seven-year-old could want something, but an echo of the intensity with which I’d clung to that moment charges through me as the details float back.
I really thought it might not ever be the same if I went inside—that I might never be as happy again as I was playing war out on the beach with Callum.
“Pretty soon it’ll be too dark for you to even see the cards anyway, scar>
“We’ll be fast,” Callum declared, already on his feet. “Come on, Ashlyn!”
We sprinted for the cottage, changed into long sleeves and pants and allowed ourselves to be coated in bug spray. Then we raced back to the beach together in the fading light and played cards until every bit of sun was gone. Celeste was wrong—if you tried hard enough you could make out the numbers even in the dark. Callum and I kept right on playing by moonlight and my throat got dry, but I didn’t dare go into the cottage for lemonade. Our parents let us stay out on the sand for longer than I would’ve guessed, but in the end my uncle strolled down to the beach and said we could pick up where we’d left off tomorrow.
The next afternoon, eager to cement my friendship with my cousin, I begged my father to drive us into town to pick up Cheetos and pizza. My dad smiled and said I must be suffering a fierce cheese craving if I needed both those things to satisfy it. I told him the Cheetos would be more for me and the pizza more for Callum and my dad nodded and said he was a big fan of both those things himself but that if he took us we should only tell my mom about the pizza and not the Cheetos.
When Celeste and Ellie heard about the pizza, naturally they wanted to come too, and Uncle Ian said he could never resist pizza and to count him in. Only our moms and Garrett stayed behind. My dad let me get Fun Dip and Gobstoppers as well as a jumbo bag of Cheetos to share with my cousin. Callum said he loved the Cheetos and that the pizza was almost as good as Domino’s. As he was eating, a pepperoni slid off his slice and onto his T-shirt, leaving a red mark that he kept rubbing, smooshing the sauce into the fabric just like I would’ve done.
The six of us were sitting outside the pizza place, taking up their only two tables, when a woman in spindly heels walked past us in the direction of the 7-Eleven next door. The woman was holding a small black dog in her arms and Callum pointed to it and said, “Look at its wee paw.” I took a second look and noticed that one of the dog’s front legs was swathed in a light green sling.
“ Awww , poor thing,” my sister declared, but her reaction didn’t sound a fraction as interesting as the way Callum had phrased his. I hero-worshipped him more with each passing day, and at night, as Celeste and I lay in our shared bedroom, I’d repeat stories about the games we’d played and exotic-sounding things Callum had said. “He’s Scottish,” Celeste said sensibly. “All Scottish people talk like that, Ashlyn.” Then, bored of listening to me rave about our cousin, she began to tease me. “I bet you wish you’d let Ellie and me share a room now. You could listen to Callum talk all night.”
I stopped jabbering, hearing the change in her tone, and hoped that she’d drop the subject.
“You know you can’t fall in love with your cousin,” she continued.
“I don’t love him,” I snapped. I hated that she was trying to turn my fondness for Callum into something weird, and I didn’t love him anyway, not in the way she meant. “Do you love Ellie?”
“Don’t be stupid,” Celeste said.
“ You don’t be stupid,” I countered, on the verge of tears. “Just because he’s a boy doesn’t mean I love him.”
“Fine, fine,” Celeste said indifferently. “You don’t love him.”
The following day Callum and I went swimming together, as usual, and then tromping through the heavily treed area next to the house, unearthing bugs and pretending we were exploring the Amazon. Callum and I were as close, for the
I really thought it might not ever be the same if I went inside—that I might never be as happy again as I was playing war out on the beach with Callum.
“Pretty soon it’ll be too dark for you to even see the cards anyway, scar>
“We’ll be fast,” Callum declared, already on his feet. “Come on, Ashlyn!”
We sprinted for the cottage, changed into long sleeves and pants and allowed ourselves to be coated in bug spray. Then we raced back to the beach together in the fading light and played cards until every bit of sun was gone. Celeste was wrong—if you tried hard enough you could make out the numbers even in the dark. Callum and I kept right on playing by moonlight and my throat got dry, but I didn’t dare go into the cottage for lemonade. Our parents let us stay out on the sand for longer than I would’ve guessed, but in the end my uncle strolled down to the beach and said we could pick up where we’d left off tomorrow.
The next afternoon, eager to cement my friendship with my cousin, I begged my father to drive us into town to pick up Cheetos and pizza. My dad smiled and said I must be suffering a fierce cheese craving if I needed both those things to satisfy it. I told him the Cheetos would be more for me and the pizza more for Callum and my dad nodded and said he was a big fan of both those things himself but that if he took us we should only tell my mom about the pizza and not the Cheetos.
When Celeste and Ellie heard about the pizza, naturally they wanted to come too, and Uncle Ian said he could never resist pizza and to count him in. Only our moms and Garrett stayed behind. My dad let me get Fun Dip and Gobstoppers as well as a jumbo bag of Cheetos to share with my cousin. Callum said he loved the Cheetos and that the pizza was almost as good as Domino’s. As he was eating, a pepperoni slid off his slice and onto his T-shirt, leaving a red mark that he kept rubbing, smooshing the sauce into the fabric just like I would’ve done.
The six of us were sitting outside the pizza place, taking up their only two tables, when a woman in spindly heels walked past us in the direction of the 7-Eleven next door. The woman was holding a small black dog in her arms and Callum pointed to it and said, “Look at its wee paw.” I took a second look and noticed that one of the dog’s front legs was swathed in a light green sling.
“ Awww , poor thing,” my sister declared, but her reaction didn’t sound a fraction as interesting as the way Callum had phrased his. I hero-worshipped him more with each passing day, and at night, as Celeste and I lay in our shared bedroom, I’d repeat stories about the games we’d played and exotic-sounding things Callum had said. “He’s Scottish,” Celeste said sensibly. “All Scottish people talk like that, Ashlyn.” Then, bored of listening to me rave about our cousin, she began to tease me. “I bet you wish you’d let Ellie and me share a room now. You could listen to Callum talk all night.”
I stopped jabbering, hearing the change in her tone, and hoped that she’d drop the subject.
“You know you can’t fall in love with your cousin,” she continued.
“I don’t love him,” I snapped. I hated that she was trying to turn my fondness for Callum into something weird, and I didn’t love him anyway, not in the way she meant. “Do you love Ellie?”
“Don’t be stupid,” Celeste said.
“ You don’t be stupid,” I countered, on the verge of tears. “Just because he’s a boy doesn’t mean I love him.”
“Fine, fine,” Celeste said indifferently. “You don’t love him.”
The following day Callum and I went swimming together, as usual, and then tromping through the heavily treed area next to the house, unearthing bugs and pretending we were exploring the Amazon. Callum and I were as close, for the
Similar Books
