"What are you doing?" My head snapped back at this intrusion, blinking away the remnants of the flickering orange glow that had enraptured my vision. Breathing. I was breathing, I mused. Seeing. Sitting. Blinking.

"Nothing," I finally answered, trailing her movements in the shadowy light as my friend bent to nudge me over a bit on the log. Ducking my head back down, I slid soundlessly and returned my gaze to the flying embers that spouted in soundless eruptions from the writhing flames. I found myself a secret friend lurking within these dancing sparks, ashes that glowed deeply only to lose their fire wheresoever they land.

In the cover of the dark anything can be taken for a friend, even if I'm just still alone. In the coating of summer, nothing need be taken for face value. with your feet burrowed to the ankles in the sandy grains, everything's that much easier to see, clarified and vibrating through your being. Running into the water, it's no longer just a decision for the mind to make.

And it was all coming to a close. Here, on a log of questionable condition, cracking under the new addition of weight. Summer, just a simple annual season, the doors drawing shut. The cloak of sensing, of being. With this one last week. Just one more special night, inhaling the sweetest scent as the waves licked gently at our skin, the sand.

"Nicole. Hey, Crei!"

I glared as I felt my shoulder colliding with the sandy ground surrounding us, the black cotton skirt I'd tugged over my bathing suit earlier tangling about in my legs.

"What was that for?" I shifted my gaze through those closest me expectantly.

"You weren't paying attention," Jonie eventually supplied innocently from her spot safely across the fire pit. I cocked my head at her, raising an eyebrow humorlessly as I began to pick myself up. "Hey, don't look at me!" she defended. "It was Macy who did it."

"Hey!" All heads spun around to watch the girl with chestnut hair as I slowly began edging towards her. "Thanks a bunch, Jonie," she added sarcastically, but laughed as she began running down the coastline.

Laughing myself, I tossed a wave to those still watching around the fire before chasing after her silhouette in the dim light given off by the stars. She'd had a good head start though, better than I'd thought when I paused to wave to our friends. The sand was clinging to my feet like an anchor, too, from running along the water's edge, but that wasn't reason enough for me to give up the relief of the cold foam tickling my feet. Even if she was getting away.

The sea breeze was tangling through my copper hair and I was too giddy to let this feeling go. Summer was flying around me at full speed, and the sensation of the water lapping at my feet as I sped after her caused me to keep laughing. It was joyous, but oh it tickled. After a bit though, it became too hard to keep my pace while my sides quaked with silent giggles.

Instead of trailing after her still -- as if I could catch her walking -- I collapsed into the sand under the twinkling sky. There, finally, I gave way to my rupturous chuckles, resting my hands on my belly until they subsided, tears glinting in my eyes and a sharp pinch in my side. The sand was warm around me by the time they had ceased though, and Macy long gone. I couldn't bring it upon myself to move from such a place, a smile on my face.

Rather, I leant my head back into the warm, wet sand, uncaring of the mess I would have to clean out of it in the morning. I snuggled into myself, the sand. The water my blanket, the grains a more comfortable bed than any. My shoes were back with everyone around the fire, my shirt, too. But the sky was everywhere, my lullaby. And for once, just for now, I didn't want to let go.

And so I laid there, tracing the heavens, until my friend came trudging back. Noticing the Big Dipper for the first time since I was a little girl and scouring for Polaris. Plotting the stars like a map as everything I could possibly remember until I felt the presence of another. The pressure of a palm pressing against my stomach, calling my attention to the kneeling friend beside me.

Groaning at her evidently swollen lips, I rolled over to my stomach and splashes some water at her. She gasped in mock outrage when the water sprinkled in a perfect arc across her face.

"Whoops?" I smirked, shrugging my shoulders in a helpless gesture.

"You bitch," she gasped lightly, splashing me back to no effect considering my already waterlogged state.

Wrinkling my nose as some of the salty water speckled my open mouth and I suffered a taste, I tackled her into the wet sand. "You started it," I proclaimed at my childish conquest.

"Nuh uh!" she sputtered as she struggled against my hold.

"Did, too! Admit it!"

"Never!"

"Then suffer!" I called out and, holding her pinned with one arm -- and sitting on her legs -- I began splashing her.

"Okay, okay!" she struggled before managing to get hers hands up in a position of surrender, "I started it!"

"That you did," I agreed, sliding off of her and helping her sit up.

"Meanie." She glared.

I only stuck my tongue out in return.

"So. . ." She said after a while.

"Hmm?" I offered her a glance, raising an eyebrow in question.

"So, aren't you going to ask me?"

Rolling my eyes mildly at her, I stood up and reached down toward her. "So, who was it, then? Who did you scar for life this time?"

Glaring as she accepted my assist, she shoved me lightly before responding, "I did not scar him! He wanted it!"

"I'm sure they all do," I chided, only half sarcastic.

"Oh, be a brat," she said, looping her arm with mine as we began trudging our way slowly back to the fire, a mess each in our own way. mingled with and smelling distinctly of the one brand you can never get too much of: Summer. The sweet, mellifluous beach.

"Alright," I submitted with a shrug, glancing into the depths of the sky, "start from the beginning."

-

-

-

I wasn't exactly surprised, come the next morning, to find a stranger on my doorstep, his hand hopelessly attached to my doorbell. This, this was normal, natural even. I'd like to call it the obsession phase -- I'd thought on it more than once. But, to be honest, I knew that was hardly fair. Not when she so blatantly led them on. Besides, after her story last night, not even I was entirely convinced she cared nothing for this particular boy. Even if it was simply the laws of lust and attraction.

And me? I was the middleman. Er, woman. Who somehow after all this time was still letting her give out my address. But then, what are friends for? No matter how aggravating at points.

Both my parents were at work, had been for hours, leaving me to the joys of an empty, silent house. Or it was, until he arrived. The doorbell had never sounded so annoying before, screeching soundly through the house for a non-stop five minutes. Even when I'd finally thought he'd ceased, taking advantage of the moment to spoon some of my breakfast -- lunch? It all becomes fuzzy once the schedule's broken and I sleep later. -- into my mouth, a harsh bout of knocking caused me to nearly choke.

I never pegged people as the persistent sort.

Still, reluctantly, I let the spoon fall into my bowl of yogurt and granola, bitter to accept my fate. My hair, at least, was still wet, I would probably need an excuse with this one.

I paused at the door, taking in a breath of courage before swinging the door open.

He seemed shocked.

"Uh, hi?" I cocked my head, drawing back his attention.

He blinked. "Oh, sorry! I didn't realize anyone was actually home."

"Yes, I'm sure your banging displayed that somehow," I muttered, changing my mind. Forget confronting him for her, he was clearly nuts. I was closing the door and running as far away as possible. Screw college, maybe I'd move to England. Or Scotland.

"Well, no one was answering."

"I was in the shower," I lied blankly, edging the door shut.

"Oh, right. . . I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"Well, if that's all, bye." I said all of this hurriedly, my movement with the door now evident.

"No! Wait!" I winced. "Is Macy here?"

"No," I stated calmly, half-hidden behind the door.

"It's just, she's ignored me. . ."

"Yeah, she does that," I stated offhandedly. He looked downcast. "Look. . ."

"Sam."

"Sam. Right. Listen, you can check the beach."

"Really? Thanks." He was smiling, wide and hopefully. "Hey," he added, "what are you doing?"

Breathing, Standing. Holding a door knob. Easing it shut. Longing for my breakfast. Wearing pajama shorts adorned with Woodstock. Glancing toward my book. "Nothing," I replied cautiously.

"Maybe you could help me look?"

I froze, wincing from my position behind the door, What was this? Did he not understand the concept of strangers? Of pajamas and wet hair? Of a door edging desperately to meet his face? Really, were all people oblivious or just the ones I was lucky enough to come across?

He wasn't leaving, though, and he was watching me. Waiting -- a creepier moment I could not recall. My arm was involuntarily twitching from its spot beyond his view, hidden by the door. If I stayed under his observation much longer I would most likely go insane -- although that would be a brilliant excuse for the revenge I intended to take upon Macy. Still, I was weak.

Glancing back forlornly to my breakfast, I agreed to his stare. I only mumbled for him to give me a minute before I first dumped my long-awaited food into the trash and, after having rinsed the bowl, found some decent clothes to wear.

I'd had a tattered pair of shorts at the top of my drawer and a blue tank top that I grabbed first, leaving my feet bare. It was my favorite shoe to wear, even if it was no shoe at all. It meant I could fee the tiny grains of sand before even reaching the beach, could find the windblown grains and become a part of it all already. I wasn't bound within unfeeling socks and laces, but floating along with it all.

He -- Sam -- however, glanced down at my bare toes quizzically. I pretended I hadn't seen it.

Pulling my rust colored hair behind my shoulders, I simply stepped down beside him and locked the front door with the key I stashed in my pocket. I refused to start another conversation with this. . . thing, and he was evidently wary of me now, too. I'd finally gotten him quiet, but we made our way to the beach in an awkward silence. Neither of us pulled away, exactly, having agreed to go along together, but were careful not to get too close.

He was here for my friend, and I was the best person to help him. And I, after all, had admitted that she liked him. we were using each other to get rid of each other.

By the time we reached the beach though, my new found shadow no longer pestered me. I found myself distracted, happily, from his stiff companionship. My attention was grasped -- by the waves cresting, the people laughing, the game of volleyball some were trying to set up, Macy walking angrily toward me. . .

Recognizing the stance of my friend above everything else, I let my smile droop a little before rushing out to meet her.

"Nicole! Why? Why did you bring him?" She glared at me when I reached her, grabbing my arm to keep me from falling after my abrupt stop.

"Uh. . . What?"

"Why did you bring him? Sam." She flicked her eyes pointedly to the boy in question who was cautiously making his way toward us.

"Maybe because he was making incessant, painfully annoying noise at my door this morning?" I challenged. "Why do you always want me to break it off for you?"

"Because," she whispered harshly, dragging me further away from the boy, "I just can't do it. I can't, I'm weak. You don't know them, you can do it without feeling bad."

"Without feeling bad?" I spit back. "Do you honestly think that I ever did this without feeling any bit guilty?"

She opened her mouth to answer but then guickly shut it, her eyes widening in fear.

"Macy?" Sam had reached us.

Her grip on my arm tightened, but I only shook my head. Breaking my arm loose, I began my trudge back up the beach. The sand was warming with the rising, hissing and stinging at my feet like black coals but I still lingered, knowing I would miss the feel of it surrounding my feet later.

I wasn't halfway up the beach before she joined me again, though. Instead of saying anything this time though, I just shot her a look.

"It's not that I don't like him," she mumbled, "it's just easier for the both of us this way. We're going to college in less than a week for cripe's sake!"

-

-

-

"You know, sometimes it amazes even me the amount of time we spend out here," I whispered into my towel.

"Hey, you're the one who insisted we actually have the race," Macy said sorely.

"You're just mad because she won," Jonie rolled her eyes.

"And you're only happy because she came in last," I added with a smirk.

"I would never be so cruel," she said, gasping dramatically and settling a hand over her heart.

"Right. . ." Macy audited slowly, cocking an eyebrow at her.

"Well, maybe I would," she deferred, shifting her dirty blonde hair, darker now in its watery state.

"Nutters. The both of you," I called out from my cocoon in my fluffy towel, lying back to watch the clouds streaming across the sky.

"Yes, but we're your nutters," they both called back before settling down beside me.

"And I wouldn't have it any other way," I added with a smile.

This was the way we were supposed to be ending our days together. This was why I loved Summer so much. Until he came along again.

I knew what would be the right thing to do when I saw him approaching along the coast. I knew Jonie and I weren't exactly needed anymore, but really? Macy was my best friend. No matter how annoying. Couldn't I just spend this one last week with her?

But she was watching him, too. I knew that look in her eye, and this was what she needed right now. So, stretching casually as I made my way up from my spot in the sand, I nudge Jonie, "C'mon."

"Hmm?" Was her sleepy reply.

"Let's go get some cookies. I have the urge for a movie marathon."

Slowly, she unfurled herself to my request, and Macy shot me a grateful look. I nodded my head slightly, leading Jonie off.

"Isn't Macy coming?"

"Nah, Mace isn't a big fan of movies. Plus, I think she said she has a doctor's appointment," I lied, once again, through my teeth.

Just before stepping off the beach though, we paused, as per our tradition, savoring this moment and the feeling of the grains beneath our feet.

Amazing, the inspiration you find when you join a contest. (And, yes, it's for a contest, or else I wouldn't normally be writing about a beach. So, to my friends, I haven't gone entirely insane yet.) Still have to finish my homework though. Should do that. . .