The ocean spray is on her face, the tiny salty droplets like constellations on her skin. I realize that she's beautiful, ethereal.

But the space between us stretches for miles, a platonic bridge that I can't seem to cross.

"Sometimes I think that even the ocean doesn't have enough room for the both of us." She looks at me, her blue eyes defeated and choppy, the same color and temperance as the ocean.

I stare back at her in surprise. Maybe I don't really know Margo at all.