All of Me

thirty four • happy thanksgiving

• • •

It's too cold to be on the beach, but we're on the beach. It's absolutely silent, grey waves slapping hard sand beneath a dark, unforgiving sky. It's hardly romantic, and yet somehow it is, the two of us wrapped together in at least four layers each, plus a blanket wound around both of us. Long gone are the days of burying my feet in warm sand: now I'm wearing thick socks and boots and a coat that barely fastens over my sweater.

After a moment's peace, just staring out at the endless water and the low clouds that are barely distinguishable from the pitch black sky, Liam laughs. The sudden noise makes me jump and knock my head against his.

"What's so funny?" I ask, rubbing my temple.

"This." He spreads out one arm, the other around me, and laughs again. "It's forty degrees and we're on the freaking beach. We're the only ones crazy enough to even leave the house."

"You'd never been here before," I say. I have to stifle a yawn. The cold makes me tired, deepening the urge to cuddle up in front of a heater. "I wanted to show you."

"I love it," he says, settling against me again. "I'd love to live so close to the beach."

"Is it really a beach if the water is a lake?"

"Yes, when the lake might as well be an ocean," he says. "It has waves. We're sitting on sand. It's a beach." He pulls his knees up closer to his chest. "But also it's really freaking cold. You're only so warm, I'm afraid."

"I'm freezing," I admit with a laugh. "I just love how peaceful it is."

Liam's dad already left Cleveland so it won't be long before he's here, and I wanted a bit of alone time with Liam before he leaves. This felt like the perfect place. Silent. No-one around. We could watch the stars.

We did watch the stars, until the clouds settled in and blocked out the weak light from the moon. It feels far later than seven o'clock, but we watched as the sun set at five and the world slowly lost its colour, taking with it any warmth there was.

"Let's head back," he says, his words almost a whisper. "I think my balls have shriveled up."

"Then I guess we should head back." We struggle to our feet, hindered by layers, and trudge up the short beach to begin the walk home. It's only fifteen minutes, but it feels so much longer in the dark, with only the occasional streetlight dotted throughout the town. I swear Five Oaks is stuck in the past.

We walk hand in hand, taking a little more time to get back than usual. It's a struggle to balance the cold setting into my bones, and the tiredness: I want to move fast, to get home and warm up, but I physically can't walk faster than this. My fingers are stiff and frozen, my toes more like ice cubes.

"Maybe this was a bad idea," I say when my teeth start to chatter.

"I loved it," Liam says, "but I can't feel my hands."

We pick up the pace and we're a couple of shivering messes by the time we make it back to the house. The heating greets us like an old friend, thawing us out as we peel off cold layers and slouch into the living room to warm up. When Mom comes in from the kitchen, a look of worry gives way to relief.

"I was just about to call," she says. "I was beginning to think you two had frozen out there."

"Just about," Liam says, raking a hand through his hair, dampened by the cold in the air. "It's so beautiful out there, though. This is such a wonderful town."

Mom beams, a soft smile that lights up her whole face and makes her eyes sparkle. "It really is, isn't it? I love living here. I used to think my heart was in the city, but now I realize it's here." She sits down and passes me her coffee to warm my hands. The ceramic is deliciously warm against my palms.