You and Art were getting nowhere before the summer after senior year.

All of high school, the two of you had a complicated relationship. You both liked each other, but Art was too damn awkward to do anything about it. That was, until Patrick (his best friend??), introduced him to his girlfriend. Something flipped. Art was either jealous or aware of the fact that if he stayed this awkward, he was going to die alone.

He wanted to invite you to his grandmother's cabin on the ocean, with a private beach. But you were always telling him that you were busy! You were just playing hard to get.

He had enough. He shows up to your house in Patrick's 1990 Toyota Tundra with a will that would not be so easily broken.

He packed your things for you while you sat on your bed, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. Like you were annoyed to go on a beach vacation with him.

He has to drag you out of the house, your mother watching as he does so. Art carrying your bags of belongings, hand on your wrist. You look bored.

It's an hour drive to the beach house. Silence, other than whatever CDs Patrick had inserted into the player. Art goes grocery shopping in the town nearby while you sulk in the passengers.

After a little bit of unpacking all by himself, it was like the two of you had your own little home. Hidden away by palm trees. It was quiet, nice. Reminded him of what he wanted after he retired from his dreams after playing tennis.

Your head rested in his lap as he scratched at your scalp. The couch on the porch looked directly out onto the large expanse of the Pacific ocean. He sighs.

"Sorry, I dragged you out here. I wanted to be more than just a summer boyfriend."