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New Jersey
Tara and Keith walked along the shoreline. The two dogs—a Red Setter and a Collie—ran ahead of them. Keith bent and picked up a long piece of driftwood. Slinging his arm back, he threw the stick above the dogs' heads. It spiraled as it flew through the air. The dogs yipped excitedly and raced each other down the beach. Callie brought it back to Keith; Lassie ran at her heels.
White-capped waves rushed to the shore and retreated. Tara Stevens stopped, and the salt seawater covered her feet. She wore a blue and white striped bikini top and cut-off Daisy Duke shorts. Her feet were bare. Keith stood beside her, the slight wind ruffling his wavy black hair. His hand brushed hers, and then he quickly withdrew it. Tara glanced at him through shaded eyes.
Keith had grown tall during the summer months. His bronzed torso rose up from his rolled-up jeans. Tara noticed a tuft of hair growing around his belly button and a thin line on his chest. She thought he looked very handsome. Perhaps she hadn't noticed his good looks before. They lived next door to each other and grew up together.
Night crept closer to the shoreline, but it remained light enough for them to see. A lone star appeared near the horizon. They continued to walk, the unleashed dogs remaining a few steps ahead of them. Other than the young couple, the beach was deserted.
Yesterday, crowds covered the beach. One could barely step between folding beach chairs, colorful towels, and striped umbrellas. Following the holiday weekend, the tourists disappeared in a mass exodus. The Jersey Shore shut down after the last rays of summer sun faded on Labor Day. Only the locals remained to face the cold winters on Long Beach Island.
Tara and Keith breathed in their last moments of freedom. School began on Wednesday. This time, they would not attend the Island School. In the morning, they would stand on the Boulevard corner at the top of Fourteenth Street. The bus would pick them up and take them to the mainland middle school. Their first-day jitters remained a silent knowledge between them. Neither wished to speak about it. Instead, Tara shuffled her feet in the surf. Keith stood stoically beside her.
Lassie pushed her nose against Tara's palm. She absently stroked the dog's head. The Collie was her dog; the Setter belonged to Keith. Slowly, they walked on. Tara's shoulder nudged Keith's, and their hands nearly met again.
"Promise you'll go to all the school dances with me," Keith finally said. He kept his dark eyes in the distance as he spoke.
"I promise," Tara whispered. The sound of the surf lapping the shore made her response inaudible, so she repeated it a little louder.
"You'll…you'll meet new boys at the middle school," her companion stated, soft and low.
Tara rolled her shoulders. They would both meet new students during the first few days of school. She liked her old friends just fine. Growing up in a small community brought young people into a close-knit group. The Mainland kids thought the Island kids were snobby. It didn't make for a pleasant experience.
"I doubt it, Keith," Tara assured him. "You know what it's like over there. We're apparently too good for them."
"I suppose." Keith kicked up water with his bare feet.
The darkness crept a little closer to shore. A few more stars twinkled in the approaching night sky. Tara's companion took on a shadowy form beside her. She expected she looked the same to him. Still, it was comforting to know he was there. Tara reached out her hand, but Keith's remained elusive. She stretched her fingers, hoping he would take hold.
Her parents thought they made a cute couple. If Tara could choose anyone to become her first date, she would pick Keith. It seemed apparent to everyone who knew them. She dreamed of becoming Mrs. Lazlo in the future. They would marry after they graduated from high school. When she received her grade school yearbook, she drew a heart around Keith's photo and gazed at it tenderly each night before she fell asleep.
Tara walked backward in the surf. Her budding breasts poked against her skimpy bikini top. While she faced Keith, he strode forward purposefully. She did her best to keep at least two steps ahead of him. He bent for another piece of driftwood and threw it to the dogs. They ran madly after it.
"Someone left a beach towel." Tara ran toward the dunes and fetched it. "Finders keepers." She draped it over her shoulders, hiding her breasts.
"There's another one." Keith retrieved the floral towel and slung it over his shoulder. They discovered an abandoned bucket and shovel half-buried in the sand and one flip-flop.
"How can anyone lose one flip-flop?" Tara wondered, frowning. "It's no good without its mate." She tossed it into the surf. Lassie charged after it, bringing it back.
"It's no good, Lass," Keith stated, playing tug of war for the footwear. He finally grabbed it and slung it further than Tara could.
A wave caught the flip-flop, brought it close to shore, and then greedily took it back. The wave played with the shoe for several moments, bringing it up and swallowing it again. Tara and Keith watched it until they became bored. They walked away as the water gave up the game. The lone flip-flop remained on the wet sand, waiting for the play to begin again.
Time seemed to hold back its hand while the young couple strolled with their dogs. It was as though fate didn't want to rush their future. The last rays of light hovered in the sky, teasing the advancing night. Summer Magic, Tara called it. She felt fanciful—her mind full of adventure and romance. Before she went to bed, she would write about it in her diary. She had a way with words and could capture each magical moment. She would never share it, not even with Keith.
"I suppose we've walked far enough," Keith stated, halting opposite a street entrance.
Tara looked back the way they came. The beach stretched a long way, the surf meeting the white sand. She could walk for miles with Keith at her side—it didn't matter how long it took. Nevertheless, tomorrow was a school day. They would have to go home and prepare to face a new school and new students. Tara sighed audibly.
When she turned to plod toward the street, Tara nearly collided with Keith. Stretching out his fingers, his hands encircled her arms. He bent slightly, and his lips touched hers. It was only a butterfly kiss, soft and tender. Withdrawing, his eyes met hers. Tara breathed gently, and her lips parted half-invitingly. Keith bent again and kissed her. The kiss lasted longer than the first one.
Tara stood on tiptoes. Without realizing it, her arms encircled Keith's neck. He bent further toward her, deepening their embrace. Her lips parted a little more, then she caught her breath. The kiss turned more ardent; their tongues met and danced together. She closed her eyes and pressed closer to his awakening body.
The dogs sat side-by-side, patiently waiting. Lassie's tail beat against the sand; Callie lay down, stretching her long red body to its entire length. Finally, Tara and Keith parted. Keith leaned down to attach Callie's leash to her collar. Tara squatted and ruffled Lassie's brown and white fur and attached a lead.
Standing at the top of the dunes, the young people cast their eyes back along the beach. They would walk their dogs frequently after school until autumn turned to winter. They would return for a few more weeks of solitude in the spring. When summer began, the beach was too crowded for dog walking.
The dogs led the way to the Boulevard. The 5&10 stood to their left. It would remain open all year long. Across the street, shutters covered the garden center's windows. It was a summer store. Tara and Keith looked in the store window. A lone employee stood behind a cash register, looking at her watch. Otherwise, the 5&10 was deserted. They passed on, striding past the Food Mart. Several cars—all local—stood in the parking lot.
Like many other seasonal shops, the ice cream parlor was shuttered, but the drug and furniture stores operated twelve months a year. Tara and Keith continued to walk along the sidewalk. The dogs pulled at their leashes, eager to get home. Finally, they stopped on the corner of Fourteenth Street.
"Tomorrow will come too soon," Keith sighed. "We'll wait here for the bus."
Tara couldn't speak. A lump appeared in her throat. She tried to swallow it, but it wouldn't go down. She didn't want to think about tomorrow and middle school.
The taqueria's windows shone brightly. Keith's brother, Charles, grinned and waved at them from a table inside. Melinda Bates smiled at them. Tara's best friend's sister, Melinda, started dating Charles during the summer. Tara smiled back.
"Join us?" Charles asked, opening the door and leaning out.
Tara and Keith exchanged glances and then shook their heads. No. They continued to the corner of Thirteenth Street. The traffic light blinked yellow facing the Boulevard; red blinked toward Thirteenth. Looking both ways, they crossed over. It wasn't essential to take precautions—no cars were in sight. They looked out of habit.
The dogs and the couple crossed Central Avenue. Tara's house was three doors down between Central and Barnegat Avenue; Keith lived next door. Before they approached their homes, Keith raised his hand, halting Tara. They stopped in front of a darkened summer cottage. Embracing, they kissed out of sight of their houses. Then Tara ran ahead and turned into her driveway. She climbed the back porch steps and entered the house. Bending, she unleashed Lassie.
Her parents and brother were in the sunporch watching TV. Lassie entered and stretched out on the floor at her father's feet. Tara hesitated momentarily. Ordinarily, she would join her family. Instead, she rushed into her room and, turning on the light, took her diary out of the desk drawer. Picking up a pen, she placed it between her teeth and gnawed on it anxiously. A million thoughts raced through her mind. Where should she begin?
Staring dreamily through the window, Tara noticed Keith standing in the street—his form a shadow. Callie stood close beside him. Throwing open the window, she leaned out and waved. Keith lifted his hand, then disappeared. Tara sat at her desk and opened her diary. Words began to flow.
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