should i be starting a new multi? no. am i sick minded? yes. this is inspired by (but not based on) 'all girls' by emily layden. i highly recommend checking out that book!

...

Between Memorial Day and Labor Day every summer, my family spends time at our beach house in Nantucket. This year, nothing is different - except that everything is.

It's the week before my senior year at Pratt School, the all-girls boarding school that I've been attending since I was a freshman. It's my second home, it's where all my friends are, and I can't wait to get back there.

But getting back there means leaving Nantucket, and I'm not quite ready to do that yet. Luckily, we have six days left on the island and I plan on soaking up every golden moment.

During these three months, I spend almost no time inside. I stop burning by early July when my skin realizes that it has to get used to the sun, and by late August, I'm sporting a summer tan that lasts through September. Blonde streaks show up in my red hair when the light hits it, and I'm covered in freckles. This is the one time out of the year where I don't feel self-conscious of how I look.

I leave the house in bikini tops and denim shorts almost every morning. I wear white eyelet dresses and crop tops. I know boys look at me, but most of the time I don't look back.

That is, until tonight on Miacomet Beach.

I'm only here because my best summer friend, Amelia, invited me to a bonfire that her brother and some of his friends are having. Most of them are from Sheffield Academy, which neighbors Pratt, so their faces aren't completely unfamiliar. I recognize all of them, except one boy wearing a red hoodie and board shorts, laughing on the sand with Derek.

"Who's that?" I ask Amelia, leaning on her shoulder. I'm in a sundress - my favorite one, patterned with strawberries - because it was humid when I left. This close to the water, though, the air is chilly. I wrap my arms around myself and wait for Amelia to answer.

"He came on the ferry with Derek yesterday," she tells me. "I guess they met at rugby camp."

"Where does he go to school?" I ask.

She shrugs. "I wasn't home when they got there. I don't know anything more than what my mom told me. I guess his name is Jackson, and he's from Boston."

I keep my eyes on Jackson from Boston for the next hour or so, but I can't work up the gumption to go and introduce myself. That feels so forced, and he hasn't even looked over once. Maybe he hasn't seen me, or maybe he doesn't even care.

I try to distract myself by talking to a bunch of other summer people that I know from years of coming here. The group includes a few of my older sister's friends, but she's in Michigan this summer - she didn't come home from Ann Arbor, where she goes to college, because she wanted to stay with her boyfriend. So, instead of me and Libby getting into trouble after our parents go to bed, I've been stuck babysitting Kimmie and Alice more nights than not. I won't complain to these girls, though, because they don't care. They miss Libby, and I do too.

Movement catches my eye a little while later, and I notice that Jackson, in his red sweatshirt, is gone. He's not sitting on the log by the fire anymore. I swivel at the waist, wondering where he went, and catch sight of him taking off his hoodie near the water.

In a hurry, I get up and trot over to him. He's ankle-deep in the water, headed out further, but I stop him before he can go further by shouting, "Hey!"

He freezes - I scared him. When he turns to look at me, I can't help but scan his sculpted chest and tight abs. I see a lot of shirtless boys every summer, but they don't usually look this good.

"What's up?" he says.

"You shouldn't go out there," I say. "It's not safe to swim at night, and this beach has a really strong current. It spikes up when you least expect it."

"It spikes, huh?"

"It does," I say. "You just don't swim at night on this beach."

I hug myself tight, cupping my opposite elbows, and tell myself that there's nothing more I can do. If he wants to swim, he's going to do it. Who am I to him? Some random girl who's bossing him around. He doesn't have to listen to me. He should, but he doesn't have to.

"Alright," he says, heading in and splashing up water as he goes. Some droplets land on my shins, and they're cold. "If you say so."

I exhale a sigh of relief and continue to watch him. He watches me, too, and runs his fingers through his thick, black curls.

"You cold?" he asks, then picks his hoodie up from where he discarded it on the sand.

"I didn't bring a jacket," I say.

"Here," he says, handing the sweatshirt over. "Take mine. I'm a human furnace."

"Oh, no, you don't have to do that," I say. "I can just go sit by the fire to warm up."

"You can do that, too," he says. "But only if you come and sit by me."

The next day, my mom lets me take the Jeep to Great Point Beach. I let a little air out of the tires before driving on the sand, and make sure to park it in a safe spot before locking it up and heading to the water.

I fan out my towel and strip off my cover-up, getting comfortable with the book that I brought. I'm wearing my blue bikini with the striped bottoms and halter strap, and I untie it to prevent tan lines while I lay on my stomach.

I'm about two chapters in when I hear voices coming up from the trail. I look over my shoulder, squinting against the sun, and see a group of boys heading towards the surf with surfboards and coolers in tow. I groan inwardly - I'd been enjoying the quiet, and they're going to ruin it with their roughhousing and loud boy behavior.

I try to ignore them, turning back to my book while willing them to set up camp a long ways away from me. They don't get too close, but I wish they'd park further than they do. Still, I do my best not to pay them any mind. If I have to put headphones in, I will. I just don't usually do that at the beach; I like hearing the wind and the waves.

A few minutes later, a column of shade obstructs the page I'd been scanning. Confused, I crane my neck and see that the source is no one other than Jackson from last night.

"Hey," he says.

I blink behind my sunglasses and say, "Hey."

"You were at the bonfire, right? Strawberry dress?"

"Yeah," I say. "Your sweatshirt's in my car."

He flashes me a heart-quickening, pulse-racing smile and says, "Keep it. I've got tons. Also, you never told me your name, strawberry dress."

We sat next to each other in front of the fire for a little while last night. Not long. Amelia kept shooting glances at me from across the way, and I felt awkward. I don't know Jackson, and everyone knew that. It was weird to be randomly sitting by a stranger.

I got the feeling that he would've made a move, though, had we not been surrounded by so many people. He never got the chance, though. The party, if you could call it that, broke up before midnight - which is good, because that's my curfew. He said goodbye with a smirk and a small lift of his hand, and Amelia grilled me for information the whole way home, but I had nothing much to give.

"I'm April," I say. "How come I've never seen you? I'm here every summer."

"It's my first time," he says. "Just here for a week with the Shepherds. Amelia… that's your bestie, right?"

I snort. It's funny to hear a guy my age say something like 'bestie.' "I guess," I say. "Kind of."

"Yeah, she's been talking about you."

"So, does that mean you already knew my name?" I ask. "And you just wanted an excuse to come over here?"

He laughs, his pretty white teeth glinting in the sunlight. "Maybe," he says. "You should come hang with us. We brought tons of food, and I can teach you how to surf."

"I've been swimming since before I could walk," I say. "And you think I don't know how to surf?"

He laughs and says, "Alright, strawberry dress. Prove it."

I move to get up from where I lie on my stomach, forgetting that the neck of my bikini isn't tied. As I lift onto my knees, the top falls and exposes my chest - it's just for a fleeting moment, but I catch his eyes there as I fumble to cover myself and retie the string.

"I didn't see anything," he says quickly, turning away a second too late. "I swear."

My cheeks flash as red as the sunburn I had back in June. I know he's lying for my sake, and I appreciate it, but it doesn't make this any less mortifying.

"I forgot that it… I was tanning… I didn't realize that the string was…"

"No big," he says, still awkwardly half-turned away. "You good?"

I make sure to tie a double knot, and I stand up only after everything is secure. "Yeah," I say, dusting myself off. "Let me show you how it's done."

He grabs me a board and I'm confident enough heading into the water, but I exaggerated a little. What I can do isn't really considered surfing. When I try to stand up, I wobble and end up falling face-first into the water, sputtering while wiping saltwater out of my eyes.

Jackson laughs at me, but not meanly. "Yeah, I can see you're a real pro," he says.

"I'm better at bodyboarding," I grumble, flicking wet hair out of my face.

"With surfing, it's all about posture," he says. "Plant your feet, bend your knees, suck your belly in, and put your shoulders back. Tell that wave who's boss."

I try to copy his example, and he stands behind me to help.

"Shoulders back," he says, hands ghosting over my bare skin. "There you go." He skims his fingers down my arms until they reach my hands, and he flattens them over his. "Good," he says, then moves to my stomach, pressing a gentle hand just beneath the shelf of my ribs. "Belly tight," he says, and I hear him smile. "Just like that. Perfect."

"Yo, Avery!" someone shouts, and Jackson and I both flinch with surprise. He turns around, clearly annoyed, and I see that it's Owen talking. Owen is a summer person, too. "What are you trying to fuck with Karev's girl for?"

"Shut up, Owen," I snap.

Jackson takes a step away and looks at me warily. "I didn't know…" he begins, but I stop him.

"I'm not," I say. "Me and Alex broke up in May. They're just used to seeing me with him. They're too stupid-" I cast a pointed look at Owen when I say that. "To get it through their heads that I'm single now."

"Oh," Jackson says.

I can imagine how he feels - thrust into this world where things happen at warp speed, all this teenage drama encapsulated in three short months. That's how it is for those of us who don't see each other at school. People like Owen and Amelia, who I only see for a fourth of the year, only know a certain version of me. Alex's version - and that April doesn't exist anymore.

"I'm single," I say. "I promise."

It's hard to shake the feeling of the guys' eyes on us, so we pull apart. The mood is broken and ruined. I wish it weren't, because I like spending time with Jackson. Being physically close to him isn't bad, either.

"I think some people will be at 40th Pole tonight at sunset," I say. "If you wanna come."

"40th Pole?"

I smile and touch his wrist - a small gesture that I hope he notices. "Another beach," I say. "It's basically all we do here."

"Oh, okay," he says. "And you'll be there?"

"Yeah," I say. "Will you come?"

"Hell yeah," he says. "I'll look for you."

If my strawberry sundress weren't in the laundry, I'd wear it to 40th Pole tonight. But it is, so I throw on one with spaghetti straps that's patterned with sunflowers. I work painstakingly on my hair - it hasn't laid right for weeks because I need a back-to-school haircut - and end up tying it half back with my favorite barrette that has a tiny bumblebee on it.

Even though we're only going to the beach, I work hard on my makeup too. I'm shooting for a natural look; the kind that'll make Jackson think I'm not wearing any makeup at all.

Because I'm being honest with myself, I can admit that all of this effort is for him. If he weren't going to be there, I probably would've just thrown on a hoodie and shorts. But he is, so everything feels different.

"Why are you so fancy?" my little sister, Kimmie, asks. She's twelve and an absolute menace.

"I'm going to a party," I say.

"Mom! April is going to a party," she says, knees pulled up to her chin where she sits on the couch.

Alice is on the floor with a pacifier in her mouth, even though she's too old for one. Every time Mom tries to take it from her, she just finds a new one. She's three.

"I wanna come," she says, reaching for me.

"Sorry, Ali-cat," I say. "Big girls only."

"More like big sluts only," Kimmie says.

"Excuse you, young lady," Mom says, raising her eyebrows at the tween on the couch as she comes around the corner. "April, you look nice. Have fun."

"Not too much, please," Dad says from the kitchen.

I roll my eyes lightly and say, "I'll be back by curfew."

I take the Jeep to the beach, realizing once I'm halfway there that Jackson's hoodie is still on the seat next to me. He told me I could keep it, but I'm not sure if I'll take him up on that or not. I think tonight will probably be my deciding factor.

I park by the water and get out, looking around to see who's here. I know pretty much everyone, but I couldn't care less about them.

"Hey," I hear from over my shoulder. "Lookin' for me?"

I jump and spin around, surprised and so happy that Jackson came. "You made it," I say, and he hugs me for the first time.

Wrapped in his arms, I feel so tiny and protected that it makes me giddy. It's all I can do not to squeal like an idiot. I keep it together, though, but the wild smile painted on my face after we pull apart might give me away a little.

"Sunflowers today, huh?" he says, then touches my barrette. "And a little bee."

"My strawberry dress was in the wash," I say. "Are you sad?"

"So sad," he says.

"I'm really glad you came," I say, looking at him with what I can tell are googly eyes. I can't help it. I've never had a crush like this before - so out of control and free. This is what everyone dreams of for their last week of summer before their senior year, isn't it? Some whirlwind romance with a handsome stranger? I'm getting it. I never get stuff like this, and I'm getting his eyes on me. I can barely believe it.

"I wouldn't miss this," he says.

"You're not sick of all these beaches by now?"

He shakes his head and looks out towards the ocean. "Nah," he says. Then, he turns to me. "Not if you're at 'em."

I blush and don't bother to hide it. I think I want him to see. I want him to know that I like him - which I've never experienced before. In the past, crushes have always been something to whisper about with my girlfriends and keep a secret. But I want to shout this one from the rooftops.

I like him! I really, really like him! I'm crazy because I met him a day ago, but I like him!

And I think he likes me back.

"Should we walk?" he asks, gesturing towards the water.

"Sure."

We walk along the shoreline as the sun begins to dip below the water. I can hear laughter from the main group of people by the firepit, but it only lingers in the back of my mind. Jackson takes up most of my thoughts.

"So, you're from Boston?" I ask. I left my shoes in the Jeep, and so did he. We're both walking close enough to the water so the waves splash over our feet with every other step.

"Born and raised," he says. "How'd you know?"

"Amelia," I say.

"Ah, the bestie."

"How do you know Derek?" I ask, even though I kind of already know.

"Rugby camp," he says. "He's cool; we hit it off. He invited me up for this week and I'd be dumb to say no to Nantucket."

I smile at him, eyes shining. "I'm glad you said yes," I say.

In a soft, fluid motion, he takes my hand. I intertwine our fingers and feel heat rush through my entire body; I think my heart might actually be beating outside of my chest. A quiet burst of air escapes my parted lips, and I glance over to see that he's grinning too.

"April, I gotta tell you something," he says, and my gut turns to lead.

This is when it happens. He'll come clean and tell me that he has a girlfriend, probably long-term, and they're super in love and I'm just a stupid dumb idiot for thinking that he could have feelings for me. He's entertaining me because he thinks it's funny. Or because Derek dared him to, or something else sadistic like that.

I try to pull my hand away in order to prepare myself for how this will sting, but he doesn't let me. He holds onto my fingers and that surprises me, so I meet his eyes with alarm.

"I think you're so hot," he says, the words flowing from his lips like honey. "And beautiful. And just...god, you're so hot."

If I thought heat was flowing through me before, that was nothing compared to what I feel now. I can barely catch my breath. I've been told that I'm beautiful before, but never by someone with the look in their eyes that Jackson has right now - a look that's both intoxicated and intoxicating.

I have no choice but to kiss him. And he kisses me back.

I stand on my tiptoes and wrap my arms around his neck and he keeps his low on my waist, pulling me in so our torsos press against each other. I close my eyes and he slips his tongue in my mouth, which makes a small, salacious sound come from me that I never knew I was capable of making.

I've never felt like this before. I've had one serious boyfriend - Alex - and we used to make out, but it was nothing like this. This is like being drowned in hot lava, and I just want more and more of it. I can't think about anything else other than the way Jackson's lips feel on mine, the way his hands map my hips and my back, and how it feels to have my breasts pressed against the firm muscles of his chest.

He doubles up his arms around my middle and tugs me even closer, which makes us both smile. Our teeth click together and he moves to kiss my jaw, my ear, and the side of my neck - until I can barely take it. This all feels so good, I swear nothing has ever felt this good.

"I can't stop thinking about you," he says. "Ever since I saw you at the bonfire. I can't…"

"I know," I say, skimming my fingertips down the backs of his arms. "I know, me too."

He kisses the round of my shoulder next to the strap of my dress, and rests his lips there. "April, I want you," he mutters, mouth moving against me.

It takes me a second to realize what he means. But when I do, it clicks into place that I want him, too. Like that. I don't want to wait or make it special or anything hokey, because I'm too turned on to think straight. Maybe I would want those things if I weren't about to burst out of my skin, but for now none of it matters. I just want to have sex with him.

"Me, too," I sigh.

"You do?"

I nod feverishly, then glance over my shoulder to where the rest of the partygoers still are. The sun has set, so they probably can't see me looking at them - which is good.

"There's a spot over here," I say, taking his hand and dragging him along behind me.

"In your car?"

"No!" I say, laughing. "That's my mom's car. That would be so super gross."

He laughs, too, and keeps pace with me as we move further away from the group and into the knee-high beach grass. Once we can't hear voices from the bonfire anymore, not even a stray laugh, it's clear that we're far enough away.

He sits down on the sand and gently pulls me onto his lap. I straddle his hips, the warmth between mine resting directly on top of the bulge between his.

"You are so fucking hot," he says, running his hands up my back and making the fabric of my dress ripple.

I kiss him hard, holding his head in my hands, and start to move my hips slowly. I don't exactly know what I'm doing, but I know it feels good and that's enough for me.

He moans and holds me tighter, opening his mouth on my chest to run his tongue along the swells of my breasts. I don't have much in the chest department, but when he grabs them from below and squeezes them together, there's plenty for him to get his lips on.

I keep my hips moving without realizing how roughly I've begun to hump him. I have an end goal in mind now and I'm so close that I can taste it - I know we're both still dressed, but I don't want to back away from this feeling. He grabs my butt tight after letting go of my boobs and yanks me forward faster, angling his hips up as he does, and I have a silent orgasm on top of him as my body twitches and jerks in all sorts of strange ways.

"Oh my god," he groans, hurriedly unzipping his pants and shoving them down as far as they need to go. "You're so… oh my god."

I whimper, eyebrows tilted up and together, and lift onto my knees so I can move my damp underwear to one side. "I'm on birth control," I say, still coming down. "And I'm clean."

I don't tell him I'm a virgin, because right now I don't feel like one. I feel like the hottest girl on the face of this planet and I love it.

"Me, too," he says, and flips us over so I'm lying on my back. "Easier this way," he tells me.

"Uh-huh."

I take my underwear all the way off and spread my thighs for him, lifting my skirt to rest around my waist as I do. I watch him guide his way inside me, and his eyes roll to the back of his head once he's buried all the way.

For me, it doesn't feel that good but it doesn't feel bad either. I'm still wet from before, which helps, and seeing him like this is turning me on too. Knowing that I'm the one who's making him feel like this is crazy. I can see why everyone raves about sex now. I don't know if I'll ever think about anything else.

"Fuck, you feel good," he grunts, hips moving in an unconfined, disjointed manner. "I'm not gonna - oh, shit."

I feel it happen just as he realizes that he's coming. He barely thrusts three times before his body starts to spasm, elbows going weak as his weight collapses on top of me and his hips undulate madly against mine.

Once his orgasm is over, he lifts his head and looks at me with cloudy eyes. "I'm sorry," he says. "That was awful."

"No, it wasn't," I say, smiling as he pulls out. I reach for my underwear and he tucks himself back inside his shorts.

"Did you… um, did you like it?"

I crawl over to where he's sitting, looking self-conscious and embarrassed on the sand. I wrap my arms around his shoulders from the side and kiss his cheek. "I loved it," I say, then press my forehead to his temple.

He turns his head and a wild smile grows on his face when he says, "God, you're amazing."

The next day, I sleep in until noon and wake up to a text from Jackson.

hey beautiful i wanna buy u ice cream. wanna go to the juice bar?

I notice that it was sent over three hours ago, so I hurry to type a response.

yessssss! sorry i slept in sooooooo late. just gotta shower and ill meet u there 3

I take the fastest shower of my life and bump into Kimmie on the way out. "Geez, watch where you're going," she says, glowering as usual. "Slow down."

"Sorry," I say, throwing the word over my shoulder as I head back to my room in a towel.

"Where are you going?" she asks. "I'm bored. Take me."

"No," I say, rifling through my closet as she lingers in the doorway.

"Why not?!" she says, that all-too-familiar tone present in her voice. "Because you're going on a date, or something?"

"Maybe," I say.

"I'm telling Mom."

"Go ahead, tattletale," I say, rolling my eyes as I pull on a pair of underwear and a bra. I toss my wet towel at her, but she dodges it. "Be the big baby that you are."

Her eyes widen as she comes closer to me. "I know what that is," she says, pointing to the mark on my neck that I'd been admiring just moments ago in the bathroom mirror. "That's a hickey. You are going to meet a boy!"

"I didn't say that I wasn't."

"Is it Alex?"

"No."

"Who is he?"

I shrug one shoulder and find my favorite pair of denim shorts and a cropped striped t-shirt.

"You have to tell me!"

"Later," I say, whisking past her. "Right now, I'm late to see him."

I ride my bike to The Juice Bar with a smile on my face the entire trip. When I get there, Jackson is waiting on a bench outside, and he lights up when he sees me. I practically throw my bike to the ground because I'm so excited to get off of it, and I run over to him so he can envelop me in a big, tight hug.

"I missed you," I say, my voice squeezed against him.

"I missed you," he says. "I was waiting and waiting for you to text me back. You left me hanging."

"Well, you tired me out," I say coyly.

He shoots me a half-smile, then opens the door to The Juice Bar for me. We decide to order a triple and split it - cookie dough, which is both of our favorites. Jackson insists on paying even though I brought my wallet, and afterwards, we head to the same bench that he'd been sitting on earlier to enjoy our ice cream.

We sit pressed right up against each other, shoulder-to-shoulder and hip-to-hip. He uses one hand to hold the ice cream cone and rests the other on my thigh, and I wrap my fingers around his hand that's on my leg. I can't stop touching him, and I don't want to. I think I finally know what it's like to be obsessed with someone.

"Isn't this the best ice cream you've ever had?" I ask, taking a lick.

He watches me, then kisses the corner of my mouth. "Tastes better off your face," he says, and I giggle and scrunch up my nose. I kiss him when he takes a bite and hold his cheeks in my hands after, pressing the tip of my nose to his.

Because we're all wrapped up in each other, we don't hear Alex coming. I only notice that he's in front of us when I hear his voice.

"Lovebirds. Freaking adorable," he says.

I don't move away from Jackson, but I do turn my head. He keeps his hand on my thigh and I wrap my arm around his, glaring at Alex with narrowed eyes.

"What do you want?" I ask. Not meanly, but not nicely either.

"Just came to say congratulations," he says, spitting out the words like they taste bad. "You finally gave it up. Not to me, who you dated for almost a year. Oh, no. But to some stranger you met on the beach? Sure! Take it! Take my precious little virginity."

My world stops. Until now, as far as I was concerned, no one but me and Jackson knew about last night. No one saw us do it, and no one saw us leave. I'm sure of it. The only way for Alex to know is if Derek told him, and the only way for Derek to know would be if Jackson told him.

I turn to the boy beside me and realize that Alex is right; he is a stranger.

"How could you?" I ask. My throat clogs up and my eyes get hot - I'm going to cry soon. "Why would you go and tell everyone? Do you know how horrible that is?"

"What?" he says, playing dumb.

"Whatever," I say, standing up to leave him on the bench.

"Wait!" he says, moving to chase after me.

I head to my bike and pick it up, though I'm not sure how well this ride home will go seeing as I can barely see through my teary eyes. "I said whatever, Jackson!"

I don't look back to see if he's following me, but I hope that he's not. I bike as fast as I can out of town towards our beach house, and throw my bike into the yard once I get there.

I storm through the front door to find Kimmie in the living room, looking shocked at my state of affairs. "Whoa… what's wrong?" she asks with wide eyes.

"I hate boys!" I shout, stomping up the stairs. "I'm never going to talk to one for the rest of my life."

It should be easy enough to hold onto that promise. In two weeks, I'm heading to upstate New York to Pratt - my all-girls boarding school - where I can't wait to not see Jackson, or any boy, for the rest of the year.