The Moment I Knew
That One Summer
It was every summer, usually a few days after June’s start, that Mom, Sarah, and Ashlyn would drive me to the airport on an early Portland-morning to say goodbye for the next month. The short-term goodbyes were always bittersweet, for I left behind my beloved stepsiblings to see my dad, who I only saw once a year. My dad however wasn’t the only person I seldom saw; There was Preston too.
Mom and dad divorced when I was six years old. I never knew exactly why, because they never seemed to fight often. But life only seemed slightly more different once dad moved away to Hawaii and mom took control of everything. When I was nine, I started visiting dad every summer at his beach-cottage right outside a small city called Waimanalo. It was a beautiful house, with a spectacular view of clear, Hawaiian beach shared with our neighbors, Mrs. Amy and her son, Preston.
Preston was my age, older by only a few months. His tan skin was a contrast to his sandy blonde cut. He even had a few freckles on his face, which I assumed were from being in the sun so often. Preston and I remained friends only through the summers, building outdoor forts and pretending to look for “treasures” in the sand. Our friendship had a slight twist when we came of a certain age, about twelve. Once we both had our own cell phones and Facebook accounts, friendship was no longer annual. We’d communicate ever possible chance, continuing have a strong bond when reunited every summer.
Every year, his skin glowed more. His jaw line sharpened. His hair grew into a surfer-like style, and I began to realize how attractive he actually was. I mean, I noticed a few facial and bodily changes in myself as years increased. But the thought of seeing him for more than his qualities of a friend submersed my mind like a sinking boat. Was I starting to have… an attraction to him?!
One of the most recent summers, the first initial sight I had of him gave me small butterflies, maybe one or two fluttering around. “Hazel! Nice see’n you again!” He smiled, his embrace as comforting as the crashing waves at night. Just a simple greeting from him enlightened me to a powerful extent. Such reactions of mine led up to our plans of that day, what I almost feared the most.
The two of us followed usual traditions, such as surfing (which I got better at every year), building sandcastles outside each other’s houses, and climbing the trees of the surrounding area.
When every memorable activity the two of us shared was accomplished, we found ourselves sitting on the sand against the side of my house when everything started, first with his words.
“You know, I really am glad to see you again. Every summer, I kind of miss you more and more…”
I knew he meant it as way of friendship, I just wasn’t sure on what level.
“…Same here.” I managed to choke out, dumbfounded. “ … You’ve kind of become a really important part of my life lately.”
He came to release many words and thoughts on how he loved me, as a friend and more as I sat absorbing every word. With that, he leaned in with his arms around me, planting a soft kiss on my lightly tanned cheekbone. The simple action caused my heart to explode into pieces and fall into the waters nearby.
Preston and I knew for a sure fact that things wouldn’t work out for us for a while. It was almost like my father, and how I saw him only once a year. But as long the the exploded pieces of my heart lay at the bottom of that Pacific beach, I knew I’d always be with the both of them.
Mom and dad divorced when I was six years old. I never knew exactly why, because they never seemed to fight often. But life only seemed slightly more different once dad moved away to Hawaii and mom took control of everything. When I was nine, I started visiting dad every summer at his beach-cottage right outside a small city called Waimanalo. It was a beautiful house, with a spectacular view of clear, Hawaiian beach shared with our neighbors, Mrs. Amy and her son, Preston.
Preston was my age, older by only a few months. His tan skin was a contrast to his sandy blonde cut. He even had a few freckles on his face, which I assumed were from being in the sun so often. Preston and I remained friends only through the summers, building outdoor forts and pretending to look for “treasures” in the sand. Our friendship had a slight twist when we came of a certain age, about twelve. Once we both had our own cell phones and Facebook accounts, friendship was no longer annual. We’d communicate ever possible chance, continuing have a strong bond when reunited every summer.
Every year, his skin glowed more. His jaw line sharpened. His hair grew into a surfer-like style, and I began to realize how attractive he actually was. I mean, I noticed a few facial and bodily changes in myself as years increased. But the thought of seeing him for more than his qualities of a friend submersed my mind like a sinking boat. Was I starting to have… an attraction to him?!
One of the most recent summers, the first initial sight I had of him gave me small butterflies, maybe one or two fluttering around. “Hazel! Nice see’n you again!” He smiled, his embrace as comforting as the crashing waves at night. Just a simple greeting from him enlightened me to a powerful extent. Such reactions of mine led up to our plans of that day, what I almost feared the most.
The two of us followed usual traditions, such as surfing (which I got better at every year), building sandcastles outside each other’s houses, and climbing the trees of the surrounding area.
When every memorable activity the two of us shared was accomplished, we found ourselves sitting on the sand against the side of my house when everything started, first with his words.
“You know, I really am glad to see you again. Every summer, I kind of miss you more and more…”
I knew he meant it as way of friendship, I just wasn’t sure on what level.
“…Same here.” I managed to choke out, dumbfounded. “ … You’ve kind of become a really important part of my life lately.”
He came to release many words and thoughts on how he loved me, as a friend and more as I sat absorbing every word. With that, he leaned in with his arms around me, planting a soft kiss on my lightly tanned cheekbone. The simple action caused my heart to explode into pieces and fall into the waters nearby.
Preston and I knew for a sure fact that things wouldn’t work out for us for a while. It was almost like my father, and how I saw him only once a year. But as long the the exploded pieces of my heart lay at the bottom of that Pacific beach, I knew I’d always be with the both of them.