Page 90 of Summer, in Between
The fire snaps and crackles, its smoke twisting to meet the sea mist.I lean back against his chest and stare into the fire.He takes a strand of my hair, wrapping the curl around his finger.
‘I swear I’m a closet pyromaniac,’ I say.‘I love fire.When we were little, Mum would rug us up, pack a basket of potatoes wrapped in foil and meet Dad on the back beach where he’d have been fishing for the last few hours.The boys and I would trudge up and down the dunes, dragging driftwood for a fire, Mum commandeering the pieces she liked the shape of to take home, before stacking the timber into a teepee and lighting the bottom pieces.Matty and Tommy, always helpful, would move around the tiny flames, panting and puffing enthusiastically to help them along, blowing them out in their excitement.’I laugh at the memory.
‘Not you?’asks Paul.
‘I had braces for years.Half of what I’d have blown would have been saliva.’
‘Sexy.’
‘I know, right?’
‘You have no idea.’His breath warms my neck.
‘Weird.’I say.‘We haven’t had one yet.’
‘One what?’
‘A fire.’
‘This isn’t a fire?’
‘No, I mean my family.Although I’m not complaining.They almost always end in a fight or a vomit.Sometimes both.’
‘What?’
‘Mum would remember to wrap potatoes in foil, get butter, even salt and freakin’ pepper, but she’d always forget a knife, so Dad’d have to use his manky old fishing knife.’
‘Fish guts and baked potato.Nice.’
The ocean continues its endless thump against the shore, the wood shifts and protests in vivid sparks, my vision dotted, Paul’s breathing soft.He runs his fingers up and down my arms.
‘Look up, Cat.’The sea mist has moved behind us into shore and the stars look so close I could touch them.They’re almost unrealistic, like they’re painted on, obscene in their multitude.
‘Perfection,’ I say.
‘Again, you have no idea.’
Later, we kick sand over the fire, extinguishing every hint of it.
‘You’re okay with the dark?’Paul’s arm is around my shoulder, pulling me into his warmth.
‘Aren’t you here to protect me from any scary boogiemen on the beach?’
‘Why, yes, I am.’
‘Anyway, this is my secret superpower, so it’s more like I’ll protect you.You know how I said Mum always forgets to bring a knife?She also forgets a torch.I have the best night vision, so it’s always my job to lead the way through the dunes.Still, I love it so much.I know it’s silly.’
‘Why silly?’
‘Well, by rights, at my age I should resent spending time with my family.’
‘Your family is pretty cool.’
‘Yeah, they are, really.We’ll have to do it again this summer, just one last time.’
‘Why one last time?’
‘This time next year, I’ll be in the city, starting uni, and all that.’
