It was May, but we drove out to the shore anyway in my big sweater and purple cotton scarf wrapped around my neck, holding it up to my chin as we waited for the heat to start up in the car. My breath looked like a cloud when I laughed, my lips two inches from yours as I pulled you by the strings of your black sweatshirt. I grabbed two bags of sour patch kids, trying to throw them sideways into your mouth as you drove, a scattered trail of neon green and yellow left on the foot mat under the wheel, two our three stuck between the crease in your seat. I know it wasn't sunny, but I swear it tried to peak through the overcast, or maybe the gray sheen of it off the pavement is what made your face shine. Your black hair looked so cool on your pale skin, yelling at me to get my ***** red sneakers off the dashboard. I tried to write a little poem on your hand with my fingers as it traced your bones like a maze while you let it rest on the console. We played that CD from that band I didn't know you loved, and I promise I ******* up all the words, but I just like to hear your try to sing over me.
I made you swear not to splash me when we tried to let the ocean kiss our toes, a salty welcome to the love affair I had with the way you made me bite my lip when I almost smiled too much at the way your eyes moved when you talked about one of your favorite things or about how big the ocean was and how small you were, even if you never said it just like that. I could tell what you meant. You did it anyway. The water was so cold on my cheeks, my ribs clashing into one another like a song my head hadn't had the time to learn yet. You held them in place while holding me. You kissed the summer from my lips and asked the sun to come out just for a moment while I made tiny castles out of pink shells and faded driftwood pieces leftover from the winter. We ran out of iced tea so we drank each other in, in layers, on the sand with our jeans rolled up to our ankles, letting the mask of almost blue skies envelope us in a Saturday afternoon spent figuring out little things like old memories or each other's favorite movies.