by Annie Harper
It was why she yearned to head for the shore anytime something even remotely bad happened in her life. Saltwater had always healed her, and there was no better place to find saltwater than the beach she considered her second home.
Poppy’s parents usually took a trip down for at least a few weeks in the summer, but she hadn’t wanted to wait for them. A rough spring semester at college had begun with her heart being broken, and she’d needed to run to the sand and waves much sooner than planned. Being on her own was what she’d wanted anyway and the freedom to spend her time without obligation to anyone else, not even the obligation of polite conversation. Her parents were good people, and she loved them dearly, but there were some things about her they didn’t completely understand.
It had been years since Poppy showed any interest in boys, and the first time she’d shown interest in a girl her parents had displayed mixed reactions: confusion from her mom, concern from her dad, disbelief from both. They’d had more than enough time to get used to it, but, while Poppy knew they accepted her, she hadn’t wanted them to come with her to the beach house. Not after things had ended so roughly with a person they’d come to know. She could still sometimes see a glimmer in their eyes that told her they hoped she would try dating some guy again. This was not an intentional hope, but a subconscious one, and she didn’t hold it against them. They tried, and she was grateful for that.
She just didn’t want them near while she tried to feel better.
Even driving to the beach was different, a solitary road trip as opposed to her usual ritual of settling into the backseat, reading a book and paying no attention to where they were. Now, on her own, Poppy noticed each and every landmark that meant she was getting closer to crossing the bridge. The neighborhood seemed even more welcoming than usual. And then she saw the sign she’d been waiting for, tacked up on one of the back balcony’s support beams: Ocean Break.
Poppy felt the salt in the air as soon as she opened the car door and heard the rush of the waves hitting the shore on the other side of the house. She heard the sound of people too, their voices washed out by the waves and seagulls. It only took seconds of standing there, taking it all in, for the tension she’d been holding in her shoulders to ease away. It made her smile to know that she already felt better and more relaxed, though she had just parked her car.
It took only two trips to get all her things to the room she’d always claimed as her own. The house seemed abnormally quiet after the dormitory, but Poppy couldn’t imagine anything better. It was clean, and all hers, and as soon as she found one of her swimsuits in a suitcase, she changed, leaving the rest of the unpacking for later. After checking her reflection to make sure she looked all right with her dark hair tickling against her skin below her shoulder blades and her blue eyes protected by sunglasses, she grabbed a towel and headed out the front door, down the wooden pathway and onto the beach.
The sand was soft beneath her feet. Poppy let her toes sink in as she walked and, after she found a clear spot to set her things, she kept going, feeling the transition from soft, dry sand to the place where it became wet and dense. The water rushed up over her feet and pulled back into the ocean as she approached the shore. It felt wonderful, and even better as she walked into the ocean until she was deep enough to push off the bottom and dive under, letting the salt water cover her entire body and start to work its magic.
* * *
“Look out!”
The quiet of the past few days had been wonderful, especially combined with the lack of a schedule. Waking up whenever and not having to worry about anyone noticing how long she slept was especially great. It wasn’t as though she was wasting time; she had nothing but time. All that greeted her in the morning was an empty house, all her own.
It had been days since she’d spoken to someone, or been spoken to. The brief pleasantries exchanged with a cashier when she’d gone to the grocery store didn’t count. She hadn’t even called her parents to let them know she’d made it, just sent a text. Three days into her vacation she was feeling settled, as if she never wanted to leave. It felt right to be in a place of such calm and warmth.
Her cycle had been simple: sleeping, swimming, lying on the beach and reading as she let the sun dry her, more swimming, more relaxing and then eating whatever food she managed to throw together. She had spent days on her own, glorious days of quiet and calm—which was probably why she didn’t realize that those two rather important words were directed at her.
“Look out!”
Poppy could also blame the fact that she’d been lying there, letting the sun do its job of drying the salt water on her body, and the warmth had been lulling her into a half-sleep. She knew better than to fall asleep, even if she was careful with sunscreen, but that halfway point was such a nice place. She’d been listening to the waves, letting them break through the chatter of people around her with their rhythmic crash against the shore.
It was peaceful, wonderful, right up until the moment something hard smacked her in the forehead.
Her eyes flew open, and she blinked a few times to readjust to the bright sun. The haze of drowsiness faded and she shifted to prop up on her elbows. What had hit her? She barely had time to register the culprit—a Frisbee—before her attention was drawn to a person running toward her.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!”
Sand pushed against the edge of her towel as a girl dropped to her knees beside Poppy, and Poppy had barely parted her lips to say she was fine before the girl took Poppy’s face lightly in her hands. This was almost as startling as being hit by the Frisbee in the first place. Poppy stared up at the girl, whose gaze flitted back and forth between Poppy’s forehead and her eyes as though she might be able to see if something was wrong below the surface.
“I’m so sorry,” the girl repeated. “Are you okay?”
Her voice was much softer now that she wasn’t yelling from across the beach, as soft as her hands where they cradled Poppy’s face. Poppy hadn’t felt this kind of touch for weeks, months, not since before her breakup, and the long absence of contact only resonated more deeply when the girl’s thumb brushed over her cheek. The girl’s touch was so gentle, her gaze so intent, Poppy almost didn’t register that she’d been asked a question.
“I’m fine,” Poppy replied, clearing her throat when the words came out rough. Days of not using her voice had combined with her almost-nap to leave her throat dry and scratchy. “It was more startling than painful.”
“Are you sure?” The girl’s fingertips, feather-light, traced the spot on Poppy’s forehead where the Frisbee had hit. Poppy nodded in confirmation. “I’m still sorry, it got thrown way past me, and there was just no way I could have caught it.”
“It’s all right, it happens,” Poppy said, sitting up a little more as the girl pulled her hands away.
“I’m Ava, by the way. Ava Laurent.”
Ava had been at the beach for at least a few days, if her tan was anything to go by. It was easier to see her once she wasn’t leaning so close, and Poppy was glad to have a chance to take her in. She was tall and lean, and her dark blonde hair hung past her shoulders and covered the straps of her blue bikini. She was gorgeous—that much Poppy had known from the moment she saw her.
“Poppy.”
“You know, we have some beer in a cooler over by our stuff if you want something cold to put on it, just in case,” Ava said. She added, “Or if you wanted one to drink. That would probably help too.”
“What time is it?” Poppy asked, furrowing her brow and pushing her hair out of her face with her sunglasses.
“Five o’clock somewhere,” Ava replied with a soft smile. She rocked back onto her heels, stood up and brushed the sand off her knees, then extended a hand and wiggled her fingers. “Come on.”
Poppy took Ava’s hand and got to her feet. Even if Ava weren’t pretty—it was a bonus that she was—Poppy would have gone with her. It was refreshing to have a conversation, even if because o
f a rogue Frisbee, even though Poppy had gone to the beach for solitude. After several days of being on her own, it felt good to join a group of people, to be taken into their fold with a simple introduction, as Ava threw the Frisbee toward one of the guys.
“Everyone, this is Poppy,” Ava announced. “Poppy, this is everyone. Now, no one else hit her with a Frisbee, or anything else for that matter, or she might not be our friend!”
The eight people in the group were evenly split between boys and girls, all of whom replied with some sort of greeting amid the laughter. Poppy offered a small wave and smile before Ava’s hand found hers again. With a little tug, Ava pulled her over to the cooler.
“How long are you guys here?” Poppy asked, pulling her sunglasses down out of her hair and sliding them into their proper place again.
“Through the end of the week,” Ava replied. She flipped open the cooler, pulled out two bottles and passed one to Poppy. “Cheers! You’re here by yourself, aren’t you?”
“Right.” Poppy took a sip. The coolness of the liquid in her mouth and the chill of the bottle in her hand were more than welcome after so much time in the sun. She knew she should have water instead, but she had had a bottle, which was now sitting empty by her towel. And, the beer was a welcome burst of flavor. “Were you just guessing that, or…”
“Sort of…” It would have been difficult to miss the sheepish look that spread across Ava’s features, even if the sun could have explained away her barely there blush. “It’s just… I’ve seen you out here before and you’re always by yourself, so I figured… either that, or whoever came with you really hates the beach. I swear I’m not creepy!”
“I didn’t think you were creepy,” Poppy said with a soft laugh. She shook her head and absently tapped her finger against the bottle. “Yes, I’m here by myself. Which sounds more pathetic than it is—I chose to be, I didn’t get stuck with it.”
“I didn’t think it was pathetic,” Ava replied and furrowed her brow. She shifted a step closer. “I think it would be nice to be someplace like this without having to worry about anyone else. Don’t get me wrong, I love being here with my friends and we had fun planning this trip together, but waking up to nothing but quiet and not having to worry about whether someone’s already in the shower, or if I made enough coffee for everyone or need to start another pot…” She trailed off with a shrug and a gentle smile. “It sounds peaceful.”
“It is.”
The peacefulness was Poppy’s favorite part. She hadn’t had it for the longest time. In the dorm there were always doors slamming, voices carrying through the halls, any number of disturbances.
“I didn’t mean to disrupt that.” Ava bit her lip and shifted her weight from side to side. “By bringing you over here, I mean. I just thought maybe you’d like to have fun with us? But if you want to be by yourself, that’s totally fine! No hard feelings or anything.”
“No, you’re fine,” Poppy said, to quell whatever hesitation or regret seemed to be reflected in Ava’s words. “You didn’t disrupt anything—well, other than the Frisbee part. I promise. I’d love to have fun with you.”
“Really?”
Even if Poppy wasn’t quite sure she’d meant it, the hopeful look in Ava’s eyes, paired with the brightening of her smile, would have been enough to convince Poppy of her own sincerity. Something about Ava produced a swoop in Poppy’s stomach, slightly terrifying but uplifting at the same time. The swoop was familiar; she knew exactly what it was. She hadn’t been sure if or when she would ever feel it again, not after how things ended the last time—but there it was. She gave a smile in return, nodded and clinked the neck of her beer bottle with Ava’s. “Really.”
“Yay!” Ava hopped onto the balls of her feet, grinned and brushed the pad of her thumb over Poppy’s forehead with her free hand. “Let’s try to keep you away from flying objects, though, okay?”
As much as Poppy had looked forward to solitude and quiet at the beach, she was taken aback by how glorious it felt to be drawn into an established group that treated her with familiarity. Ava had been serious about keeping her away from Frisbees, but they played bocce and helped one of the other girls with the huge, elaborate sandcastle she’d been working on for at least an hour; and when Poppy felt a nudge from one of the guys, who yelled “Tag!” and ran in the opposite direction, she sprinted after him without hesitation.
Poppy had forgotten it was possible to feel pure, carefree fun, with nothing behind it to make her think twice. She’d been missing that for a while, since she’d been with her ex-girlfriend, Elizabeth, who had been the perfect example of a Type A personality, and who hadn’t done well with spontaneity. It was refreshing and wonderful to run around on the sand with people who were practically strangers, but seemed like old friends, and laugh so hard and so long that she thought she might cry. Everything that happened after being hit by that Frisbee was far more of an escape than any of the books she’d brought, or watching movies at night by herself in the house or even swimming.
And then there was Ava, who seemed to be the queen of everything light and cheerful. As if it weren’t sunny enough on the beach, Ava seemed to make it even more so, with beaming smiles and laughter so full it made Poppy breathless. She couldn’t recall the last time she had been around someone so energetic and bright. And she felt a pull between them; no matter what Poppy was doing, she found Ava close by—and Poppy lingered near Ava, as if being close to her might transfer some of that bright energy.
Poppy lost all track of time. It was only when someone mentioned wanting to go back to their house to rinse off that she realized it was probably time for her to do the same. As fun as the afternoon had been, it had also been tiring in the heat. The thought of showering off the sticky sweat and sand clinging to her body was blissful. Yet she didn’t want to say goodbye to the feeling of weightlessness and pure happiness and she definitely didn’t want to say goodbye to Ava.
“Thanks for letting me hang out with you guys,” Poppy started, touching Ava’s arm. She’d been arranging the bocce balls in their case. “Maybe I’ll see you out here tomorrow?”
“What are you doing later?” Ava asked, biting her lip.
Poppy shook her head. “Nothing?” The question caught her off guard, but she would be lying if she said it didn’t make her heart race. “I don’t have any plans.”
“We’re having a bonfire; you should come!”
“I wouldn’t want to intrude…” These words weren’t the ones Poppy wanted to say; she wanted to accept the invitation with a “Yes, I’d love to,” but they slipped out automatically, the product of her polite upbringing.
“Are you kidding?” Ava pushed her sunglasses up into her hair and gave her a playful look. “Don’t be silly, Poppy, I want you to come!”
“All right,” Poppy replied. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she watched Ava grin. “Can I bring anything?”
“If you want, but we have so much,” Ava said, rolling her eyes. “We made the mistake of taking too many people shopping when we went for food, so—”
A shout interrupted them, and both girls looked over to the rest of the group, which had started to their house. They had already gathered everything but the bocce set, leaving Poppy and Ava. Ava’s eyes widened as she realized what they were shouting about.
“Oh, I have the key!”
Ava tugged a keychain out of the bocce case, then quickly zipped up the case and picked it up. She offered Poppy a smile and took a step toward her and rested her hand, with the keychain dangling from it, against Poppy’s arm. Ava’s touch was soft, soft as her hands had felt against Poppy’s face. Poppy closed her eyes slowly and opened them again. Ava looked at her intently, and her smile seemed to be just for Poppy.
“We’ll probably be out around sunset; I’m sure you’ll be able to find us pretty easy. Don’t worry about bringing anything but your pretty self, all right?”
And just like that, with a light squeeze
to Poppy’s arm, Ava turned on her heel and ran to catch up with her friends. Her smile growing, Poppy watched Ava go. She made herself walk back to retrieve her towel.
With a bonfire to look forward to, Poppy made her way along the path to her house. She would be glad to shower and then linger in the coolness of the air conditioning before it was time to head out to the beach again. It would give her time to think, too, to reflect on the turn her afternoon had taken. Ava was a breath of fresh air—so different from the personalities Poppy had grown used to. Poppy had had a semester to realize how, working so hard to keep things together with her ex, she’d lost herself in their relationship.
It had been so long since she’d thought she could be fully herself, but Ava had made her believe she could, and in just one afternoon of running around and having fun. That was enough to make Poppy nervous but hopeful, so she looked forward to the evening.
It seemed the sunset was slow to come.
Ava had been right, though, because when sunset finally did roll around and Poppy walked down the wooden path to the beach, she couldn’t miss Ava and her friends for the brightness of their fire. Poppy felt the wind coming off the water on her arms and legs; she hadn’t been out on the beach at night or in anything but a swimsuit yet this trip, but for the bonfire she wore a light dress with a flowing skirt that blew easily against her legs and fit closely in the bodice.
The now-familiar voices of the group grew clearer as she approached, and to be able to pick out and identify individual laughs made her smile. Still, her steps slowed; despite having been invited, she was unsure how to join them. Poppy barely had a chance to think about this before Ava glanced in her direction and lifted her hand in a wave.