Between the Stars

Chapter Seven

Sam was hot.

The second he stepped out of his house, the heat wrapped around him like he'd stepped into an oven. It was so oppressive he could hardly breathe, but he'd told Charlie he'd meet her and he wasn't going to break his word. His sweatshirt stuck to his skin uncomfortably, which made his skin itch. He shrugged his shoulders to try and move it around but gave up when that made it worse. A slow breeze brushed over his face but did nothing to cool him as he turned down the road.

By the time he got to town, his t-shirt was soaked and he tugged his sweatshirt away from his chest again. He glared out at the perfectly blue lake, annoyed. Michigan wasn't supposed to be this hot. He looked ahead in anticipation of the relief the trees would give him from the sun, but when he reached them the shade of the trail was disappointing. The air was heavy and bugs swirled around his face; he waved them away as a bead of sweat ran down his temple, tickling his cheek.

Finally, he crashed through the undergrowth and emerged on the beach by the lighthouse. He hovered in the shade for a moment as he stared out into the bright sunlight, exasperation flooding through him. The sand burned through his shoes until he hopped up onto the concrete of the pier, and from there he could see the chain from the door dangling into space.

Charlie was here.

"Hello?" He called.

He could hear scuffling, and a moment later Charlie appeared on the balcony above him.

"Hey!" She called with a smile as bright as the sunlight. "Come on up."

"It's hot," he complained.

"It's summer," she replied before she disappeared around the front of the lighthouse.

Sam shook his head and made his way to the ladder. At least the inside would be in the shade. He stuck his head into the cabin and saw Charlie lounging in the sun against the balcony railing. She wore black shorts and a gray t-shirt that hung loose on her frame. He couldn't help the twinge of jealousy that ran through him as his sweatshirt chafed his arms again.

"I brought some chairs in case you want to stay in the shade," she said.

She was forthright, as usual. No 'How's your day?' or 'What's up?' or 'What new existential dread have we got to discuss today?' for the sake of being polite. He appreciated it. His answers would always be the same anyway and given the choice he'd prefer not to answer them at all.

"Thanks." He closed the trapdoor behind him. "But I don't think it's going to make much difference. Anyway, why did you want me to come all the way out here?"

"It's hot," she said.

"It's summer." He let the sarcasm bleed into his tone as he repeated her words back to her.

"Exactly." She nodded. "And what's the best thing to do when you're hot in the summer?"

"Stay inside in the air conditioning?" He guessed as he sat in one of the folding chairs. "It's not too late, we could go back to my place."

"I mean, we could, but that's boring." She made a face. "I'd rather swim."

Sam shot a dubious look at the water below them. He hadn't been swimming in years. He knew how, of course, and he'd done swim team when he was younger but he hadn't swam since— well, since he no longer wanted to advertise his body to the public.

"I'll watch."

Charlie's eyebrows flicked up with a hint of surprise. "If you want."

She pulled off her t-shirt to reveal a black bikini top, tossed the shirt aside, and started to climb over the railing.