this august
"Out of everyone I ever met at Finch, you're my favourite. I thought I was yours, too."
I can't help myself when I blurt, "You are."
Jeremiah settles in some more, the sand beneath him softly shuffling. "Good."
We don't talk after that and end up falling asleep on the beach, only to scramble up in the morning, laughing to ourselves as we head inside to wash up, feeling like little kids who have so much to look forward to. The funny thing is, I think we really do.










