Summertime & Butterflies

Eight

"I promise, we're here now," Harry assured Olivia, though he'd promised her the same promise three times in the last ten minutes. Olivia didn't care - she'd drive to Mexico with Harry so long as the 80's rock and hand-holding remained constant. He shifted gears, slowing the car down as he pulled into a wide spot on the road about ten miles south of her sister's place. The Pacific Ocean was glittering to the west and Olivia, feeling punchy, looked at Harry and grinned.

"Jack... this is where we first met!" she told him with facetious astonishment and gesturing with a flourish, referencing the hellish trip over the Pacific they'd taken together only days prior.

Harry grinned at her and shook his head, turning off the car. "Nah... I first noticed you in the terminal in Vancouver," he told her, somewhat embarrassed. Olivia stared at him, shocked he'd noticed her before she became noticeable. "Yeah... you were on the phone with someone... and your zipper on your suitcase had broken. You were trying to tie an elastic around the... like, the handle part of the zipper... and you looked so annoyed, rolling your eyes all sassy-pants like..." He smiled in retrospect, remembering the girl at the airport in Vancouver, who he was now holding hands with on the South Shore of Los Angeles.

"You saw me there?" asked Olivia, wondering what she was wearing and how she looked at the early hour before the flight to Los Angeles. She felt bad, having not noticed Harry. She remembered seeing a cute airport security guard, but not Harry - a tidbit she'd keep to herself.

"How could I not?" he wondered, his voice low, as though he was speaking only to himself. He smiled at Olivia before opening his door. She followed suit, though she wondered if she'd stayed put, if he would open her door for her. To her, opening the door before she was in the car was chivalrous - opening it while she was sitting in the car was laziness, on her part.

"So, what?" Olivia asked Harry, gazing at the view before them. The ocean was beside them, but a steep cliff separated the narrow road from the bright blue water. "Are you going to push me down the cliff? Tuck and roll?"

"Hence the sweater. For protection," Harry told her, smirking as he opened the back door of the car. "Erm... but actually... I brought food and stuff... and I thought it'd be nice to, like... just sit on the beach and have a few bites and like, talk and stuff, you know?"

Olivia walked to the driver's side of the car and stood next to Harry, peering into the backseat and examining what he'd brought. She saw three bags - one had cellophane and wrapping poking out, and she assumed it was food. Another bag looked as though it contained fabric - a blanket, maybe. She couldn't tell what was in the third bag, but regardless, his effort impressed her.

"Wow," Olivia commented. "You did some planning here, didn't you?" She touched his back for a second or two, wanting to show her appreciation but not wanting to be condescending. She also didn't want to tell him she'd never had a guy pack a picnic lunch for her with plans to only sit and talk. Olivia didn't think it was something she ever wanted, but now on the brink of her first romantic date, she was eager to cuddle on the beach with Harry.

He smiled at her, pulling the bags out of the car, one by one, and setting them on the ground beside him. "I just thought it would be nice..." he told her, sounding uncertain of his date choice.

"It is!" Olivia assured him. "It's really, really nice. Thank you," she added, getting the impression that Harry was someone who needed reassurance for his decisions. But, who was she to deny him that, when she could be the same?

"Eh, it's more for me than you," Harry teased her, sounding relieved as he shut the car door. "I have a thing for picnics on beaches I've never been to. I just needed the company,"