Until We Meet Again

He puts his hand on my back. “Cassandra, can you forgive

me? If I’d known, I never would have suggested that we—”

“Don’t apologize. The waves were stronger than I thought,

that’s all.”

“But I am sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Lawrence.”

He sighs. “Well, I feel awful grummy about it anyhow.”

This makes me smile. “You say the weirdest words.”

The corner of his mouth turns up. “You’re one to talk.”

I bump him with my shoulder, and we both laugh.

We’re sitting close. Little more than a few inches apart. The

impulse to scoot closer and rest my head on his shoulder tugs

at me, but I resist. I wonder if he’s thinking what I’m thinking:

that we’ve run out of scientific reasons to stay on the beach.

It’s clear—there’s no way around it. This beach and this beach

alone is where our worlds overlap. So, what now?

Lawrence draws a line in the sand with his finger. “So I guess

the day’s over.”

I swallow hard. “Yeah, it is.”

“And we know all we can know about…this.” He motions to

me and the beach.

“I suppose so.”

“I don’t know what to make of it,” he says with a sigh. “I really

don’t. What does it mean? Why did this happen? What are we

supposed to do about it? Maybe we should tell someone.”

“And who would believe us?”

“We can prove it. We’ll show them how you disappear on

the path.”

I imagine myself telling Mom or Jade. How could that possibly go well? “I don’t know,” I say.” That seems like a bad idea.

I say we keep it to ourselves for now.”

Lawrence nods. “You’re probably right.”

I exhale heavily. “Maybe we should be more careful.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. What if it’s dangerous somehow?”

Lawrence turns to face me. “You mean…you think we should

stay away from each other?”

“I don’t know what I think, okay? This whole scenario freaks

me out.”

“What if we try and forget that then,” he says.

“What do you mean?”

His gaze is intense. “What if we forget that I’m from nineteen

twenty-five and you’re from two thousand fifteen.”

“How can we forget that?” I point toward the bushes. “How

can I forget that you dissolve into the air if you try to leave

this beach?”

He grabs my hand. “Because it doesn’t matter. Because, when

all is said and done, we’re just two people. Are we really so different, despite the decades between us?”

My stomach flutters like crazy. It’s almost impossible to meet

his gaze. “I guess not.”

He says nothing but keeps his eyes fixed on me. I release

a slow breath. “Maybe…it would be okay to meet one

more time.”

An irrepressible smile breaks across his face. “Sure. No harm

in that.”

“But we have to be careful.”

“Absolutely.”

I puff out a sigh. “I think we’re probably crazy.”

“Crazy’s not always a bad thing,” Lawrence says with a grin.

“Let’s meet tomorrow night. After the others settle down for

the evening.”

“I can probably do that. What do you have in mind?”

He raises his eyebrow in a mischievous way. “You’ll see.”

I point at him. “If it has anything to do with swimming, I

will punch you.”





h


Luckily for Lawrence, when I arrive at the beach the next

evening, just after sunset, he’s dressed and seems to have no

intention of jumping into the ocean. He’s built a small bonfire and set up four green-and-white-striped beach chairs.



“Hello!” he calls as I approach, waving cheesily.



I suddenly feel embarrassed. I got ready like this was a

date or something. I put on my cutest jeans, a black tank

top, and a chunky beaded necklace. I even curled the

ends of my hair. Lawrence looks sharp and slightly fancy,

as always, but that’s just how he dresses. Those two other

beach chairs make me think he doesn’t intend for this to be

romantic though.

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