Most of the beachgoers were headed out as they were heading in, so it was easy enough to find parking—and the lot was vast. They walked together up the long boardwalk with the beach grasses waving at them from either side. They passed the pavilion with benches where a runner was stretching and tapping on the screen of a cell phone. They passed the sign that tells you what to do when caught in a rip current. When they got to the sand, they both kicked off their shoes and left them where they landed. Cam carried the Market Basket bag slung over one shoulder, and he handed her another bag with a blanket in it.

They stood for a moment, deciding which way to go. To the left you walked past the beach houses and toward the Blue Ocean Music Hall and the downtown strip, where people bought squares of beach pizza and ice cream and played in the arcades and listened to live music in the Bands on the Beach series. To the right was more solitude, a jetty, and, eventually, the part of the beach attached to the campground, where people let their dogs run around off the leash.

“Let’s go to the right,” said Alexa. “More privacy.” It was low tide and the beach was flat and gigantic. There were hard, feet-massaging ripples in the sand closer to the water. They walked for a while in silence and then Cam said, “Alexa. I leave for school in nine days.”

Alexa felt a drop in her stomach, and her voice sounded strange as she croaked out, “Nine days?” Had summer really gone by so quickly? It seemed like just yesterday she woke up in Cam’s guest bedroom. Just yesterday, he was an affable stranger in St. Michael’s spirit wear. “That’s it? That can’t be right.”

“Yeah,” said Cam. He stopped and looked out at the water, frowning, so Alexa stopped too, turning to face the waves. “I have to get back early for the team. We really ramp up practice before the semester starts. We have a few big tournaments right away in the fall. It gets pretty intense.” There was a time Alexa might have smirked at the idea of intense golf training, but that time was in the past, and she understood and even admired how seriously Cam took his sport.

She scanned the beach. There were a few people left: the evening picnickers, the kids who’d begged their parents to stay just a little bit longer, the dog owners brash enough to flaunt the rules even away from the campground. Alexa looked out, and out, and out, all the way to the horizon. Full sunset was still an hour or so off, but the sky was changing by the second, going from pink-stripey to dark purple to navy blue. She felt a twist in her heart, a nostalgia for something that hadn’t yet passed.