#lisvn

She’s not wrong - she has told me that many times before. I’m still keeping my Polaroids. I see her grin become a frown as she looks at her camera screen. She mouths the word “fuck” and I tap her shoulder.

    “What’s that about digital being superior again?” Even in the darkness her eyes can be piercing. She stands up, a little taller than usual, and walks back to the logs we left our stuff by. The rolled cuffs of her jeans flirt with the sand with every step.

    “Photoshoot’s over.”

    She packs up her camera and lens carefully into her case. I shut my camera and find a spot big enough to fit it in my bag. Victoria starts walking, case in hand, to her car parked nearby.

    “Now it’s time for our date, right?” Her hand is on the handle of the trunk.

    “Like I said, the photoshoot is over,” she says as she pops the trunk. A loud sigh escapes her and her weight shifts to one leg. “Really, Max?”

    “Hey, what’s a visit to the beach without a guitar?” I briefly catch her eyes as they roll, and she exchanges her case for a blanket. We make our way back to the logs, this time with my guitar and the big blanket. There’s a fire pit in front of the logs, and the sun is officially gone from the sky. If this fire doesn’t get lit this “photoshoot and maybe hangout” is gonna end pretty soon.

    “Hey Victoria, can I use your lighter?” She fishes around the pockets of her hoodie and removes a slender metallic rectangle, nothing like the plastic throwaways I’ve seen Chloe with before. It comes to life after a few flicks. “I still can’t believe you’re wearing a hoodie and jeans.”

    “Okay, first of all,”, she says, “these jeans cost about as much as your laptop.” I blow on the glowing kindling. “And second,” she continues, “I’m eighteen, Max. I know what jeans are.” The flames take hold and I join Victoria on the log, where she’s draped the blanket. Victoria always looks like she’s giving 110%, so I guess it’s just weird to picture her in anything less. Her hoodie is way nicer than mine, though.

“Well I think they look good on you.” Her face flushes, which has been happening more and more since we won the contest a few weeks ago. Her “Thanks” is soft, and she shifts in her seat. The gap between us shrinks a little, but there's still a few inches left.

I pull my guitar onto my lap and tune it a little. Her eyes are fixed on my fingers as they twist the pegs. The first few strums are just exploratory. When it sounds right I start strumming a simple tune. Victoria is still quiet, but she’s focused on the fire now. I really hope she’s enjoying this.

My cheeks are warm, but I don't know if it's just because of the fire or some other reason....

After strumming an aimless tune, my hands are ready to play something a little more. It fills the air around us, like playing an impromptu concert for the grass and waves. They wave along back and forth in the breeze. I almost don’t notice the sound right next to me.

“Victoria…” The guitar cuts out. “... were you just singing?” She’s back to blushing now, but the fire looks cool in comparison to her cheeks.

“I don’t… Max, you didn't hear anything.” Bullshit. The firelight touches the side of her head now. Silence again. I can't stand to see her like this.

My shoulder meets hers gently. “Let’s try it again from the top this time.” I start strumming the opening chords again, a silent invitation to her. How long will it take her to accept it? Has it been a few minutes already, or only a few seconds? 

No more waiting. My fingers shift to the next chord, and the song begins. Clearing my throat, I prepare to—and there she is. Her eyes are on my feet, but her voice is there. It’s a sweet sound, something that up until the week of the photo contest would have been a juxtaposition. But there really is a sweet side to Victoria. A soft side. A weak side, she would say.

Before I can really enjoy her voice, it quivers and she stops. The grass and the waves are bowing, and I can feel myself involuntarily shiver. How did the fire get so low? I toss some more kindling in and wait for it to grow again. Ah, there’s the warmth… on my side?

The fire is reflected in the corner of her dark grey eyes. Her lips are parted and sometimes I think I can see the puffs of air escaping them. Oh–oh my god. The fire burns, the blanket wraps both of us, and yet I’m frozen. How much time is passing? Has it been a few seconds like this or a few minutes or —  I seriously wish I could slow down time right now… moments like this never last long enough.

Now her shoulder nudges mine. I look back into her eyes, and she nods her head gently in the direction of the guitar. “I’m guessing that means one more time?” I say.

“Just play the damn song,” she replies.  A little laugh escapes my throat, my left fingers weakly press into the strings, and my right hand shakes into place. The song is almost unrecognizable for the first few strums, until something spreads through my body and solidifies it, starting from the hip and ending in my bobbing hands.

    When the last note of the last song rings out, the waves and grass are waving and cheering us on again. Now that my attention isn’t on playing the guitar, I can finally feel the soreness in my cheeks from smiling so much. Suddenly, Victoria’s hand slides onto my thigh, and I whip around only to find Victoria’s eyes are locked on my face. This time she’s really close; so close I can feel hints of her breath against my face with every passing moment. “Max…” She says my name, softly, but with a little scratch in her voice from singing so much. Victoria… It’s now or never, Max. She makes a little gasp when our lips meet, but the surprise quickly fades and she leans into me. I put the guitar on the ground and grab the corner of the blanket, bringing it to hers and closing us behind this curtain.