Between Us and the Moon - Rebecca Maizel Page 0,90

can’t. But as he puts me down, the truth dips through me and I want to curl in on myself. For one moment, I believed my own lies.

Andrew leads me to the water.

I know I don’t have the strength to tell him about Scarlett right now. The pain of his absence was too much.

“I don’t have my suit,” I say.

“We find ourselves in this position a lot,” he replies.

“I don’t know,” I say. “What if my parents . . .” But I stop. Mom and Dad would never expect me to be out of bed.

He takes a step closer to me.

“You’re a big girl . . .”

He lifts the T-shirt over my head, the air holds a flicker of a chill, and I’m not wearing a bra. Even though the air is salty and humid, a ripple of goose bumps rushes over me. With one tug of his right hand, my shorts are almost at my ankles. I lift one foot and then the other. I am only in my underwear. I throw my hair back over my shoulders.

No Scarlett clothes now.

“You are beautiful, Sarah.”

I stand on that secluded bay beach and I’m exposed, open.

“Absolutely beautiful,” he says. He leads me toward the bay. Once I am waist deep, Andrew lifts me by my hips, just like that day we jumped in the ocean, but this, this is different. The water in the bay is almost still. It’s warm and he is firm under his shorts. And for the first time, I want to take my underwear off. I’ve never wanted to be so close to anyone before. I want him so close to me that we share our bodies.

He pulls me closer, kissing my mouth and when he pulls my hips to his, I gasp. I run my palms over his chest up to his shoulders.

I can’t stay out here as much as I want to. It’s too risky with Nancy’s bedroom facing out here.

“I should go in,” I whisper. Andrew kisses me again, and all I can do is kiss him back because I don’t want the night to end.

I do something very, very stupid.

“Come upstairs with me,” I say.

A glint of mischief plays in his eyes. Right, I’m standing in the harbor with no clothes on, he thinks I want him to come in for sex. And he’s smiling.

“Not for that,” I say. “I mean, I do want to, but there’re way too many people inside.”

“Okay,” Andrew says, and his eyes squint a bit. He’s confused, but that mischief plays in the raised corner of his mouth.

“Will you come in? Just to be with me. To sleep next to me. I have the top floor to myself.”

“Definitely. But I gotta be out by five in the morning.”

Perfect. No one will see you.

We trudge out of the water, and when we step back onto the sand I pick up my wet T-shirt and shorts, holding them close to my naked body. We tiptoe together and Andrew stays close behind me. The branches and leaves on both sides of the path tickle my arms. Andrew’s breath is quick.

“I haven’t snuck into someone’s house since high school,” he says in a whispered laugh.

“Yeah, me neither,” I reply, coming out of the pathway onto the moonlit backyard.

We climb the stairs to the deck. In the reflection of the glass panoramic windows the moon shines down on the patio. My hair drips and sticks to the middle of my back. My pink underwear is nearly see through. Who cares. I turn the handle. The crunch of the sand beneath our feet sounds so loud, I’m convinced Mom and Dad can hear this all the way on their side of the house. Once we get to the third floor, we won’t have to whisper. For once, I’m grateful that the Seaside Stomachache is so big.

I reach back, Andrew’s wet hand grasps onto mine and something about a boy in just his swim trunks, clutching onto his sandy jeans makes me braver. He is here for me.

For me.

I point to the stairs. They creak beneath our feet. We both stop and freeze at one particularly loud crack of the stairs. We dart past Scarlett’s floor and soon we’re up on mine. I open the door for him and we scoot inside.

His arms slide around me and I shiver, waiting for his body heat to warm me up.

“Come on,” he whispers and pulls away. I shiver again as the air-conditioning pumps through the vents onto