The Summer of Summers

It was close to midnight and I was at the beach. The water was warm, the air cool. The waves were lazy and bit at my knees as I waded. I was wearing ripped denim shorts and my bikini top. The wind played with my hair, and my eyes burnt from the salty water, I had to squint which gave me a headache. As I walked, my feet sunk into the sand and I could feel small fish swim past me.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

My head whipped around and a boy stood there in jeans and a white t-shirt with a red zip up over it. His hair was brown and incredibly messy. He was tan, you could tell he must live here year round, or he must have been here for awhile.

"Probably." I answered. My heart was settling from the fright he gave me.

The boy sat down near the water, "Probably," he repeated. I nodded awkwardly and walked out of the water and over to my stuff which was dangerously close to the tide. I threw on my shirt and wiped my calves off with my towel which was covered in sand. I glanced over at the boy and he was just staring out at the ocean, looking as if he was concentrating hard. Weird, I thought.

I gathered my things in my arms, shouldered my bag, and coughed a little, "Well, goodnight." I said.

Without looking at me he mumbled, "Sleep well."

I turned on my heels and headed back to my house which was only a few yards away. When I had gotten to my front door I looked back to see if he was still there. And he was. His face expressionless as he stared out at the water.