“What for?”
“It’s just...” I play with my bun. “I’ve never been on a date before.”
“Really?”
I nod.
“Well...” Samir’s phone beeps. I’ve never met anyone who leaves their ringer on, but his is, and it’s loud.
“Sorry.” He pulls his phone out and frowns, typing out a text with one hand. “Sorry. My ex-boyfriend.”
“Oh.”
I hate that he saysboyfriend.
(I like that he saysex.)
Samir locks his phone and slips it back in his pocket as we walk. My shoes sink into the damp sand. The tide is going out.
“So...” I say.
“So?” His grin widens. He’s got dimples.
“So am I a rebound?”
“Rebounds don’t get cotton candy.”
“Was it serious, though? Your ex?”
His grin falters. “It was... kind of a mess.”
I know I shouldn’t ask (the answer might kill me), but I can’t stop myself.
“Did you love him?”
Samir thinks for a second. “The thing is— Watch out!” He yanks me back as a huge wave rolls in, knocking some squealing kids off their feet and pushing them up the shore.
My feet catch on Samir’s and I tumble on top of him, face-to-face. His sugary breath tickles my cheeks. My skin sings where it meets his.
“Are you okay?”
“Uh, yeah? What was that about?”
He lowers his voice. “Is it safe for you to get wet?” His eyes sweep down, toward my legs, which are twined with his. His leg hair is wirier than mine, and I relish the texture.
“What?”
“Won’t the water make you... you know...” His eyes do that sweep again, and he whispers, “Change?”
I blink down at him, the warmth in my heart warring with cold dread.
“You do remember me.”
He swallows and nods. “From the moment I saw you.”
He remembers me. He remembers me.
I’m elated.
