

Further down the beach is the dune where we had our first kiss. I snuck out, a first for me, and met him in the moonlight. He took me for a drive in his dad’s convertible, and we went for late night ice cream and made teenager trouble in the aisles of the twenty-four hour minimart. We blasted music out of the open top of the car and drove up and down PCH. I held my hands in the air, letting the wind rush past them so fast they went numb. And then we sat on the beach with our slurpees and snacks watching for shooting stars.

When he leaned in, I was so scared. I’d never kissed anyone before. He tasted like cherry slushie and salty potato chips, and it was perfect. I wanted a million more just like that.

“You’re special to me,” he said.

I believed him. Under the stars with him looking at me like that, I would’ve done anything he asked if it meant he’d always save that smile for me.

Next to him, I became a new person. We snuck into unrented houses and drank booze we stole from our parents, we made out in public so much that it annoyed the beachgoers, and I started dressing in clothes I knew he would like me in. Things that would make him think about me or want to touch me. I was like a puppy, craving his attention, and I would’ve done anything to keep it.

In July, my parents decided I was being reckless. Instead of letting me mind my business and read on the beach like every other summer, they made me start going to the club with them. I volunteered at the local hospital and animal shelter. I did beach clean ups. But he would show up every time to sneak snacks and slushies to me. He’d flash his lopsided grin and promise to pick me up when my hours were finished, and he’d always be there, passenger door open to take me away.

We made time in small moments. He’d leave notes in my windowsill. Meet me behind Joe’s Market. Early mornings on the foggy beach. An address for another unrented property we could loiter at. His friends became my friends, and we pretended like nothing could change.

How was I supposed to know that he was just biding his time until he could go back to her in September?

While August burned, his smile never faltered, but something changed. I ignored the signs, since I’d always known he’d have to go back to his “real” life. But did that make our summer any less real than the coming autumn? What about seeing our favorite band in the city?

These are the promises I held onto every night after saying goodbye to him.

The day he left the beach, I rode my bike all the way to his house. The hatch to their minivan was propped open, and his dad was packing suitcases like a game of Tetris. He waved me into the house.

I could walk the entire inside with my eyes shut, twelve steps in, turn right into the hallway, and seven steps to his bedroom door. It was closed, so I lifted my hand to knock, but I could hear his voice on the other side, like he was on the phone.

“Of course, I can see you tonight. I really missed you, too…Yes, I want to hear all about Thailand! I won’t even zone out, I promise.”

I promise.

“I know, I know.” His voice sobered. “I was stupid before, but I’ve grown up a lot. I’m ready to be serious with you. What we have is special.”

What we have is special.

Tears pricked my eyes, and I opened the door without knocking. But I couldn’t say anything. I couldn’t even breathe.

When he saw me, he dropped his phone. “H-hi.”

I could hear her voice on the receiver. “Hello? Hellooo? Gosh the service there must be worse than Bangkok.”

He picked it up, but she already disconnected. He looked at me with such softness in his eyes I almost believed him. “It’s not…”

But it was. It was like that the whole time. And I didn’t want to hear him make excuses for it.

I ran back out the way I came, tears blurring my vision, got on my bike, and pedaled home as fast as my shaking legs could take me. I slammed my doors and pressed my face into my pillow to muffle my sobs.

It was like the whole world had cracked open and swallowed me. My skin burned with humiliation and stomach acid squeezed my insides. I wondered how I could’ve been so stupid. To have wasted so much time falling in love with someone who was too good to be true. I was back to having nothing. His friends would probably never speak to me now that I was back to being the loner. I’d return to my quiet and unfulfilling life, but this time I’d know what more felt like. I’d know exactly what I was missing. All at once, I had become a shell of the person summer had made of me.

I didn’t know heartbreak could feel like that.

My feet have now carried me to the club, though I’m just far enough in the shadows that I can still get away unscathed.

I know she’ll be inside, accepting condolences. Will she know when she sees me that he spent that pivotal summer in my arms instead of hers? That his sweet nothings were for me? Will she know he was capable of hurting someone that much?

There she is, through the window, next to a blown up headshot of him. Older than in my memories but still him. She looks up, as if she can feel me looking at her, but I’m still shrouded in darkness. Before I can think about it, I turn back toward the pitch black ocean and walk toward it instead.

I don’t need to meet her, nor do I need to be surrounded by people who loved him just because I was once one of them. I see flashes of those months, the ones that changed everything about me. Some say time heals all wounds. Others say saltwater. Neither is fast-acting, I’ve learned, but I can wait. One day, I might look back fondly on those days, but tonight I can still be angry. Disappointed. And that’s my business.

I hold my sandals tightly in my hands as I dip my toes closer to the edge of the icy water. Little by little until my feet are covered by it. It swirls around my ankles, pulling the sand out from under my feet so I sink slowly with every wave that goes out, slipping away like that summer.