Beach

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The day dwindles down to where I'm sitting on the pier, smoking the last cigarette in my pack. My hair is contained in a braid and I watch people surf and sail on the water.

I jolt when a hand grabs my foot in the water, my eyes looking down and seeing Harry grinning widely at me.

"Why don't you come in?" he asks, my head shaking.

"Come on, Claire Bear. Please," he grins, my eyes rolling.

"Nope, so go away, Tarzan," I say, his body swimming to the side. He reaches and grabs the pier and lifts himself out, getting water on me in the process. I slap his arm and he laughs, shaking his hair out to make matters worse.

"Fuck off," I groan, his lips purple but he smiles at me.

"I was making you wet," he grins, my eyes rolling.

"You know, I want to teach you how to surf. Maybe it'll stop you from smoking," he tries, my head turning and blowing smoke in his face.

"Nope," I warn, his arm wrapping around me. He buries his face in my neck and starts to kiss, my eyes closing.

"What can we do tonight?" he asks, my body staying in his arms.

"I'm busy," I lie, trying to get the curly-haired boy away from me.

"No you're not. We're doing something," he says, my head shaking. "Come on. I want to do something with you."

"I don't want to go out," I say, his nose brushing my jaw.

"Who said we were going out?" he asks, my hand shoving him away.

He laughs and I roll my eyes, his arms moving around me. "I know you like it," he grins, my head shaking. But he lifts me into his lap and I look at him, his green eyes bright.

"So either you do something with me tonight, or I throw you into the water," he says, my eyes widening.

"No. That's the shittiest compromise," I say, not wanting to go into the water. I hate the water because of the memories here.

"Better pick," he says, my lips parting.

"Fuck you!" I yell, but then he throws me and I land in the water. I hear him jump in next to me and I surface, splashing water in his face.

"I hate you, you dickhead!" I yell, his arm hooking around my waist.

"No you don't," he grins, holding my body close.

"Now, since we're in the water," he smiles, my head shaking.

"Nope, I'm getting out."

"Claire, let me teach you how to surf. Please, and I won't bother you after that," he says, my eyes looking into his. I can see how genuine he is and I sigh out, trying to retaliate but nothing comes.

"Fine," I reply, his smile bright. We swim to the shore and I take off my shorts and shirt, standing in my underwear. Harry lends me a wetsuit and he puts his on, the two of us getting ready. He hands me a board and we walk to the water together.

He guides me on what to do and we surf for a while, but a particular wave hits and I'm knocked off the board and struggling to surface. Harry lifts me out of the water and sets me on the board, his eyes filled with concern.

"You alright?" he asks, my head nodding. He stays in the water, treading as he keeps his focus on me.

"My lungs burn," I explain, coughing after.

"Just keep coughing. It'll be alright," he says, wrapping his arms around me but keeps his body in the water.

"Let's get you to shore," he says, pushing my surfboard and his at the same time. We get to the sand and Harry helps me up, my muscles sore. But he lifts me into his arms and cradles my body to his back deck before setting me on the steps.

He brushes loose hairs back and holds my cheek, keeping his focus on me. "How are you feeling?" he asks, my eyes locking with his.

"I feel like shit," I mumble, his lips curving.

"Those waves are killer. Sorry you got the bad side," he says, my head nodding.

He keeps his eyes on me and I can tell he's thinking about something. "Thanks," I say, his head nodding.

I stand up and he does as well, looking into my eyes. But he grabs my cheeks and moves his head down, my eyes closing upon feeling his lips on mine. My stomach feels with butterflies and I kiss him back despite my constant irritation with his attempts. His lips are soft and move slowly, but passionately.

I grab his waist and he keeps our kiss going, my heart pounding. He moves his hands down and grabs mine, pulling away. I'm certain he grabbed my hands on the outside chance I'd leave him standing here.

Smart boy.

"Damn," he whispers, my eyes looking down. "Claire, please tell me you felt that."

I look up and I see he's desperate, trying to get me to feel something for him. He's probably had girlfriends and been in love with them, but I've never wanted to have that. Love was fucked up when I saw my dad with other women, and I refuse to subject myself to the hurt I saw my mother put herself through.

"What?" I ask, trying to recall what he said. I'm still feeling the warmth of his lips on mine and I'm trying to remember why I had held myself back.

But reality comes back when he smiles at me, my hands letting go of his. "You felt it," he grins, my waist taken in his hands.

"Stop. You're such a dick," I groan, his arms wrapping around me as I start to push him away.

"I can't believe this," he grins, holding me close but I try to push him away.

"I'm leaving. You're fucking creeping me out," I say, but he lifts me up and carries me back into his house.

"You can't leave. Not now," he says, my body laid down on his couch. He climbs on top of me and starts kissing my neck and cheeks. I feel so weird and I start to laugh at how crazy he is.

His arms wrap around me and he grins, my hands pushing at his chest.

"I-I have to take you out. We have to go on a date," he says, my eyes rolling.

"I've told you. It's not go-" but he cuts me off by pressing his lips on mine. I lose my train of thought and my hands grab his cheeks, his lips moving with mine so effortlessly, it makes me frustrated. But his kiss is good and I don't want to stop. I'm getting into uncharted territory and it scares me shitless. I just hope he doesn't fuck me over.

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