the last of it. Already, the warmth of it starts to coat my veins like a nice, thick syrup, and I relax a little.
I don’t give a shit that Krisjen went over my head, or that Callum wants to watch me roll around in the mud like a pig for his entertainment.
I don’t care that I had sex for the first time last week and it was with a girl, and I don’t care that it keeps hurting every moment I realize that some part of me isn’t touching some part of her.
I toss the flask back into Amy’s lap as we cruise across the tracks, “Cool Girl” playing on the stereo and the sky darkening to a steel gray. Clouds overlap clouds as the sea in the distance fills the air with its scent, nice and thick so that when you inhale, it’s almost like you’re eating.
I lie my head back, enjoying it while I can. I’ll miss this weather. I hate the cold, and while North Carolina isn’t the North, it’s north. Florida is south, but it’s not the South in the same way other states are.
It’s Miami and Cuban sandwiches. Music and history. Explorers and conquerors. Tacky-ass mailboxes and flip flops all year long.
It’s how we’re vampires who love the night, because the sun’s not beating down on us. It’s the swamps—the mangroves, the shade and the hidden spaces underneath the Spanish moss, the tall birds with their long legs quiet and still in the calm waters…
It’s the summer monsoons and the reptiles that keep you sweating and your heart jumping out of your chest. It’s laughing at the ‘Florida Man’ jokes right alongside the Yankees, knowing full well come retirement, they’ll be jetting down here to play golf, eat the seafood, and stay warm, because nothing beats the subtropics.
I know college isn’t forever. I can always come home. And until recently, I wasn’t really dreading leaving.
But now, I’m counting the days like an inmate on death row. Before I know it, a week has passed. Then a month. Soon, it’ll be summer, and I’ll be leaving a part of my heart behind. Everything feels wrong.
“Hell yeah!” Callum howls out the window to Milo as he swings into a spot on the side of the dirt road.
“Yay!” Amy squeals. Everyone in the back seat scrambles to get out, and I exit the car, pulling my Polo over my head and tossing it into the vehicle.
The lighthouse rises above us, a coral pink barely discernible against the black sky, and I dig my crossbody bag out of my duffel and slip it over my head before slamming the door. Everyone else runs ahead, while Callum falls in at my side, scanning down my tank top and taking my hand. “Let’s go do some stupid shit,” he says.
I close my eyes, inhaling the air charged with whatever’s brewing tonight, smelling more than just fucking rain. Storms carry promise. Something—anything—is about to happen, and people are always on the verge. Ready to run. Ready to be surprised.
“Fall” by The Bug spills out of the lighthouse, the steps leading up the foundation to the open door already filled with people standing around or coming and going. We walk into the structure, the sounds of the waves outside crashing onto the beach, but you can barely hear it as we enter a cave of darkness and smoke, the air thin with so many bodies crowded into such a small space. Speakers hang over the sides of the spiral staircase, and bodies I can’t identify loiter on the steps as far up as I can see.
“The Jaegers are here,” Amy shouts in my ear.
“Oh?”
I stop myself from looking to see which Jaegers she’s talking about, but when Callum slides an arm around my waist from behind and holds me like I’m his, I let him. Even going so far as to caress his hand over my stomach.
“Probably keeping an eye on their flag,” I tell her.
She shoots me a wicked look, and I think we’re both wondering how much trouble we’re in for tonight, especially since we’re on their turf.
I turn my head over my shoulder, inviting Callum closer and snuggling into his body. “I’m gonna dance.”
“I’m gonna watch.”
His mouth comes down, and I come in, but before he kisses me, I dive into his ear instead. “I hope you like it,” I say, talking loud over the music. “You’re gonna watch me a lot.”