His Tiny Dancer [COMPLETED]

XXXVIII

~Monday April 8th~

After a lunch of hamburgers and hotdogs that are being sold at a stand just past the sand, Noah and I spend the rest of the afternoon cycling between sunbathing on our towels, swimming in the ocean, playing badminton, and climbing on the rocks at the edges of the beach. I find that spending time with Noah keeps me constantly entertained, even when I normally would be searching for something new to do. Even sitting on the sand in silence is somehow intriguing as Noah's every little movement captures my attention, and every time his fingers reach for mine I can feel my heartbeat across my entire body.

Now Noah and I are laying on the sand again. The afternoon is slowly melting towards evening and most of the other families and groups that were here have left. Noah is sitting up and continues to read the book I brought while I am laying on my back, the sun warming my stomach as it slowly starts to fade.

"I'm hungry again," I state, sitting up.

"What do you want?" Noah asks, placing the book down on his lap.

"I don't know," I respond after thinking for a minute.

"Well I think we're pretty much done here, we can drive around a bit and see what's nearby," he suggests.

"That's a good idea," I say and begin to stand. Together we gather the things we brought and again Noah insists on taking my bag, even though I remind him that it barely even weighs a pound so I obviously could handle it on my own.

We hop back in his car and begin to drive around. We pass a seafood restaurant, but neither of us are all that interested. A fast food restaurant also doesn't earn our approval as that was what we had for lunch already. Next we come across a small ice cream stand.

"Ice cream?" I consider.

"Why not," Noah responds, turning off the road to park in front of the stand. "Who needs healthy, well-balanced meals, right?" He says, making me laugh softly. We order our cones and I'm impressed by how fast they're ready for us. Noah forces me to let him pay for me, even though he also paid for lunch. I try to argue that he also has to pay for gas money to drive me, but he shoots that down as well. I then go to my last resort and in a low voice bring up the fact that he's supporting himself and his sister all on his own, but he counters with the point that he isn't all alone, and one ice cream cone won't break the bank.

Once we have our cones we get back into his car. I assume we're just going to sit in the car until Noah finishes his, then drive home, but this thought is rejected when Noah asks me to hold his cone while he drives.

"Where are we going?" I ask curiously.

"You'll see," Noah responds, causing me to immediately groan.

"You know I hate this."

"That's why I do it. It's too easy," Noah responds with a laugh. I pout and decide that I'm not going to respond to him again until we reach our destination. This tactic is proven pointless when Noah doesn't make an attempt at conversation.

Noah turns into the parking lot of another beach, a different one from earlier today. This one as much less sand space, but just past the parking lot is a large pile of big rocks, and the whole space is completely deserted from other people. The amazing part - though - is the beautiful sunset colors smeared across the horizon of the ocean. Since Rhode Island is on the East coast the sun is not setting in front of us, but the colors caused by the setting sun behind our backs spreads all the way to the East.

"Wow," is all I have to say.

"Yeah," Noah responds, not doing a great job of hiding how proud of himself he is. "Come on," he says, taking back his cone and getting out of the car. I follow him out and towards the giant stones. We carefully pick our way towards a flat one, Noah holding my hand to steady me over tricky gaps. I think to myself about how I probably have better balance than him, but don't bring it up and ruin my opportunity to hold his hand.