The Beach House

by Beth Reekles

My foot caught the airbed that Lee was sleeping on. I crashed down, arms flailing. My elbow whacked the end of Noah’s bed and I grunted as the air was knocked out of me. There was a long pause, like we were both waiting for someone to burst in.

  “Ouch,” I mumbled, face in the airbed.

  “Are you okay?” Noah whispered. I heard him climb off the bed.

  “Fine. Just hit my funny bone. Ow. Lucky the airbed broke my fall.”

  “Good.” And then, half laughing, he said, “Klutz.”

  “Jerk” was my only comeback. He chuckled again and I felt a hand on my waist, an arm pressed against my back. His hand found mine, and I managed to get to my feet without falling over again.

  “Sneaking around, Elle?” Noah said, mock-scolding me. His warm spearmint breath tickled my face. I giggled quietly and went to kiss him, but missed and ended up kissing his chin instead. He laughed, but then he kissed the side of my nose.

  I bit my lip to muffle a snort, and Noah stepped back, pulling me along with him, until we were both sitting on the bed.

  “How do you always manage to fall over, Elle?” he said, playing with the ends of my hair. My eyes now adjusted to the darkness, I could just about see Noah’s face, and it looked like he was smiling. Not smirking, but giving me that smile that showed the dimple in his cheek.

  I shrugged in answer. “Guess I can’t help falling for you.”

  He chuckled, and his forehead rested against mine. “You’re such a romantic.”

  “Is that bad?”

  “Hmm, maybe. But not when it’s you. When it’s you, it’s just cute.”

  Suddenly his lips were pressed against mine, finding their target this time, and I curled my arms round his shoulders, trying to draw him closer. Noah’s arms went round me too, pulling me into him, until we were lying on our sides facing each other, our legs tangled up of their own accord.

  “Your feet are freezing,” he commented.

  “Maybe your feet are abnormally warm.”

  “No, it’s just you.”

  I laughed again, trying not to be too loud. Then, in that ominous tone that told me he actually wanted to talk about something serious, he said, “Elle.”

  I had a feeling I knew what this was going to be about. I half hoped I was right, because we really did need to talk about it, to try to sort something out, but the rest of me wanted it to be something else, because there were so many things he might say that would break my heart.

  “What?” I whispered back eventually.

  “What…what are we gonna do? When I go to college?”

  He was waiting for me to answer him now. Even though it was dark enough that he probably couldn’t really see my expression, I composed my face. I shrugged in his embrace. “I don’t know. I don’t want you to—” I bit my tongue momentarily. “I’m going to miss you.”

  “I’m going to miss you too. But we should talk about what we’re going to do when summer’s over.”

  Now was my chance—to say that we could at least try long distance, that we shouldn’t call it off after summer just in case things didn’t work out, kind of like his mom had said to me. But I was so afraid that he might not want to, that it might spoil the rest of the time we did have.

  But before I’d made up my mind about what I should say, my mouth was already blurting out, “We could try long distance. We could at least give it a shot.”

  I stopped talking before I said something really stupid, like Unless you’d rather break up. Luckily for me, Noah didn’t seem to notice that my mind was freaking out more than a little bit.

  “That’s really what you want?” he asked.

  “Yeah. I mean, is…isn’t it what you want too?”

  Great work, Elle. Now he’s going to say no, it’s not what he wants, and the rest of the summer will be ruined. Good job.

  “Of course it is! But—I mean, I feel like I’m being selfish, if that’s not what you want. You’ll be waiting around for me to come back for Thanksgiving and Christmas break. It’s not fair to you that I’m all the way across the country in Massachusetts. That feels like a huge commitment, and I don’t want to ask you to do that if you’re…not…like, if you don’t…”

  My heart skipped a beat.

  He was more worried about me waiting for him to come back home than the fact he might meet someone who was prettier, smarter, all-around better than me? He was worried that I was the one who wouldn’t want to give a long-distance relationship a fair shot?

  “What I don’t want,” I said, propping myself up on my elbows and giving him a stern look he probably couldn’t see, “is to just break up and make things easy. Hell, Noah. When have we ever made things easy for ourselves?”

  I could just about make out his smile. “So…”

  “You know, I was the one thinking you wouldn’t want to do long distance,” I groaned, pressing my head into the crook of his neck. “I think we should get better at talking to each other.”

  “Talking is going to be pretty important when I’m on the other side of the country,” Noah agreed. His voice had taken on a low, husky quality, and he pulled me closer, his lips finding my neck. “But I can think of something pretty important for right now.”

  “That so?” I teased.

  Noah flipped us round so he was leaning over me, and I guessed it didn’t matter how old my pajamas were when Noah was busy running a hand under my tank top, the two of us moving slowly, quietly, whispering in the dark, glad to finally have some time alone.

  Chapter 7

  The next day we ventured out to a more public part of the beach, and the boys joined in a game of volleyball that Rachel and I decided to sit out. Volleyball had never been my sport, but it really wasn’t so bad when you were sitting on the side, watching. Especially when Noah looked even sexier than usual, what with the thin film of sweat on his broad shoulders, his dark hair flopping in his eyes, his abs…

  He happened to glance over when I was staring at him through my gas-station sunglasses (which weren’t dark enough to hide the fact that I was checking him out). He winked.

  “Oh my gosh, did you see that?” some girl squealed all of a sudden from behind me. “He totally just winked at me, right? I mean, that was so obvious, right? He totally winked at me.”

  I looked at Rachel, who glanced back at the girl and raised her eyebrows at me.

  “You should so get his number after,” another girl said. Rachel’s eyebrows went up even higher. I could see her holding back a laugh. “You have to. He was totally coming on to you.”

  I turned round, and the two girls looked at me. They seemed at least two years older than me, probably in college. “What?” one of them snapped.

  “He wasn’t winking at you. Just, you know, FYI.”

  The girl snorted. “Sure. What, you think he was winking at you?” She looked me up and down with the corner of her lip curled up.

  “Um, yeah,” I replied.

  “Oh, sure,” her friend scoffed. “He was looking at you.”

  “Well,” Rachel said, “considering she’s dating him, I’d say he definitely wasn’t winking at you.”

  I could hear the girls muttering behind us before getting up and stalking off. I grinned at Rachel, nudging her.

  “Who knew Miss Sunshine could be such a badass? Remind me to never get on the wrong side of you!”

  * * *

  That night, Lee took Rachel out to see a movie and go for dinner afterward. There was an art gallery opening in the next town over, so Matthew and June went there. Which left me and Noah alone in the beach house. I was swimming lengths in the pool when he came out and tapped me on the shoulder.

  “Did you forget about the special surprise I had planned for you?”

  Crap. I totally had.

  “Uh…”

  “I’m cooking dinner. Which, ho
pefully, I won’t burn.”

  “You’re cooking dinner?”

  “Sure I am. Everyone else is out, which means…we’ve got date night.”

  The words date night were all I needed to get me out of the pool and into the shower.

  I had no idea what to wear; my only pretty dress, the yellow one, was in the laundry. I had shorts and T-shirts, sure, but nothing I really wanted for a date, if we were going to call it that.

  I had no choice but to call Rachel.

  “You’re so lucky,” she answered. “I just went to the bathroom; I was about to go back into the movie. What’s wrong?”

  “Noah’s making dinner and I have nothing to wear.”

  I was really only after her advice about what outfit to put together and how to dress it up appropriately, since she knew practically the entire wardrobe I’d brought to the beach house.

  What I didn’t expect her to say was “The white halter dress in my side of the closet. Wear those cute black sandals you brought too. Now I have to go—the guy at the popcorn stall is frowning at me. Bye!”

  “I owe you,” I said, even though she’d hung up already. Hurrying, I found the dress she was talking about. I didn’t have enough time to do much with my hair, so I threw it up into a ponytail. But when I looked in the mirror, I smiled. I actually looked pretty good, especially considering I’d only had thirty minutes to get ready.

  I paused outside the kitchen, though, taking a deep breath and smiling to myself. When I breathed in, I could smell Noah’s cooking. Whatever it was, it smelled great—if maybe a little burnt.

  The kitchen light was off, but the soft light outside threw Noah’s silhouette against the glass doors. Still smiling, I walked out but lingered in the doorway.

  “It’s not that burnt,” he said, looking back at me. “I swear.”

  I laughed. “I never said a word!”

  He’d changed since I’d seen him earlier on my way to shower. He wore a pair of black jeans and a gray shirt that strained over his biceps. Even his dark hair was a little tidier than usual—like he’d run a comb through it. I found myself thinking he looked cuter and more carefree with it all messy, almost in his eyes. But of course, he looked as hot as ever.

  “You were thinking it,” he argued. “I know it smells burnt. At least you can’t really see it, though, because of the sauce.”

  I laughed again. “Who knew you were such a chef?”

  He winked, a smirk stretching over his face. “I’m a man of many talents, Elle, what can I say?”

  “Don’t get too arrogant,” I warned him.

  “Yeah, you’re right. Could give us food poisoning.”

  “Exactly my thoughts,” I teased, and went round him to sit down. The food looked good—no, it looked delicious, and it actually smelled fantastic too. It was some kind of chicken casserole with vegetables and a thick reddish sauce.

  The evening passed in a hazy blur of good food and laughter, my stomach fizzing every time Noah reached his hand out to mine.

  After we finished dinner, we walked down the familiar path to the beach, which we both knew by heart (which was just as well, given how dark it was already), our arms brushing against each other. At some point, our fingers interlocked too. Hand in hand like that, we walked onto the beach.

  The clouds had been gathering all afternoon and now blotted out the sky to a starless, inky black. The water was just as dark, the white foam of the waves breaking on the shore. Neither of us spoke as we strolled on the wet sand, the sea washing up and over our feet. I was carrying my sandals in my free hand, dangling them from my fingertips. Noah carried his flip-flops and had rolled his jeans up too.

  And it was nice. Just being quiet, I mean. The only sound was the crashing water off to the side. You couldn’t even hear any trace of distant traffic. There was the occasional bark of a dog, though—we weren’t the only people taking a nighttime wander on the beach.

  I loved it.

  There was a grumble overhead.

  I glanced up, craning my neck.

  “It’s probably not going to come to anything,” Noah said, meaning the thunder.

  We walked along a little farther before I said, “Thank you. For doing all this, I mean.”

  “All we’re doing is walking on the beach.”

  “No, I mean, cooking and stuff.”

  He shrugged. “It was just a casserole. Mom’s recipe.”

  “I mean it. This was a great date night. Thank you.”

  I pulled Noah to a stop so I could lean up to kiss him.

  Something cold and wet landed on my nose before I had a chance. Then another cold, wet thing landed on my temple, trickling down beside my eye.

  Tilting my head back, I looked up at almost the same time as Noah.

  Then those threatening, rolling clouds just ripped open, and torrential rain started beating down on us all of a sudden. I let out a shriek of surprise. Noah was already running for shelter, dragging me behind him and going so fast I kept stumbling over my own feet. The sand we kicked up stuck on my legs, and my ponytail was coming loose too.

  The rain hammered down, soaking me to the bone. My hair stuck round my neck or was plastered to my face where it had come loose from my ponytail. I could feel my mascara running, sticking my eyelashes together.

  We made it back up to the beach house, Noah ushering me in first and hauling the door closed behind us.

  We were both breathing hard and dripping water onto the floor. Thunder rumbled again outside.

  “You know you said this was a great date night?”

  I looked over at Noah and we both burst out laughing.

  Lovesick as it sounds, I felt almost hypnotized by him in that moment. Everything about him was perfect in my eyes—from the look he was giving me to the way he was so much taller than me, even to his crooked nose.

  “I love you.”

  He looked even more handsome with that smile in his eyes lighting up his face. He didn’t answer me, instead stepping closer, his lips crashing down on mine and his hands cupping my face. I didn’t need him to say anything, I realized. Noah might not be as easy to read as Lee, but right now, I knew everything I needed to.

  Chapter 8

  “Rachel’s gone, then, huh?”

  “Yep,” Lee answered. “Back to just the three of us now. At least for a couple more days.”

  The last few days with Rachel had been nice, but it had still felt weird. I hadn’t been able to shake the feeling things weren’t quite right. And I knew it wasn’t fair to not want her around when I was a huge part of why things were different. I knew I’d spent less time with Lee and more with Noah—and that, really, it was a good thing Rachel had been here, to help distract from that fact.

  Still, I wasn’t too sorry she’d left, giving me a little while longer at the beach house with the Flynn boys.

  “Just like old times.” I grinned.

  “I guess I won’t be coming back here for the next few years,” Noah said suddenly. “This might be my last summer here.”

  I didn’t think I’d ever heard Noah sound so sad. He tried to hide it, though, and coughed abruptly—like that’d cover up the emotion his voice betrayed. “And next year will probably be your last year too, and Lee’s.”

  “Why?” Lee demanded. “We’re coming back every year. Just like we always do.”

  Noah scoffed. “Don’t count on it. You guys can try, but it’s probably not gonna happen that way. Pessimist, I know, I know,” he said, cutting across me as I started to tell him he was being stupid and cynical. “But what about summer internships? Jobs? You’ve got it pretty cushy now, but that’s gonna change at some point. Not everything has a happily-ever-after.”

  What about us? What about our happily-ever-after?

  I bit my lip and decided not to say anything. I knew tha
t wasn’t what he’d meant. We were going to give it our best shot. I couldn’t ask for more than that.

  “Look at him.” Lee nudged my arm and pointed to Noah. “Thinking he’s all wise now that he’s old enough to go to college; thinking he’s got it all figured out. Noah, if you think we’re not dragging your ass back to this place every summer, you are sadly mistaken. Summer is all about coming here.”

  “You know, Lee, one day, you’re gonna grow up too.”

  “Never. Remember in fifth grade when I played Peter Pan in the school play? There’s a reason they picked me.”

  Noah sighed, but I cut him a look that said Don’t push it. The last thing I wanted right then was for the two of them to start arguing—because much as that might feel like old times, I really preferred not to be in the middle of it. Hoping to distract them, and not wanting Lee to sulk about the prospect of a summer without the beach house, I grabbed the football we’d brought with us.

  “Come on, then, Lee. You said you’ve been practicing.” I threw the ball at him. “Show us what you’ve got.”

  * * *

  “Jeez, Lee, could you make any more of a mess? I think I liked it better when Rachel was my roommate.” I wrinkled my nose at some underwear near my bed, kicking it over to Lee’s side of the room. He’d moved back in now that Rachel had gone.

  “You don’t think it’s weird we still share a room, right?” I asked him, remembering Rachel’s reaction that first night. “You don’t think we’re too old for this?”

  “Shelly, I carry tampons in my school backpack for you. We passed weird, like, five years ago.” He scooped up some of his laundry and paused to look at me. “You don’t think it’s weird, do you?”

  “Of course I don’t. It was just—I don’t know. Rachel seemed to think it was.”

  “Nah. She knows we’re not like that.”

  I pulled a face while I still had my back to him, not convinced. I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about I were in Rachel’s shoes, but—well, it was Lee. This was just how we were.