Page 100 of Summer, in Between
‘Hey!’I say against his lips, but I take my time in moving back from his kiss.‘Can’t you see I’m working?’
‘Well, something’s working.’He sits up.‘But you’re right, stop kissing me.You’re very distracting.Go back to your book.’
‘You started it, but what were you going to say?What have you been thinking?’
‘I was thinking it’s time we go out properly, you know, have a proper date.Dinner in town.Movies.What do you think?’
‘I’d love that.When?’
‘Tonight?’
‘Sounds good.I’ll get Mum or Dad to drop me off at your house?’
‘Oh hell, no,’ he laughs.‘It’s a date; I’ll pick you up.Around seven?Give you a chance to get some work done.I don’t want to get yelled at again for taking you away from the most important year of your life.’
‘Point taken.Off you go.Go play with your friends.’
‘Yeah, yeah, I’m going,’ he says.‘See you out in the water?’
‘Yeah, maybe.’
I watch him lope up the beach, his shoulders impossibly wide, the muscles in his back tapering down.A dog trots towards him, its owners lagging, and Paul crouches down to pet it.Ugh.Could he be any more perfect?I return to my textbook and try to convince myself that the amoebic structure is infinitely more interesting and appealing than my boyfriend.Sweat trickles down my spine, and my brain is starting to feel foggy.I read the same paragraph three times.I take a slug of water and it’s warm.There’s shouting coming from the dune; the Neanderthals run down, boards under their arms.Paul waves, I close my book and rise.
‘You all done?’His arm comes around me when I reach him.‘That was quick.’
‘Nope.I’ve had enough for now.’I wrap my arms around his waist.‘I can’t seem to concentrate; I keep thinking about that massage I owe you.You know, the one with my lips?’
‘I know the one,’ he says, ‘and now I can’t concentrate.’
‘Hey, Paulie,’ Tom yells.‘That a gun in your wetsuit, or are you just happy to see Cat?’The Neanderthals laugh and Paul blushes and shifts his surfboard.
‘Can still see it, mate,’ Tom says.
‘They can see that one from space,’ Cavey says.
‘The Great Wall of Batter’s Cove,’ Tom hoots.
‘Yeah, yeah.’Paul turns his back on them.‘Okay, that’s embarrassing.See what you do to me?’
‘Apparently the International Space Station can see what I do to you,’ I say.‘I don’t know if I’m flattered or just mortified.’
‘I’m mortified,’ he says.‘Come on, let’s get in the water.That cures everything.’
‘I didn’t realise you needed a cure for me, but whatever,’ I say.‘I’m not going past the shallows, though.’
‘Yes, you are,’ he says.‘It’s safer out the back and you’ll be with me.’
‘You sure?’
‘Positive.Let’s go.’
We move through the swell, Paul duck diving under the waves on his board, resurfacing each time to find me beside him.‘Do you want to hold on to my leg rope?You okay, babe?’
‘I’m all good.’And I am.It’s the furthest I’ve been out all summer.I dive through the waves, the sun pulsing through the green, the whitewash luminescent.I swim out the back, Paul paddling beside me, far beyond the Neanderthals at the line up.Paul straddles his board.
‘Take a seat.’He slaps the deck.
‘Is there room?’
