ide. There is a small, forgotten portion of beach on the other side of the large dock. It is a very shady place where I used to find a majority of my shells. Since the sun doesn't hit it very
d girl. It wasn't until the next year that p
, leaving Brandon with the keys and with the title of 'temporary manager'. I heard the two l
shirts. The blonde one chose the dolphin transfer and the black-haired one chose the Hawaiian flowers. When Bra
onde mutters, placing her
one points out before digging her fing
promises a variety of starfish, surfboards, flowers, but of course, she wants the rare flip-flop. No one ever wants the surfboards. Only a preteen boy made his mother buy one so he could add it to the collection o
ly full because I was stil
nd the counter, moving in my place so I can steal a shirt from the back and take t
all box beside the transfer shelf. I take it and open it, finding a new transfer design inside. It's a sunset, but not like my signature sunset. This one is more red than orange, and it doesn't m
to the table, taking the fresh black one. The new sh
. My eyes widen at the sight of Brandon. His eyes fall
gn breed of silence falls between us as he stands in the door frame and as I stand, making no move to put the clean shirt on. He looks at me as if he's waiting for it to ha
to convince myself I don't like him, I do. I really do. Just seeing him gives me purpose in a way that makes waking up easier. A day without him feels like a waste. An hour without him feels like five. Kiss me, Brandon, I dare with my eyes, even
. It is sweet enough to be the sealing kiss at a wedding, passionate enough too. We part for a few seconds-enough time f
inst him. I wouldn't be surprised if he pulled down my shorts and lifted me up and took me right against this wall, but I don't want to think about that because I shouldn't be doing this
, the taste, his smell, the feel of his shoulders, all of it seems personal
el
e don't do this to me
there any
leaves the back room. "Hi," I hear him greet the customer
inst it, angry with it. Why did I do that? How did that even happe
ss. I crumble after one kiss? What kind of manipulative genius is Brandon? Apparently one far too strong for my armor. I can't stay here and wait for him to trick me again. I have to leave. Abandoning
s after me, not
close as I jog across the calm street, knowing the only place I'll be safe is the small, hidden portion of the beach. If I could go home, I would,
beach is protected by the rock wall from behind and on the left, leaving the right to be blocked by the tall thick pillars holding up the dock. And in fron
y. I bury my hands in the sand and wiggle my fingers around, needing to hold onto the world. I find a shell beside me. It's white and broken and ridged. I rub it between my fingers, dusting off the damp sand only for it to stick to my skin. Being down here reminds
he saw that. How can I blame him when I gave off such hints? Nothing says 'kiss me' more than refusing to pu
sly, I can't work with him i
ying a thing. The sadness I felt was infecting me, I felt the wave rush all the way to th
to lay in bed, but by night, all I wanted to do was forget about him. My sadness was quickly replaced with anger, and I was hungry for revenge. The summer was coming to an end and I felt like I had nothing to los
to stay boarded up at home, locked in by heartbreak, and were surprised to see me walk into the house. Lauren hurried to me an
ot, so you
he? Do y
n secret from a small tint container she kept in her pocket. She had heard of my heartbreak and told me that it would help. I thought I was going to die. That's the p
ly one to see me slip out the back gate and stumble into the street. He followed and asked where I was going as
he said, coming up beside m
wanna g
ll take
besides my wounded heart, and I appreciated that. I thanked him when we arrived, and he smiled and waited until I was inside before walking off. I don't remember anything else, and many details in between were never recovered, but I do reme
ll and down the street, preparing to face Brandon. With the broken