We Had the Right Kind of Love // L.S.

Chapter 12. Seaside

"Come on Louis!" Harry cries, scrambling out the door and sprinting to the waves ahead. The sun sparkles in the cloudless sky above making the sand hot and the air thick with sweat. I wipe my forehead with my arm and climb out after Harry.

It's one of those stereotypical perfect California summer's days that people write songs about. The palm trees provide little to no shade above our heads, the seagulls flap from trash bin to trash bin searching for scraps and colorful beach towels speckle the golden sand as people lay in the sun, laughing, talking, tanning. I watch Harry's tall figure disappear into the horizon of blue, limbs flying with the coordination of a baby giraffe.

He might be Mr. Popular, Mr. All-That at school with his perfect mop of curls and cheeky smirk that charmed everyone in his presence, but not when he was sprinting like a mad man down to the oceans' edge to dip his toes in the water and squeal like a little child.

"God, you'd think he would have matured after his first year of high school but no," Gemma grumbles, climbing out of the car and pulling her dark hair into a bun in the top of her head.

"Go on Lou, we'll get the stuff," Katie says, waving me off as she backs Gemma into the side of the car, kissing her softly. "Chill babe," I hear her say as I start after Harry, who is probably already in the ocean.

"Smell that Lou?" he shouted from the water's edge, spreading his arms wide and tilting his face towards the sky, "Freedom!"

I dump my backpack down on the sand and our two towels, "Well, don't just stand there sniffing the air, let's get in," I say, pulling my T-shirt over my head and running towards him. I ram my chest into his back and tighten my arms around his thin torso.

This year had been tough, to say the least. With Harry being pulled this way and that at school and with our classwork load increasing like three times, it was rare that I got him all to myself anymore. It was rare that I could freely wrap him up in a hug, like we use to do when we were younger, and pull him in so tightly into my chest I could feel his heartbeat. It was rare that we even touched these days and there's no way I was passing up the opportunity today.

"Ok, ok," he says laughing before pulling his T-shirt off too.

Damn it, I thought releasing my grasp on his waist and taking a couple of steps back.

Distance.

I needed distance.

Sure, I was comfortable touching him —just like I always had— but unfortunately growing up meant I was no longer in control of my body if it decided to react in ways that would be less than optimal. If I let that happen, things would get weird. I couldn't have our relationship become weird. I couldn't screw this up.

Harry was the best person in my life. He made me happy, he made me laugh like no one else, he made me feel safe, cared about, special, and important. In his eyes, I was so important and if I acted on these stupid needs like touching him for too long, it would all disappear. I just knew it would. So,

Distance.

"Lou, what's up?" Harry asks, shading his eyes and knee-deep in water. "Weren't you just telling me to hurry up?"

"Sorry, I just blanked out for a minute, I say, swallowing hard and following him.

"You've been doing that a lot recently," Harry says, "Maybe your age is getting to you."

"Idiot," I say, splashing him as we wade deeper into the water. "It's only two months."

"Yeah, two months that you used to constantly remind me about!" Harry teases back and sends a handful of water in my direction.