The summer air is sticky in that July way. It's too hot to be holding hands, but Zander and Stevie have never really learned the meaning of personal space. She reaches out to take a long, lingering lick of cherry popsicle, ignoring the blatant way his hand tightens around hers. She can feel the forefront of a blush rising on her skin, the creepy crawly schoolgirl feeling that still seems to accompany his glances. It's a little bit crazy- the way she still goes weak in the knees and gets that dopey, ridiculous smile when he talks to her. But Stevie has long since learned to ignore it. Zander calls it part of his charm. She calls it part of his idiocrasy.
The fireworks are effervescent against the dark hues of the night sky. When Stevie looks up, she can feel them lighting shadows across her cheekbones. Somewhere across the backyard, Kevin and Nelson are cheering, and Kacey is sneaking smiles. She leans down to tuck her head into the space where Zander's collar bone dips, exhaling calmly when he responds immediately. They've created a sort of relationship where the contact is almost second nature. Stevie has long since discovered the nooks and crannies of her body where her fingers fit perfectly on cold days when the wind makes her knuckles red. His warmth is radiating, glowing from his body. He's like a bright light, a beacon that miraculously allowed her to love him.
And at this moment, watching Fourth of July fireworks go off with a bang, ketchup still smeared on the corner of Zander's lips, Stevie couldn't be happier.