“Hey,” Jake said. Now that “hey” was cool. That “hey” was a hey about town, and that “hey” was defs down for whatevs! I was so jealous of his “hey.”

“I can’t wait to build a sandcastle!” Lisa jumped up and down as if she wasn’t bound by gravity. She never stopped moving, it seemed. Her movements and voice also had a certain punctuated urgency to them.

“With five turrets and a moat!” Zac raised his voice and flapped his fingers a little.

“Of course, those are the most important parts!” Jake said with a reassuring smile, which seemed to relax Zac somewhat.

Jake looked at me and gave me a tiny nod; I wasn’t used to nods, either, and my eyes widened in shock. When Zac raised his voice in public people usually shook their heads in blatant disapproval. On one occasion, a woman had actually walked up to us and reprimanded my mother for allowing her child to behave like that in public. My mother had been so apologetic, but I refuse to apologize for Zac’s behavior. My mother always does, though. As if his “mess” isn’t compatible with her projected perfection. I like my brother’s mess.

But Jake seemed completely nonjudgmental. And I couldn’t help it, I smiled at him. For a second, our eyes locked and wow, he did have rather nice eyes. Especially in this late-afternoon glow. What color were they? Cobalt, azure, no . . . cerulean blue! That’s it. A little bit dusty with the slightest hint of green. I looked away quickly when a fluttering feeling started deep in my belly.

“I brought a cooler with some drinks, a bucket with some spades, and a few towels to sit on,” Jake explained.

“You come prepared,” I said, not daring to make cerulean contact amid all the fluttering. I mentally scolded myself for allowing the flutter in the first place. Girls like me shouldn’t flutter for guys like Jake. But I was fluttering. And now I couldn’t stop saying fluttering in my head. I cleared my throat and shuffled my foot in the sand awkwardly. I looked down, utterly horrified to see sand particles sticking to the hairs on my toes. I quickly curled them under. I wasn’t used to this open-toed way of life. I needed to shave there!