RACHEL

"AX! NO! THAT'S NOT FOOD!"

Jake's panicked voice slices through the moment like a bucket of ice water, snapping me out of the daze I'd been in. I blink, my thoughts still stuck on the feel of Marco's hands at my waist, the warmth of his touch, the way we were just about to—

Another shout. "Ax, put it down!" Jake sounds horrified.

Marco's laugh pulls me fully back to reality, light and easy as ever. "Let me guess," he says, still grinning, his hands not quite leaving my waist just yet. "Our boy found the remains of some poor fisherman's lunch. Or maybe a boot? Please tell me it's a boot."

"I—uh—" My words fail as I glance toward the shore, Jake's voice rising in frustration. My hands are still on Marco's chest. When did that happen? And why does it feel impossible to move them now? Heat rushes to my cheeks.

"Oh, no," Marco continues, shaking his head. "It's worse, isn't it? He's found, like, a fish carcass, hasn't he?" He's clearly enjoying this far too much.

"Sounds about right," I mutter, trying to focus on anything but the way his fingertips just graze my hip when he finally lets go. The loss of contact leaves me feeling unsteady for a second.

Jake's next yell confirms my fears. "AX, THAT'S A DIAPER! A DIRTY DIAPER!"

I stare at Marco, horrified. His eyes widen, and then his mouth curves into an unstoppable grin. "This," he says, turning toward the chaos, "is why Ax isn't allowed unsupervised trips to Taco Bell."

"Marco," I groan, but the way his laughter spills out makes it impossible not to crack a smile.

"We should probably go help before Jake has a heart attack," Marco says, his voice lower now, his brown eyes holding mine with a spark of mischief and something deeper. My pulse races.

"Right." I nod quickly, though neither of us actually moves for another second. Finally, Marco turns toward the shore, and I shake myself, forcing my focus elsewhere. Definitely not on the way our hands bump together as we walk back. The graze is electric—a fleeting touch that sends a tiny jolt up my arm, leaving a warmth that lingers far too long.

By the time we reach the scene, Ax is crouched in the sand, holding up what is, without question, the grossest, soggiest diaper I've ever seen. He looks genuinely curious as he examines it, like it's a priceless artifact from some ancient Earth civilization.

Cassie is crouched beside him, her voice soft but firm. "Ax, this isn't food. Humans don't eat this."

Ax tilts his head, his eyes swiveling toward her. "It is discarded with with other food. Is it not a free sample?"

"No!" Jake runs a hand through his hair, looking both exhausted and utterly appalled. "That's not how this works!"

Marco steps forward, his grin absolutely wicked. "Hey, Ax, you're in luck. I think there's chocolate in it." He nudges me lightly with his elbow, clearly waiting for a reaction.

I roll my eyes, but the corners of my mouth betray me, tugging into a grin. "You're disgusting," I mutter, though I can't help laughing as Cassie desperately tries to wrestle the diaper away. Ax holds it up triumphantly, like he's just discovered the meaning of life.

"This is mortifying," Jake mutters, rubbing his temples. "Can we get one day—just one day—without—"

[Without alien dumpster diving?] Tobias cuts in smoothly, perched on a nearby picnic table. [Sorry, man. Not on this planet.]

Poor Jake looks like he's about to lose it.

"Come on, Ax," Marco says, clapping him on the back. "Trust me, the boardwalk has better 'delicacies' than… whatever that is."

I chuckle as we start gathering our things, the surreal moment fading into the background. Marco's shoulder brushes mine as we walk, just a small, unintentional touch, but it sends a flicker of warmth through me. The thrill from earlier lingers, faint but stubborn, refusing to fade completely.

/

As we walk toward the boardwalk, the air fills with a mouthwatering blend of scents—fried dough, roasted corn, and the irresistible allure of street tacos. The lively atmosphere hums with laughter and chatter, a welcome distraction from the weight that's always pressing on us.

"Look at Ax," Cassie says, barely stifling a laugh as we watch him dive into the stack of tacos Jake just bought. He's practically bouncing on his feet, peppering us with questions about the ingredients, his eyes wide with wonder. "What is this spice? Spiiiiice. Ice. How does it achieve such a magnificent combination of flavors?"

I smile at Ax's enthusiasm, but my attention keeps drifting back to Marco.

I catch him looking at me as Jake and Cassie laugh at Ax's antics, his grin softer now, almost thoughtful. My pulse stumbles, and I quickly glance away, pretending to focus on Ax as he marvels over his taco like it's a work of art.

"Is this what humans call 'cuisine'? Zeeeen," Ax continues, holding a taco up like it's a trophy.

Marco's voice pulls me back. "Oh, it's more than cuisine, my friend. Tacos are life." He launches into a mock-serious explanation about the history of tacos, drawing a round of laughter.

I can't help but smile, enchanted by how easily he brings everyone together. Watching him, I feel a mix of admiration and something deeper, something I've been trying to ignore. The way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, the easy way he moves, the warmth radiating from him—it all makes my heart race.

Then I notice it again—Marco's gaze, lingering on me longer than necessary. He's not saying anything, but there's a spark in his eyes, something quiet and warm that makes my chest feel tight.

I quickly turn my focus back to Ax, who is now dissecting his taco with methodical precision. But it's no use—Marco's presence feels too close, his laughter too easy, his voice too magnetic.

For a moment, it feels like the weight of the world has been lifted, leaving only this fleeting, perfect slice of normalcy.

But then the familiar twinge of conflict stirs. I shouldn't let myself get lost in this, not when everything else—war, family, school—is pressing down on me. Can I even allow myself to feel this?

It's a question I don't have the answer to. Not today. Today is about fun, about laughter, about being together.

I see Cassie's eyes flit between us, a subtle, knowing smile tugging at her lips. A rush of heat floods my cheeks—does she see it? The connection I feel with Marco?

I focus on Ax's discovery of guacamole, but my thoughts drift back to Marco anyway, the spark between us lingering like a quiet undercurrent.

Then he catches my gaze again. This time, there's no looking away. For a brief second, the world around us fades, the sounds of the boardwalk softening into a distant hum. It's just him and me.

I glance down quickly, focusing on the food in front of me, but I can still feel his eyes on me.

"What do you think, Rach?" Marco's voice cuts through my reverie, smooth and inviting. "Is this street taco a solid five-star experience?"

I look up, my lips curving into a smile despite myself. "I think it might just be worth the hype," I say, keeping my tone light and playful even as my heart trips over itself with the weight of unspoken words.

As we keep chatting and laughing, I feel the connection between us pulsing just beneath the surface. Every glance, every shared joke, feels charged with something more. And with every moment that passes, I find myself wishing for more—more laughter, more closeness, more time like this.

For now, though, I let myself sink into the warmth of his presence, letting the weight of the world fade away, even if only for a little while.