Page 15 of Inseverable (Carolina Beach)

He does a double-take. “What?”

“Are you a virgin?” I repeat.

“Why the hell would you ask me that?”

I try to keep my expression quizzical instead of full out laughing at my own ridiculousness. “I’m not trying to judge you—really I’m not. I’m just trying to figure you out. Now, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. But if you were it would explain your shyness.”

“You think I’m shy?” he asks in that slow way he does when he can’t believe the things shooting out of my mouth.

“Among other things.” The ocean breeze picks up, and the waves crash, forcing me to speak up to be sure he can hear me. “You can tell me if you are. I promise not to tell anyone, cross my heart.”

It’s not that I believe there’s a snowball’s chance in Hades that this boy hasn’t single-handedly popped enough cherries to make a pie, it’s more like I want him to keep talking. No, Ineedto keep him talking. Me and Callahan . . . I don’t know. I think we’re actually getting to know each other. And I really like who I’m getting to know.

“No. I’m not a virgin,” he admits, something that may or not be a smile lifting the corners of his mouth. “What about you?”

I almost can’t believe he went there, mostly because I can’t believe he’s speaking all on his own. I smile to myself thinking I should’ve checked on his hound status long before this.

Instead of answering, yes or no, I say, “If I tell you I am, would you believe me?”

“No.”

“No? You callin’ me a slut?” I ask in my thickest southern accent.

And good day in the morning, that’s when I see it, his very first grin?even though he’s fighting with all that he has to beat it down.

“Maybe,” he finally manages.

“Maybeyou’re calling me a slut?”

That smile he’s trying to destroy turns into a laugh?we’re talking full-out guffaw. And right then and there I can’t tell who’s more stunned, me or him.

His expression darkens, as if embarrassed or angry he allowed that long-denied laugh to release. So instead of pushing him too far I give him space. A lot of it. Maybe too much.

I spot my lifeguard stand just ahead, saddened that our very first and real conversation is quickly coming to an end.

“I meant you could be a virgin, but I doubt it.”

His words are so low they barely register over the sound of waves splashing along the shore. But I hear them well enough.

“Why?” I ask.

I slow to a stop just in front of my designated perch. Already the first of the beach goers are pulling into the lot. In the distance, a man grunts and curses, likely trying to lift something heavier than sin followed by the delighted squeals of a few children, and their momma’s urgent voice telling them not to run.

Callahan stops a few feet away from me, and although he knows I’m still behind him, he keeps his back to me. I kick the sand at my feet, but my attention remains on him, waiting for him to tell me more before this moment between us is gone for good.

Right about where I’m standing has become our unofficial drop off / pick-up point. It’s where I say hello, and usually wave goodbye?followed by an inappropriate comment on my part of course.

As I continue to watch him, I decide he probably intended to make a quick escape. He easily could have, knowing my duties would keep me from chasing after him. Instead he waits with his hands on those baby-makin’ hips of his as if wrestling with what to say.

This time I don’t move. I’m not playing games, not really. I’m mostly just being my goofy self. But if we’re going to be friends, real ones I mean, I can’t always be the one running after him. So I wait, certain he won’t walk back to me.

But then he does.

His steps are slow and purposeful, halting about an arm’s length in front of me. When he says nothing, and I know our time is quickly running out, I decide that maybe I’m the one who needs to speak.

“What did you mean by what you said?” I ask him.

He works his jaw, appearing just a little shy as those baby blues fix on my face. “I just figured at least a few guys have tried to get with you.”

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