“Oh good, you’re both here.”
“What’s up, Sarah?” I asked.
“Guys, last week’s class went great! You handled the unexpected weather very well and—”
“Maybe unexpected for you,” Rick mumbled.
Sarah sighed. “Okay, Rick, next time, I will check with you. Now this Friday, I checked two different weather stations, I called in the experts, I even did a non–rain dance—”
“There’s no such thing,” Rick interjected.
“So, do either of you have a problem with an outdoor activity this Friday night?”
“Fridaynight?” Rick and I asked simultaneously.
“Sleeping under the stars is something that all campers should have the chance to experience during their summer,” she started. “And you two watching the sunrise this morning gave me the idea.”
“There’s no water sports involved,” Rick pointed out.
“Or art,” I added.
“Rick, you’re just as good at setting up a campfire as you are at rowing a boat,” Sarah insisted.
“You expect these kids to be up at five twenty-nine and ready to be creative?” I asked.
“Of course not, art is optional. They can bring their supplies, but if they only want to watch and enjoy nature at work, then it’s still a beautiful thing in their minds.” She smiled at her own sentimental comment.
“Okay, Sarah, what’s the plan?” he asked, pulling up a chair to look at her outline. He pulled one out for me and I joined.
CHAPTER 13
Chris picked me up right on time Thursday night, maybe even a minute or two early. I probably wouldn’t have noticed if Rachel hadn’t pointed it out. The plan had been to meet him there, but he’d heard the turnout might be larger than expected and thought it better for us to show up together.
“Guys should always be at least five-to-seven minutes late, so they don’t appear too eager,” she had criticized, a little too loudly, before I opened the door.
I gave her a warning look, then opened the door. Chris looked amazing. He was dressed in clean khaki pants and a short-sleeved black, buttoned shirt. His hair was neatly styled, and his smile turned on as usual. I wore a denim miniskirt and a pale-pink blouse.
We strolled onto the beach from the parking lot, then ended up around the same spot we had originally planned to meet near. The moon was at its three-quarter state, and the dark sky was clear. It was a little windy, and the salty ocean misted around us.
“Two please,” Chris told the girl in the portable ticket booth.
The dark-haired, college-age girl smiled at him then glanced at me. “Enjoy the show,” she said, handing Chris the tickets.
“Sorry about that,” Chris said as we made our way through the crowd and toward the main stage. It was barely lit while the band set up their equipment.
I looked around, confused, and gave him a questioning look.
“I tend to get a lot of attention from girls, like the one in the booth. So I apologize.”
I mentally shook my head. I still didn’t get it. Was he really apologizing for the girl smiling at him? I couldn’t decide what I didn’t like about that: whether he noticed her smiling at him or that he even brought that up. Yes, the girl was clearly flirting, but she could have also just been really polite. Regardless of her knowing his comment or not, I felt embarrassed for the girl.
“I didn’t even notice,” I simply replied.
“Would you like a beverage?”
“Only if it’s really cold.”
A minute later Chris returned with two large plastic red cups filled with cold beer.
