Summer break felt both too long and too short at the same time.

As planned, Mark, Mary and Josie went to the beach, one beautifully warm day.

Mark’s driver went to their homes to pick them up, and after the initial shock of Mark actually having a private driver and car available, as well as the disappointment the driver didn’t wear a suit, nor sounded British, Mary calmed down a bit.

Once arriving at the beach, the driver said he would pick them up when Mark called, and off they went.

Josie wasn’t too happy about wet sand between her toes, so she had brought bath shoes with her, meant to prevent this. She had also brought a parasol, as she felt it was too warm, and she enjoyed being in the shadow a bit more.

Meanwhile, Mary stripped down to her bikini immediately after she saw the sand, threw her stuff at a random spot, and dove right in.

Mark had stopped in place, looking thoroughly confused and embarrassed, before he gathered his courage and stripped down to his bathing shorts and went in, too.

Then it was Mary’s turn to stop in place and look at him.

Really look at him, for the first time, she felt.

She had known he was in good shape. He basically didn’t do anything other than training when he wasn’t in class, and she couldn’t imagine he just stopped training at home. The thought of him sitting still made her so uncomfortable that she visibly shuddered.

“You okay?” Mark asked, seeing this, taking one step closer, but Mary took one step back, shaking her head up and down.

“I’m dime. Fine. Don’t come closer. I’m good. Perfect. Amazing.” Mary thought of more words she could say to indicate just how fine she was, but her eyes fell on him again, and suddenly all the words left her brain.

Mark returned the gaze and they stood like that, silently staring at each other, frozen in time.

“Mary, if you don’t close your mouth soon, a fish might jump into it,” Josie said, only now coming out and joining them in the water, making the time start up again.

“Someone is looking a lot,” she stated, grinning a bit.

“I’m not!” Both Mary and Mark said in unison, turning their heads and both looking at Josie, who was standing there with a big grin.

“Oh, my mistake,” she said, grinning even more, and then turning around.

“I really don’t like the sun,” she said, back turned. Mary couldn’t see Josie’s expression, so she couldn’t tell what exactly felt off about that moment, but something definitely did feel wrong.

Had it been the set of Josie’s shoulders? The tone of her voice? Had it been something so fragile and small that she only even noticed because it was Josie? Mary didn’t know, and she didn’t have time to think about it for very long, because just then, water swept over her.

She looked where it had come from, and there was Mark, looking innocently the other way, attempting to whistle, but just coming out with spittle noises.

“Youuuu!” Mary said, starting to whirl around, arms spread out, and splashing him back, but instead of the intended big whirlpool she was going for, her arms were grabbed by strong hands, stopped in their tracks. She felt a warmth, not her own, close to her. Body heat almost touching her.

So very close to her.

“Ceasefire?” Mark whispered into her ear, sending another shudder, a thrilling shudder, down her spine. She could do nothing but nod, her mind feeling muddled. 

Wrong. 

And then, the heat disappeared and the moment was over.

Mary was confused.

“I wouldn’t be able to win against you,” Mark said, sounding like he truly meant it.

Mary wanted to answer. To tell him how right he was or how nobody could beat her at anything, or how the only one scarier than her was Josie, but she couldn’t get a single word over her lips. Couldn’t get over what had just happened, whatever that was.

Instead, she tried to escape.

With one smooth movement she dived under the surface and swam out a bit further, each stroke taking her further away from Mark, and clearing her head up a bit.

And then she blushed.

She wasn’t stupid.

She knew what was happening.

But she also knew it couldn’t happen.

So… she denied it.

And when Mark came after her, because of course he did, she smiled at him, told him that she won the swimming contest, laughed when he complained he hadn’t known a swimming contest was even going on, and then told him to get ready for the rematch as she started to swim in again.

So she swam away from Mark.

Away from the realization she couldn’t afford to hold onto.

She swam towards land.

Towards the sand.

Towards Josie.

Once up on the beach, Mary sat beside Josie, who immediately hid away her sketchbook.

“Will I ever get to see your drawings?” Mary whined.

“When I’m a bit better…” Josie replied, closing the sketchbook so Mary couldn’t sneak a peek.

“You always say that…” Mary complained once again.

“It’s hard to get better. It’s like… I see something with my eyes, something that isn’t real, or maybe it is. And when I try to sketch it down, put it into concrete lines, the image suddenly gets blurry and disappears, and I end up with unsecure lines and a bad drawing.” Josie smiled sadly, “I just want you to see something I’m proud of.”

Mary understood that. She really did. And yet, it was hard for her that Josie had a thing that had grown to be such a big part of her, that she didn’t share with Mary, when Mary shared everything with Josie.

Or well.

Almost everything.

But she had decided to ignore it, so technically it didn’t count.

“I hope that one day the blurry and insecure lines will look beautiful to you,” Mary said, looking out at the ocean. Looking out at the waving boy in the waves.

Josie followed her gaze, then looked down at the closed sketchbook, then up at Mary, “Yea… I hope that too…”

Mark came up not long after, having gotten tired of playing alone in the water and asking if any of them would like to join.

Mary was about to say no, but Josie told her to go so she could draw in peace.

Mary wasn’t entirely sure if she should go or not, but Josie insisted and off Mark and Mary went.

Occasionally, Mary looked up at Josie, noticing the frustrated look in her eyes, how her brow furrowed in concentration, how she didn’t seem to enjoy drawing all that much, considering how much time she was spending on it.

Rather, it looked like drawing was hurting her, somehow.

It would feel frustrating, Mary thought, to spend so much time on something, but not feel like it was good enough to show anyone.

“Hey, Mark,” Mary said suddenly, stopping him in his tracks, “do you think Josie likes to draw?”

Mark looked up at Josie, probably seeing the same view as Mary.

“I think some part of her must like it. Or maybe the result will be worth the pain.”

Mary had no response to that.