daisy .ᐟ

August 5th

Summer is always too long. The first day feels infinite, but by the last I always need change. The Massachusetts coast looks the same as it has for weeks. The air is as salty as it was in June. James plays the same three songs over and over as we sit in the same sand we boded all summer.

“Don’t you ever miss school? Just like-to have something to do?” I ask. James has been staring at the ocean for the last twenty minutes. I know that if I reached out and touched his face, it be warm and coarse from the ocean wind thats cutting through us. I don’t know if he wants me to touch him. He doesn’t hear my question.

He lets out a soft sigh, leaning back on his forearms and letting his head fall back. His hair falls across his face as anther wave crashes on the rocks. His eyes are closed, I know he’s thinking about something other than this little beach he’s been driving us to all summer. I close my eyes and convince myself he’s thinking about me, about us. Does he even think about that stuff? I don’t know.

But the waves crash like they always do, and Paul McCartney comes from James’s phone, and when I close my eyes it’s all okay. I hate being still, but I like sitting here with him.

Summer is always too long. The first day feels infinite, but by the last I always need change. The Massachusetts coast looks the same as it has for weeks. The air is as salty as it was in June. James plays the same three songs over and over as we sit in the same sand we boded all summer.

“Don’t you ever miss school? Just like-to have something to do?” I ask. James has been staring at the ocean for the last twenty minutes. I know that if I reached out and touched his face, it be warm and coarse from the ocean wind thats cutting through us. I don’t know if he wants me to touch him. He doesn’t hear my question.

He lets out a soft sigh, leaning back on his forearms and letting his head fall back. His hair falls across his face as anther wave crashes on the rocks. His eyes are closed, I know he’s thinking about something other than this little beach he’s been driving us to all summer. I close my eyes and convince myself he’s thinking about me, about us. Does he even think about that stuff? I don’t know.

But the waves crash like they always do, and Paul McCartney comes from James’s phone, and when I close my eyes it’s all okay. I hate being still, but I like sitting here with him.

•

May 16th

The car door shuts behind him as he sits down. His tie is loosened and his hair looks worn out from hours of his hands running through it.

“Tired?” I ask, putting the car into drive. He lets out a small laugh, looking down at his hands before over at me.

“Is it that obvious?” He says. I shrug, glancing over at him.

“It’s okay, me too.” I say, following the street lamps as I turn down his block.

“Wait-“ He says, “Can we just-I don’t want to go home.”

I look over at him. I’ve known James for years, everyone in this town knows each other. Everyone knows James. I’ve never really thought of him individually. He’s just another New England, Harvard-bound boy. He lives next door to Betty, I think. He won our 5th grade talent show for playing “Here Comes The Sun” on guitar. I’ve always thought he was funny. But he looks different right now, softer, like he wants someone to see him. He looks real.

“I know a place,” He says. He looks at me, and I know that for some reason he needs this. So I nod, stopping the care. I watch a soft smile spread through his face,“Can I drive?” He asks.

•

“How have I never been here before?” I ask as I step out of my car. The wind is soft and salty as it stretches from the ocean to the ledge James parked my car far to close to.

“Because I’m magic,” He says, pocketing my keys and walking over to me. “This place only appears when I want it to.”

I smile, looking up at him. “Are you going to murder me, James?”

His face breaks into laugh. “What?” He says. I walk closer to the edge, watching the water slide over the rocks encircling the beach below us.

“I mean, you take my keys and bring me to a place that ‘only appears when you want it to’.” I say, turning around to look at him again. My lips quirk when I see the grin on his face. “It’s kind of creepy.”

He lets out a small, breathless laugh. I can see the tension releasing from his body as we talk. It washes away as walks towards me

“No.” He says. “I wouldn’t hold up in jail.” He looks down at me with a lopsided smile.

It’s my turn to laugh, “That’s the only reason you’re not planning on murdering me?” I ask, looking up at him.

He looks at me for a moment. The ocean crashing behind us quiets. I don’t know why, but I don’t want to look away.

“I want to talk to you.” He says, his voice dropping. His eyes stay on mine. “Do you want to talk to me, Augustine?”

I nod. He smiles.

He steps back just an inch. I breathe in the coastal air and follow as he starts walking. He goes down a steep down a path I hadn’t noticed, leading down to the sand. He sits down and stretches out. I watch for a moment before I join him.

I lay back, listening to the waves crash in front of us. His eyes are closed when I look over at him. The sun has long since been past the horizon, but I can see him clearly, like he’s glowing. There will come to be a lot of things about James that I notice this summer, but can’t explain. But I know that I’m here, and he’s real and that’s all I need. So I close my eyes listen to the same three songs, the same ocean, the same pattern of James’s breathing.

°‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡

AUGUST *:･ﾟ✧*

I lay back, listening to the waves crash in front of us. His eyes are closed when I look over at him. The sun has long since been past the horizon, but I can see him clearly, like he’s glowing. There will come to be a lot of things about James that I notice this summer, but can’t explain. But I know that I’m here, and he’s real and that’s all I need. So I close my eyes listen to the same three songs, the same ocean, the same pattern of James’s breathing.

BETTY ೃ⁀➷

“James, get in. Let’s drive.”

I looked back at the school, but by this point the lights looked too loud to be real. I told myself it was just a ride home. That’s what it was, just a ride.

CARDIGAN ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

James isn’t a saint. No matter what my mom, or anyone in this town says. That’s why I love him. That’s why I loved him. He’s the breath before a laugh, the week before the leaves fall off the trees, the feeling after finishing a perfect book. He’s just James, my James. Or, he was.

°‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡