He knew he was in love with her from the first moment he saw her.
He and some friends were down by the beach, kicking a ball about, taking advantage of the deserted seashore to smoke a few joints, pushing each other over into the sand. It was early afternoon, there was a slight breeze coming from the sea.
She was lying on her back beside a tiny flickering campfire, eyes covered by aviator sunglasses, top pulled up to expose her belly to the sunlight, talking to another girl with long blondish hair. Suddenly she rolled over onto her stomach and stood up, picking something up of the sand. He squinted against the sunlight, and saw the tiny purple shell held in her hand. She held it up to her face, smiling at it for a second, then put it in her pocket.
And, just like that, he was in love with her.
It was so uncomplicated, like in an old Disney movie. One moment he didn't know she existed, the next he would have died for her.
She was tall, with long dark hair floating a little behind her back in the wind. Her eyes were dark too, like melted chocolate. Unlike any other beautiful girl he had ever seen, his eyes didn't automatically stray to her boobs. He was riveted on her face, trying to memorize every little detail. The boy had never known feeling like this could even exist, but here they were, unbidden, inside him.
The girl's friend, the blonde one, was standing up as well, calling to him and his friends, asking if they could play as well. One of the boys friends shouted back that they could, and both girls came over to join them. The boy shook his head, trying to make his brain work again, it seemed to have frozen.
The rest of the evening passed in a blur; all he could see was her. He learned that her name was Ali, that she and her friend were going to camp down by the beach that night, they had their tent packed up in the car.
At one point, they both ran for the ball at the same time, he touched her hand. The boy was no virgin, but the feeling h got when their skin connected was unlike anything he had ever felt before. He knew then that he would never want to touch any other girl again.
He didn't leave the beach that night. He and Ali sat, wrapped in an unzipped sleeping bag, by the little fire. The girls had brought a bottle of Vodka, and a few bags of marshmallows to toast, and he still had some pot left over from last night in the pocket of his jacket, which all in all was an interesting combination which he fell in love with at once.
He was in love with everything about her. He loved the way her eyes shone in the light from the fire. He loved her crazy little laugh when she was high. He loved the way she stared up at the stars, pointing out constellations, telling him their names. He loved the way she talked, mouth half full of marshmallow. He loved the stupid, half-arsed things she said. He loved her.
At dawn, they kissed.