Page 34 of Sunset Catchers

“Sure. What did you have in mind?”

9

The Beach. That’s what Levi had in mind.

This place is unlike anything I thought I’d see on Canadian grounds. Admittedly, I haven’t seen much of it, but still, wow. Levi’s enthusiasm is vibrant.

“I’ve been here hundreds of times, and it never gets old,” he confesses.

The sun is surprisingly still bright, even with the day being more than halfway done for, leaving us to attend a meeting of expanses in different shades of blue: a cloud-free sky and an endless pool of clear freshwater lapping off in waves crashing over the white-sand beach.

All of this, I would’ve thought, could only be found in tropical places, definitely not in Ontario. It’s so beautiful. It’s no wonder why this became a primed vacation spot.

I look away from the water when I see Levi moving in my periphery. He keeps trying to get a towel to lay flat on the sand, but the wind keeps ruffling it away.

He glares at me when I laugh at his demise.

“Are you going to help or..” I take pity on him and grab the opposite corners to help. Once the striped towel is laid on the sand, we both put our bags on opposite sides and sit down side by side, facing the water. The heat from his body travels in the distance between us, warming me like a fleece-lined sweatshirt.

“I can’t believe you got to spend all of your summers here.”

“I can’t either. I’m very lucky.”

Unlike the first time he’d brought it up, I don’t feel the same coil of jealousy, and it’s a relief. I can’t spend the rest of my life perpetually antagonizing myself any time the mere mention of childhood is brought up.

My shoulders are sore; it’s a heavy load to carry.

I’m glad to see that Junie’s suggestions are working.

Hence now, I can comment on Levi’s situation without comparing it to my own. Wait. Is this how it feels to be somewhat emotionally stable?

Levi’s mouth parts. Then, closes. Open. Close. A real-life version of bubbling dots that never gets turned into a text message. His question finally comes out in staccato as if he’s thinking the words as he’s telling them.

“Do you like, to, err, swim?”

“You okay?”, I ask slowly. “Did your brain just glitch?”

“Fuck off,” he says chuckling, clears his throat and tries again. “So, swimming? Something you enjoy doing?”

Much smoother this time around.

“Of course. I’m a Cancer.”

“Okay..?”

“Cancer is a water sign.” Still nothing. Wow, okay. Someone doesn’t care about the stars, at all. “Yes. I love to swim,” I clarify. He shakes his head and mutters something I don’t catch under his breath.

“Do you enjoy swimming?”, I ask back.

“Yeah, I love it. My sister does too. My brother is the one that spent his days camped out in the sand.”

I bob my head. “My best friend Junie is more of a sand babe herself.”

“Sand babe? I don’t think that’s a thing people say.”

“Well, I say it. And I’m part of the people so…”. More head shakes. More chuckles.

“Should we dip our toes?”