Understanding. Accepting. Supporting. Loving.

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Guys I'm sorry it's been so long and it's a bit short but it's a bit jam packed I think. So forgive me, I'll be trying extra hard to get more chapters up because I'll be gone here and there over the summer.  And this chapter is dedicated to happycolorgirl because I loved her comment on my last chapter.  And for all you who leave comments, I will dedicate a chapter to you eventually because you're the reason I write. :)

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Chapter 16

Summer's POV

Maybe it's because I grew up with no siblings to yell at.  So I don't explode on people.  I've never yelled at someone except on the soccer field, and that's because I have to.  Maybe it all boils down to how I've been raised.  Polite and very aware of how my actions affect others.  Damn.  But nothing stops my mind once it gets going.  Over analyzing everything and becoming pretty stubborn at times. 

I huff as I pass by another group of pretty teenage girls.  Another.  It's just one after another.  In cute short shorts, tank tops that show their bellies, and their skimpy bikinis.  Flaunting what they got, or what they don't have.  Then you got their flawless hair up in textbook messy buns or flowing through the wind like fucking models.  They wear these pretty accessories, but nothing takes away from their perfect little bodies and their stupid perfect faces.  Plus the fact that the hottest boys on the planet are always walking with them.  It's like a fucking movie.

I roll my eyes and look out to the water.  The little crowds of people on the beach.   I cut through the crowd to the railing of the boardwalk.  I hold up my camera and scan the environment. 

I've always love pictures.  Pictures that capture the real things in life.  Like the first spring flowers blooming.  The paw prints in the fluffy white snow.  The sun crashing through the tree's leaves. 

Then there's people.  It's an art.  Capturing people in everyday life.  Because along with every picture is a story.  One I make in my mind.  A message that goes with every picture.  The real raw feelings of the picture mixed with my favorite expressive medium, words.

I catch a couple of normal looking teenage girls laughing.  They really look like they are having the time of their lives.  I realize that there must be so much behind their happiness, but in this moment I can tell that they wouldn't change a thing.

Then when I zoom closer to the edge of the water I see a little boy running, and when I follow him with my camera, I see him running into his dad's arms.  He's standing right next to what I presume is his wife.  The smiles on their faces.  The loving looks.  That's true happiness, even if that's not the little boy's real dad or his real mom or if that whole family has a complicated story.  They love each other.

I bring the camera down from my eye and just hold it in my hands.  My eyes stare aimlessly.  My thoughts go elsewhere.  Things pass my mind without leaving a memory.  I can feel myself slipping into a familiar mood.

"Fuck." I whisper to myself and turn away from the beach.  My feet start walking me down the boardwalk.  I just navigate through the people, not bothering to think about my destination.  But my mind does see a random empty bench as a good stopping point.

I figure going through the pictures on my camera is a good pastime as any at the moment.  After what felt like seconds but must've been many minutes, I see a recognizable figure walking through the crowd.  Without even looking up, I know who it is.  The way he walks and holds himself, I know.  The rush he's in, I can tell it's him.  So I drop my head down a bit farther trying to avoid any confrontation.

But the figure hesitates, and slowly gets closer.  "Summer?"  I lift my eyes to his.  He looks at me as if he's trying to make sure it's really me.  Then he takes a seat next to me.

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