Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
PARKER
The cool air feels amazing on my cheeks. I stand on the docks in Fireweed Harbor and take a slow breath.
A few minutes later, I walk along the beach, idly kicking a rock. These days, my social life is pretty empty. In two days, I’m moving to Juneau. I’m going to miss my dad, but my dad is a big part of the reason I don’t have many friends because, well, that’s a long story.
Fresh out of juvenile detention, all I want is a chance to stay out of trouble. My probation officer has set me up with a job training program in Juneau. I’ll be volunteering at the local fire station and training to be a firefighter.
At the sound of footsteps behind me, I glance back to see a girl. Her dark hair is long and straight. It blows like a banner in the wind behind her. She laughs when a seal pokes its head out of the water and dives back under.
“You can’t catch me!” she calls.
I can’t stop the laugh that sputters out. She glances over to see me and stops in the sand before slapping her hand over her mouth.
“Don’t worry about me. Keep playing hide and seek with the seal,” I tease.
I’m drawn to her. Without thinking, I walk across the sand and pebble beach to stop a few feet away from her. “I’m Parker,” I say.
She blinks before her lips curl in a slow smile. “I’m—” There’s a long enough hesitation that I start to wonder. “Jane,” she says, almost a little too forcefully.
“Nice to meet you, Jane.” I hold my hand out.
She looks delighted as she smiles down at my hand, reaching out to clasp it and shake it slowly. “Nice to meet you, Parker.”
She’s so fresh and cute, I want to kiss her. I try to remember the last time I kissed a girl. I have to think a little harder than I would like. It was before detention when I had a girlfriend in high school named Sandra. We officially broke up when I got in trouble, for good reason.
Reluctantly, I release Jane’s hand and stuff both of mine in my pockets as I tip my head to the side. “Are you from here?”
Jane shakes her head, her hair swinging a little. “Just visiting.”
She doesn’t explain further. I don’t know why, but it feels like there’s more to it than that. I tell myself I’m a little crazy. Alaska is tourists galore in the summer, so it’s perfectly logical for someone to be visiting.
“What are you doing this afternoon?” I ask.
Jane’s smile is a little shy. “I’m walking on the beach. I have three hours of freedom. What are you doing?”
“I’m walking on the beach too.”
We stare at each other long enough it starts to feel awkward. I’m relieved when she asks, “Can we walk together?”
There’s something almost pure about Jane.
As if though the very idea of walking with someone on the beach is a novelty.
In my case, it is. Ever since I got out of detention, I’ve been walking on the beach every chance I get, but it’s always alone.
It’s just nice to walk. There’s something that feels so free about it.
I hope I never lose my appreciation of the small things. I didn’t realize how much I didn’t appreciate them until I had to spend time in detention all because I was a dumbass. Fortunately, Jane knows nothing about me. Otherwise, she might not want to walk with me.
We fall into step beside each other. It’s quiet at first. After a while, Jane nudges me with her elbow. “Tell me something about yourself.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, are you from here?” she presses.
I smile down at her. “Mostly. I grew up in Alaska. I’ve lived with my dad here, in Skagway, Juneau, and even up in Fairbanks.”
“Just you and your dad?”
Pain strums an old chord in my heart. “Yup. My mom is long gone,” I say. “It’s just me and my dad.” I clear my throat. “Where are you from?”
“Alaska,” she says simply.
A chuckle rustles in my throat. To some, that answer might not make sense, but if you’re from Alaska, it does. Alaska’s freaking huge, geographically speaking, but it’s small as far as the feeling of being from here. It’s wildness bonds you to each other.
“Anywhere specific in Alaska, or just the whole state?” I tease lightly.
She grins up at me. “I was born in Willow Brook, but I’ve lived all over. My parents have an RV, so we’re driving around Alaska this summer.”
Yet again, I have a feeling there are some big gaps in that description. There’s a powerful sense of loneliness emanating from her, and I don’t like it. She shouldn’t feel lonely, but then I know the feeling well.
“Well, that’s cool,” I say, keeping my tone casual. I can’t even wrap my brain around how I feel with her. There’s a sense of comfort I’ve never experienced this quickly. With anyone.
We walk for close to three hours. I take her along a trail nearby that leads to a waterfall that I used to go to when I was a little kid.
Just when I’ve lost track of time, she announces, “I have to go back.”
I don’t want her to go back, yet I know that’s not rational.
I look down at her, lost in the moment that stretches between us, shimmering and alive.
Her blue eyes are layered in color. Looking into them is like staring into the ocean when the sun filters through it.
I don’t realize I’ve taken a step closer and reached for her hand until I feel her fingers lace with mine.
A pink flush rises on her cheeks, and I notice the spray of freckles across her nose.
“I like you, Parker,” Jane says, her words coming out in a rush.
I take an unsteady breath. “I like you.” My voice almost sounds a little rusty, and I have to clear my throat.
She blinks up at me and takes another step, placing her palm on my chest. My heart kicks toward her touch.
“What if I want to see you again?” I hear myself asking.
I could swear there’s a sheen of tears in Jane’s eyes. “I wish,” she whispers. “But I don’t live here.”
I want to ask her for her phone number, but I don’t even have my own phone. As if she’s reading my mind, she says, “And I don’t have a phone. If I did, I’d give you my number.”
“It’s okay. I don’t have a phone either.”
I’m trying to tell myself I shouldn’t kiss her, but she startles me by leaning up and pressing her lips to mine. She jumps back quickly. “I probably shouldn’t have done that!”
“Don’t say that,” I tell her.
“If I’m never going to see you again, a kiss is a good memory,” she says softly.
“We could try again,” I say, my heart pounding so hard it hurts.
Jane blinks up at me before nodding. Time feels as if it’s moving in slow motion as I take a tiny step closer to her.
Her palm is still resting over my heart, and she slides an arm around my waist as I do the same.
I hold her gaze as I lower my head. I hear the echoing drumroll of my heartbeat, the rush of blood in my ears, and the distant screech of an eagle, followed by the chatter of a magpie.
There’s a splash in the water just as I bring my lips to Jane’s. She holds completely still for a moment before she lets out a soft sigh into our kiss. I can’t help myself and take the kiss deeper. I slide my tongue across the seam of her lips. She opens easily, her tongue gliding against mine.
I’m tumbling into this moment with her. My knees are almost wobbly by the time we break apart, both of us nearly desperate for air. Jane takes a shaky breath as my heart pounds against her palm.
“That was my first kiss,” she says. “Thank you for making it amazing.”
I feel small in this moment, as if I can’t quite rise to it.
The way it feels to stand here holding her, the way it feels to kiss her is all more than I ever could’ve imagined.
Jane feels good and pure. If she knew my story, she probably never would’ve spent these hours walking on the beach with me.
These hours will be a memory I tuck into my pocket and pull out on a bad day.
“You’re the first girl I’ve ever felt like this with,” I surprise myself by saying.
“I will not forget you, Parker. Maybe someday I’ll see you again.”
I walk with her back to the harbor. The last I see of her is when she presses her fingers to her lips and blows me a kiss.