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Fading Sand Castles

   As a child, my family vacationed in Florida every summer.  We stayed at the same condos, on the same beach, during the last week of July of every year.  This was a ritual my parents started before I was born.  It was a great place to be and some of the best memories of my life are from those vacations.

  One of the first summers I recall, I was playing in the surf.  I was taunting the waves and poking the jelly fish when they washed ashore.  I noticed a freckled faced, pig-tailed little girl intently building a sand castle.  I slowly made my over to her.  She was highly focused and didn't notice me.  I swung around to get in her field of view.  She never looked up.  I decided to break the ice and said, "I've been wading out really far and battling the waves."  She briefly glances up and then back to her architecture.  After a couple of moments she said, "I don't like to go into the water."  I said, "Oh.  That's OK.  Can I help you build your sand castle?"  She shrugged her freckled shoulders and threw me a small bucket.  We built one of the biggest sand castles ever made.  We both knew it had to be a record of some sort.  My mother eventually told me it was time to go.  I jumped up and said, "By the way, my name is Roman."  The little architect smiled, shielded the sun with her little hand, and said, "I'm Lindsay.  I'll be back tomorrow."  I smiled back and said, "Me too!  Let's play again."  She nodded.

   Lindsay and I played all week.  We had the best time.  Her parents talked a bit with my parents and discovered that they too vacationed at that spot nearly every year.  They thought it would be good to get Lindsay and I together again.  We were about seven or eight at that time and we were both "an only child".  So having a playmate took some of the play duties off our parents.  It worked out well.  For the next few summers, Lindsay and I were best friends for a week in July.  Lindsay's birthday was on the 29th, so we always got to end the week with a birthday party.  I loved those vacations.

   When we turned 13, our relationship started changing.  We no longer could occupy our time with sand castles alone.  We were more into books and music.  So, we came up with an idea.  We would both read a new book on the way to the beach.  Once we started vacation, we would swap books and read each others.  Then we would discuss them at length.  I was in awe of how smart Lindsay was.  We would also make mix tapes for each other to share our passion for music.  Inevitably, we would have four of the same songs, which always made us laugh.  I was keeping a secret though.  I was really into Lindsay.  I began noticing how pretty she was and how good she smelled.  I couldn't tell her because I was afraid she would think I was crazy.  I was just hoping her feelings would someday match mine. 

   The summer we turned 18 was a bad one.  Lindsay had a boyfriend and he came with her family.  His name was Cesar and I hated him.  It wasn't solely because he was dating Lindsay; although, that was part of it.  What I hated about him was how different Lindsay acted around him.  He was not the smartest guy and obviously did not share Lindsay's love of literature.  She acted as if this was OK.  I tried to talk to her one afternoon about a book I was reading.  Cesar interrupted and said, "Dude!  If I want to hear about fucking books, I'll go to summer school."  I looked at Lindsay and simply said, "Really?"  I walked off down the beach.  While I was fuming from the shear lunacy of that transaction, I saw a girl, under a beach umbrella, reading the very book I had mentioned to Lindsay.   I thought, "What the hell?"  I walked up to her and said, "I love that book.  Do you mind if I sit?"  The girl lowered her Wayfarers and said, "Not at all." The rest of the trip was spent by Lindsay and I looking ridiculous.  We tried hard to make each other jealous.  All we really did was make saying goodbye harder.

   The last evening of that trip I was walking alone on the beach towards the condo.  I saw Lindsay standing at the edge of the surf.  The sun was just going down.  The red, pink, and orange clouds settled on the edge of the horizon like a giant bed of fluffy, patchwork blankets.  The sun was slowly diving under the covers for a night of slumber.  It was beautiful, but not as beautiful as Lindsay looked was gazing at it.  I put my hand in the small of her back.  I said, "I'm so sorry this vacation got so messed up."  She tried in vain to stop a tear from rolling down her cheek.  She said with remorse, "No it's my fault.  My parents invited Cesar to come down because they thought that's what I wanted.  I should have told them no, but it was too late."  I gave her a confused look and said, "You didn't want your boyfriend to come with you?"  She laughed, "No.  Not really.  He's not even really my boyfriend.  I hang out with him because he knows all the cool people at school.  He hangs out with me because I help him with homework.  We have nothing in common."  I smiled and shook my head at her.  I brushed another tear away.  She smiled and said, "I must look awful.  I have been on the beach all day and haven't even brushed my hair."  I looked into her dark eyes and said, "You look amazing."  I leaned and kissed her.  Her lips were soft and warm.  I could taste the coconut from her sun screen and the salt from the ocean.  I thought it was the best thing I had ever tasted in my life.   

      

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