The beach is soft and white, burning underfoot. Cherry is down by the shore, right where the waves lap at the sand, and she's crouched down with her hands outstretched. A cockle shell is cradled in her hands. Her hair is pulled into a thick ponytail. Her hair basically glitters under the sunlight. You think she's beautiful. You want to kiss her.
Valerie is sitting beside you, all blonde and leggy and grumbling incessantly about the heat. She's fanning herself with the beachcomber's brochure you had insisted be bought from the nearby visitors centre. Cherry had been so excited with the prospect of collecting shells. You couldn't leave without it. Valerie pushes her sunglasses up on her head and leans forward, staring down at Cherry with a look of disbelief.
"Fuck, Marcia. How many shells is she going to take home?"
Valerie sounds mean, almost angry, but you know she's just bothered by the heat. She's never been one for heat. You giggle.
"I don't know. I think it's cute!"
She flicks her sunglasses back down onto her nose, and she scoffs. "Oh, of course you do."
Standing, Valerie brushes the sand off her bottom and then places her hands on her hips. She's pretty, model-like almost. You've known Valerie since she moved to Tulsa partway through your sophomore year. You know she's pretty. You've seen boys ask her out time and time again. You've seen her say no to them time and time again.
You've also seen her kiss girls behind the science block, and that's when it all made sense.
But if Valerie is pretty, then Cherry is beautiful.
"Hey," Valerie barks, although she must regret her tone, because her face twists into a frown and her tone softens. "Come on, Marcy. Let's go swim."
You almost want to tell her no, that you're fine sitting on the shore watching Cherry collect shells, but Valerie pulls you up by your hands and pulls you towards the swell of the waves. The two of you pass by Cherry, and she looks up, giving you a bright, kind smile that makes your legs feel all wobbly. You want to kiss her.
The water feels cold against your hot skin, but once you and Valerie are standing to your waist, you drop under the salty water. Everything feels so much cooler once you surface. Your dark hair sticks flatly to your freckled skin, directly in contrast to Valerie, who's pulling her long hair up, desperately trying not to get it wet.
"The water's nice, Val," you offer. She simply snorts.
"The seawater is going to kill my hair. I've spent too much on moisturiser to let some salt ruin everything I've worked so hard for!"
Just as Valerie finishes her sentence, someone splashes her. With a shriek, Valerie turns around, only to come face to face with Cherry, who is offering her a large, cheeky grin.
"Sherri Valance, I am going to kill you!" Valerie squeals, looking a lot like an angry drowned rat. Cherry only laughs, lurching away from the angry blonde.
You watch them, crouching, with water bumping against your chin, and you think. This beach trip had been Cherry's idea in the first place, always eager to adventure and find something fun to do. Cherry was popular, but so few people knew how she longed for excitement that your little country town couldn't offer. You loved that about her, so much. You loved that you were one of the few who knew this side of her. It made her feel like yours, even just a little. You loved that she called you first when she had gotten her new car and the idea for a beach trip. She was yours.
Cherry and Valerie make their way back to you, both of them wet. Valerie is taller than both you and Cherry. She can catch up quite easily with her stride. Valerie still looks upset, although Cherry paddles to you, gripping both of your shoulders as if to hide behind you.
"Be careful Marcy – Valerie's pissed!" Cherry's teasing voice comes softly, her lips barely brushing your ear.
"Of course I am!"
Cherry laughs again. It's like music to your ears. She doesn't let go of your shoulders.
Now resigned to the idea that she's already wet, Valerie floats on her back and sighs. "I guess the water is nice."
Cherry's hands finally leave your shoulders, but they find your hands instead. "Hey, Marcia. We should find some shells in the water!"
You nod, your cheeks flushing. Valerie doesn't seem to realise the two of you leaving her as you swim back to shallower water. The sand squishes between your toes. It feels nice.
"I read the brochure we got earlier," Cherry says, reaching down under the water to grab a handful of wet sand. "And it said that you can find conch shells in shallow water."
"Oh," you answer. You copy her movements and dig through the wet sand.
"Yeah. I'd like to take a conch shell home. It would look really nice on my dresser. I've found some cowrie shells."
Cherry talks about the shells as if it's the most important thing on the planet. Her dedication is endearing; she always finds joy in everything she does. It's maybe your favourite thing about her. Maybe, one day, she can feel that way towards you.
You scoop sand up, letting the lapping waves clean the sand, clearing the way for your handful of tiny shells. So far, no conch shells. Your hands hold a myriad of small snail shells. You smile softly. They're cute, you decide.
You reach down for another handful, and you feel something big and smooth. You brush the sand from it's lip, and you offer it to Cherry with a shy smile. "Is this a conch shell?"
Cherry looks to the shell, and she bursts into gleeful laughter. "Oh, yes! Gosh, and it's such a pretty shell too!"
You place it in her hands. "Take good care of it, okay?"
You're joking, but Cherry becomes solemn. "Yeah, I will. Thanks Marcy."
She leans towards you, placing another cowrie shell she's found in your left hand. "Thanks for being here with me."
There's no one around, so you kiss Cherry Valance under the warmth of the sun.