by Annie Harper
It was both amazing and slightly scary how just that small gesture was enough to put Poppy at ease, but she tried to focus on the ease as opposed to the way her stomach swooped.
“I saved you a seat!” Ava proclaimed with a smile, patting the spot next to her on a cooler covered with a towel. Flicking her hair back from her face, Poppy held out the six-pack of beer she’d brought.
“I said you didn’t have to bring anything!”
“I know you said that, but I felt bad coming empty-handed,” Poppy replied with a grin. “Plus, you guys shared with me earlier, so it’s only right I share with you.”
“Tricky,” Ava said, with a shake of her head. Then she stood to put the beer in the cooler, and asked “Anyone else want something while it’s open?”
Drinks were passed around and the cooler was shut again. The crackling of the fire was so lovely, with the waves crashing in the background and just enough breeze to make the warmth of the flames welcome. Clearly it wasn’t the first time someone in the group had built a fire like this: the perfect size and neatly contained. Poppy felt so comfortable, she might want to stay for hours.
“Thanks for inviting me,” she said just loud enough for Ava to hear.
Ava smiled, so genuinely, as though she had all the time in the world to spend with the person she directed it toward. It was silly to read so much into a smile, Poppy knew, but she had been dealing with those bright smiles for much of the day. She’d spent a fair amount of time already thinking about what it was, exactly, that made her feel the way she did when Ava smiled.
“Of course! I would have been sad if you didn’t come.” Ava shifted toward Poppy and tilted her head. “How’s your head?”
“My head?” Poppy raised her hand to her forehead; her fingers ghosted over the place where the Frisbee had hit her. “Oh, it’s fine. There’s not even a mark to use to get sympathy.”
“Aw, well that’s good, I suppose,” Ava said with a sigh. She grinned. “I was going to offer to kiss it better, otherwise.”
“I would have said it hurt if I’d known that.”
The words were out before Poppy realized she was saying them. She’d said them in a teasing tone, for which she was instantly glad, but still, the few seconds after she spoke froze, and the words hung in the air between them, waiting. Ava didn’t look put off; her grin turned into a smile, and she brought her hand up to rest gently against Poppy’s cheek. She sat up straighter, leaned over and tilted Poppy’s head down slightly. As Ava pressed a kiss to Poppy’s forehead, Poppy’s eyes closed.
The swooping feeling Poppy had felt in her stomach was nothing compared to what she felt then. Ava’s lips were soft and warm and they lingered long enough to make Poppy wonder if time had stopped, but the sound in the background—waves, the fire, conversations—proved otherwise. She rested her hand over Ava’s hand on her cheek, fighting the way her breath threatened to catch in her throat. When Ava started to pull away, the loss of the gentle pressure against her forehead caused Poppy’s eyes to flutter open.
“There,” Ava whispered; the corners of her mouth quirked up in a smile again as she pulled back enough for them to see each other. “Now you have that saved up, if starts to hurt later.”
“Thank you,” Poppy murmured. Her fingers flexed slightly where they rested over Ava’s. Ava laced their fingers together and then pulled her hand away from Poppy’s cheek.
“Of course,” she said. She nudged Poppy’s shoulder with her own, keeping her body angled toward Poppy’s but letting her attention flicker to the others around the fire.
Even though she was on the fringe, Poppy felt welcome watching Ava’s friends interact. As they shared stories and inside jokes around the fire, Poppy could see how close they were and how well they knew each other.
Music from portable speakers was a pleasant distraction, something to listen to when so many words were flying around. It ranged from pop songs to music Poppy wasn’t familiar with, loud enough for her to hear but soft enough to keep her from being able to take it in. A few more logs were thrown on the fire, and Poppy sank into a warm sense of comfort.
Then the song changed just at a lull in conversation, and Poppy recognized a song she hadn’t listened to for months, a song that had been a particular favorite of her and her ex-girlfriend. It was a song she’d managed to forget. She sat up straight, frozen in her seat, staring into the fire.
“Poppy?” Ava’s voice, too soft to be heard by anyone else, broke through the music. Poppy glanced away from the flames to look at her. “You okay?”
Seeing so much concern in Ava’s eyes, Poppy realized she’d overreacted, even though her response was involuntary. The thing was, it wasn’t even a romantic song. It had always made her want to get up on her feet and jump around as if she didn’t have a care in the world; it was a song she’d loved before it became something meaningful between her and her ex.
Just thinking of that made annoyance flare up. It was a song. Sure, it had been theirs, but she hated that it might make her feel this way every time she heard it. She’d enjoyed it before and she wanted to enjoy it again. The easiest way to do that was to find it a new context.
“Yeah,” she replied, and cleared her throat. “This song always makes me want to dance.”
“Then dance!”
“It wouldn’t feel right dancing by myself,” Poppy said, and she couldn’t help but smile when the other girl’s eyes seemed to light up.
“I would never make you do that,” Ava replied with mock seriousness. She squeezed Poppy’s hand as she got to her feet. “Let’s dance.”
When Poppy and Ava stepped out from the circle of makeshift seats and started to move, someone turned up the music. It was freeing to let loose and flow with the music. They weren’t alone for long—many of the others joined them—but, with Ava holding her hand, it still seemed to be just the two of them. It was blissful to make new memories to be triggered by the same song, memories to take the place of those from the past.
The waves were still audible through the music and the voices mingling as they sang along in parts of the song. The breeze grew stronger and tousled Poppy’s hair; it picked up the fabric of her dress and blew through it as if trying to carry her away—she thought she could fly, if she wanted to.
Ava danced as though she didn’t care if the whole world was watching. Her hand hadn’t left Poppy’s since they’d stood up. Their fingers hooked together to keep them from drifting too far apart. Poppy thrilled at the touch of Ava’s fingers, and the way their eyes kept meeting in the low light from the fire.
Song after song, the dancing continued. Finally, Poppy felt breathless and took a step back as another song faded out. She pushed her hair back from her face and glanced at the fire, which didn’t seem nearly so inviting now that she had been moving enough to break a sweat.
“I think I’m going to walk a little,” she said, stepping close enough for Ava to hear. “Just by the water.”
“Want some company?” Ava glanced at the shoreline and turned back to Poppy, her eyes slightly widened. “Unless you meant to go by yourself… sorry. I thought it sounded like a good idea, get a chance to cool off.”
“Company sounds perfect.”
Ava grinned and let go of Poppy’s hand to move over to the few people still sitting by the fire and tell them where she was going. Then she hooked her own arm into the crook of Poppy’s. “To the water!”
The closer they got to the water, the darker it got; but the lights from the houses along the beach kept them from being too blind. Every few seconds the water rushed up over their feet and then pulled back out to the ocean, taking wet sand from beneath them and tickling the soles of their feet. Poppy let their arms untangle as Ava leaned down to pick up a seashell, and then felt slightly disappointed that they didn’t hook arms again. But Poppy didn’t want to care too much about that. She already felt beyond lucky.
“I’m glad you invited me,” she said between waves and glanced at Ava
. Poppy didn’t mind taking the brunt of each wave; none of them splashed higher than her calves. “To hang out with you guys this afternoon, and then tonight.”
“Of course,” Ava murmured. She paused and then went on, speaking less softly. “I mean, we hit you with a Frisbee! I’d been wanting to talk to you anyway, though.”
“So the Frisbee was a ploy—”
“No!” Ava laughed, shook her head and scrunched her nose. “It wasn’t a ploy, it got thrown too hard, and I couldn’t get it. Believe me, none of us have good enough aim to hit you on purpose.”
“Why’d you want to talk to me?”
“It’s like I told you before, I noticed you,” Ava went on, giving a little shrug. “You were always by yourself, and I know some people like being by themselves sometimes, but you were always on your own, and I thought you might be lonely. So I was going to invite you to come play with us if you wanted, but I never got up the courage. And then the Frisbee happened.”
Poppy glanced at Ava and furrowed her brow. “Courage? I’m not that intimidating—”
“No, but you’re beautiful.”
They both stopped in their tracks—Poppy first, her feet settling in the wet sand as the water rushed over them, then Ava a few steps later, when she realized she was walking on her own. Her eyes wide, she turned back to face Poppy; she took a step closer. The silence hanging between them was soon broken by the next wave coming up over their feet and the distant sounds of laughter and music from a nearby house—too soft to be disruptive, but still loud enough to hear. Loud enough to make Poppy close her eyes for a long moment. She extended a hand toward Ava.
“Dance with me?”
Ava wordlessly slipped her hand into Poppy’s; her fingertips grazed Poppy’s palm and sent tingles all the way down to Poppy’s toes. They laced their fingers together and Ava took another step toward Poppy. The song was slow, timeless, so different from the fast-paced pop that had blasted from the speakers by the campfire. Poppy’s arm moved around Ava’s waist as though it was always meant to be there, and Ava’s arm circled Poppy’s shoulders. By the time the next wave splashed their legs, they were pressed close, swaying with the music as they rested their temples together.
One word Ava had used stuck in Poppy’s mind: lonely. She’d always taken time away from other people to recharge, decompress, settle back into herself, and that’s what she’d anticipated her vacation would be about. Going places on her own had always been an adventure, an escape from obligations or having to stick to a schedule. Usually, she didn’t feel lonely.
She hadn’t been wallowing; she hadn’t let herself linger over memories or feelings that had come and gone dozens of times since one bad day turned into several and then into weeks. No, this vacation had been peaceful, and maybe that should have been a sign to her earlier on that she was already over it, already moving on.
But she hadn’t realized that until Ava. Until she saw that smile, until she felt a swoop in her stomach instead of a pang in her chest. She had the same swooping feeling now, with her fingers laced in Ava’s as they held each other close and slowly danced to the barely audible music. It wasn’t until Ava’s hands had touched her face that she’d realized how much she’d been missing human contact.
Yes, she’d been lonely.
Being with Ava felt right, with the water moving over her feet and the wet sand covering her toes, with the ends of Ava’s hair tickling her arm where it rested against Ava’s back. The soft sound of Ava’s breathing, so close to Poppy’s ear, was not lost in the vast roar of the ocean. A light sprinkle of rainfall had begun, and the music had faded out, but that wasn’t enough cause for them to stop. Ava’s arm left Poppy’s shoulders just long enough for her to drop the seashell and let her fingers trail through Poppy’s hair. Ava’s fingernails scratched Poppy’s scalp luxuriantly, then started their descent. Poppy’s eyes slowly closed; her breath caught.
“Now I’m the one who needs to get up the courage,” she murmured. Ava’s fingers paused before moving back up through her hair.
“Why’s that?” Ava asked, her voice nearly soft enough to be drowned out by the waves.
“Because I want to kiss you.”
To be honest with herself, Poppy knew she’d thought about kissing Ava ever since that first moment when Ava held her face, so gently, and checked to make sure Poppy wasn’t hurt. The thought had grown in frequency as Poppy had become more familiar with the way Ava laughed, the way her hair fell into her eyes on the right side of her face more often than on the left, the way she rubbed her thumb against the back of Poppy’s hand almost habitually, and the way she tilted her head to rest her temple against Poppy’s.
“You don’t need courage for that,” Ava whispered, her mouth so close to Poppy’s ear her lips brushed the skin. The touch was barely there, but it was enough to send a shiver all the way through Poppy and make her toes curl in the sand.
They pulled back. Poppy took in the small raindrops clinging to Ava’s eyelashes and slipped her hand out of Ava’s to gently cup Ava’s jaw as she pressed a soft kiss against Ava’s lips. As she let her lips part, Ava’s fingers ran up into Poppy’s hair and cradled the back of Poppy’s head, and her lips caught lightly against Poppy’s as she pulled away, only to kiss her again a split second later. Poppy felt her whole body tingle; each little kiss sent her senses into overdrive and made her want more. She felt as if a fire had flared up inside of her, one that had been dormant for too long. Ava had sparked it, and not even the waves from the ocean rushing up against Poppy’s legs or the rain falling down on her from the skies posed a threat of putting it out.
It seemed that neither of them wanted the moment to end—Poppy knew it for herself, and Ava did not pull away except to take a breath. Poppy felt lost in the best way, lost in Ava and the way her lips felt against Poppy’s own, the way her fingertips pressed gently into her hair, the way everything felt as if it were happening so quickly and so slowly at the same time. Poppy had no idea how long they’d been away from the fire, how long they’d been standing in this exact spot.
A loud, long clap of thunder made them jump and finally broke the spell. Poppy looked at Ava and then tilted her head back to peer up at the sky. At some time the rain had gone from a mere sprinkle to a full-fledged shower, but she hadn’t noticed. Lightning lit the sky.
Ava let her hand slide from Poppy’s hair and down, her fingertips tracing Poppy’s arm. She reached for Poppy’s hand. “We should get under cover!”
Poppy pushed her wet hair out of her face; she scrunched her nose at the sensation of her hair clinging to her skin and gave a nod of agreement. She squeezed Ava’s hand softly and glanced back; she didn’t want to leave the spot where they were standing or the close proximity to Ava’s body, or lose the lingering phantom of Ava’s kiss on her lips, and she absently nipped her lower lip. More thunder rumbled, and she took it as a sign to stop wasting time. The rain was a downpour already, and there was no sign of it letting up.
They started back down the beach holding hands, walking as fast as they could without starting to run. With no sign of anyone else on the beach, it was clear that the rest of the group had had the sense to get inside when the rain started. It was eerie, traipsing through the sand on an empty beach in the rain, finding their way back to someplace familiar.
“I’m sure they took everything back to the house already,” Ava said, giving Poppy’s hand a tug. “No use being out by a fire when it’s raining and all.”
Poppy nodded and turned to walk backward, facing Ava, so she could see her as she spoke. She remembered part of a conversation they’d had so much earlier in the day that she’d almost forgotten it. “House full of people all raucous and trapped inside because of the weather… want to go somewhere quieter?”
Poppy’s house was closer; even if it hadn’t been, she wasn’t ready for the night to be over. It had all felt so easy and right—no way their time together should be cut short just because of some rain. It w
as worth being soaked to the skin to walk slowly backward and to see the way Ava’s eyes lit up and how quickly the smile spread across her features.
“I’d love to,” Ava replied, taking a quick few steps and getting close enough to kiss the corner of Poppy’s mouth. She nudged Poppy’s cheek with the tip of her nose. “Take me home.”
Poppy couldn’t recall a combination of six words that had ever sounded so sweet. She tugged Ava’s hand, and they started to run across the sand, all stumbling giddiness and laughter as they made their way toward Ocean Break with the rain pouring down. Poppy’s mom had been right—salt water heals everything.
By the time they got to the house—both soaked to the skin, neither ready to let go of the other’s hand—Poppy was confident that rainwater could too.
About the Authors
Rachel Davidson Leigh, “Beautiful Monsters”
Rachel Davidson Leigh is a writer, educator, and small town native who tells stories she wishes she could have read as a teen. Beautiful Monsters is her first published work of fiction. She lives in Wisconsin with her family and two dogs, who are spoiled out of their tiny minds.
Suzey Ingold, “The Willow Weeps for Us”
Suzey Ingold is a writer, linguist and coffee addict, currently based in Edinburgh, Scotland. Brought up in a household where children's books are quoted over the dinner table, literature has always had a strong influence on her life. She enjoys travelling, scented candles and brunch.
Amy Stilgenbauer, “The Fire Eater’s Daughter”
Amy is a writer and aspiring archivist currently based in southeast Michigan. She is the author of the novelette series, Season of the Witch, as well as the Young Adult novel, The Legend of League Park. When she isn’t writing, Amy enjoys all things bergamot and tries to keep her cats away from her knitting.
Ella J. Ash, “Surface Tension”
Ella J. Ash is a lawyer by day and an author by night. She has been a writer in online fan communities wince 2006. She also enjoys dance parties with her family and cooking experimental vegetarian cuisine. She lives in Toronto with her partner, three daughters and four tropical fish.
