The wood raft was warm and hard under the curve of her spine. The water cool and light against her trailing fingers. If she just slipped her bikini straps down her shoulders a bit, she wouldn't get those funny tan lines. But she was too lazy to move, pinned to place by the sun's demanding arms. Where was Will? Too languid to even open her eyes. Through the afternoon gauziness, she heard a splash. Droplets of water on her lips. Suddenly, the sun's embrace was obscured. Replaced by his arms gathering her up and tossing her overboard.

"Hey! What was that for?"

Spluttering in indignation, she surfaced, wet strands of hair flopping into her eyes. He just laughed, pond water coasting in rivulets down from the ends of his hair, shocked silver by the sunshine. Down the cords of his long neck, drops pooling at the little cup at the base of his throat, racing further downward towards his chest. Like a lover's hungry hands. She squinted her eyes to blur his beauty. Maybe that way, it wouldn't make her knees want to give out.

He shrugged.

"You're such a lazy slug. Just wanted to shake you up a bit."

Oh, she was shaken.

She waded over to him and punched him in the arm. Hard. Stupid idiot for making her care so much.

"Ow! Jesus, Summers! You really need to find a better way to channel that anger."

She held up her fist.

"Oh, I'll channel some anger for you. How do you feel about a knuckle sandwich?"

He grabbed her around the waist and dug his fingers into her sides mercilessly. Her helpless shrieks echoed around the swimming hole, bouncing off the trees, carried up by the wind high into the blue, blue sky.

No-good cheating creep! He knew how ticklish she was. It was NOT FAIR. She pushed his head underwater and didn't let him up until his fingers left her ribs. He surfaced, spitting out water. Spitting mad. Good. She could deal with his anger. It made it easier.

"Mother of God, Summers! What are you trying to do, kill me? I could've drowned!"

She snorted and stared at her bitten nails.

"You weren't going to drown. You're twice as strong as I am, you big whiny baby. Geez, do Angel and Xander know what a sissy you are?"

His cornflower eyes narrowed, lashes lowering threateningly. Christ on a crutch, when he looked like that...she wanted to kiss him. Wait, not kiss. NOT kiss. Kick him. That was it. She just wanted to kick him in his big fat head.

"Take that back."

"No. SISSY."

He flew at her, fingers finding all her most ticklish places. Her ribs, belly, that soft spot where her spine met her waist. She howled and thrashed in his arms. Twisting this way and that to escape his hands licking trails of fire on her body. She found herself turned around in his taunting embrace.

They were face to face, panting. His lips were so, so close. Berry-red. Ripe like fruit glazed with summer sun. She froze, desperately sucking in mouthfuls of air. But it was too heavy and golden. Pooling in her lower belly, stretched out taut and sweet. Would he taste like the air? Sugary and soft? Like that last piece of toffee melting on her tongue? She stared fascinated by a stray droplet of water clinging to the careless curve of his bottom lip. By the sunlight carving a well worn path on his silvered head, his whipcord arms, his flushed cheeks. The constellation of freckles on the bridge of his nose. If she looked very hard, like she did at the stars, would she see something else? Maybe connect them to form her name? Her possession written on his face.

It took everything for her to speak. All her daring. All her mother's lessons tossed aside. 'A young lady never propositions. Only girls who don't have proper unbringings reveal what they want to boys. It's just not proper.'

"You..."

"Huh?"

"I mean, I..."

"What is it? Spit it out."

She whispered it in a rush. Her cheeks felt so hot she feared they would ignite.

"You could have me if you wanted."

He choked and dropped his arms from her form. She shivered with the loss and wrapped her own arms around herself. It was no good. They didn't feel anything like his. They didn't send silvery trills of need through her body.

"Are you on medication, Summers? What are you saying?"

She gulped in air, trying to make her voice sound assured and even. But it came out shaky and timid.

"I would...I would give you anything. Everything."

He swam backwards, away from her. His face suffused with red. Mouth tight and no longer ripe but barren.

"Stop. Stop it. You're talking like a crazy person."

Oh, there was no going back. She might as well see this to the end. Try to show him how much he meant. How she would unhinge the stars and tumble down the moon for him. All for him.

"Please. Please kiss me."

He retreated even further, treading water. Staring at her like she had suggested he break up with Dru. Like she had suggested that he fall on his knees and propose to her. Like she had suggested that they run away together and live happily ever after. Of course, she wasn't asking for that. Of course, she wasn't. He folded his arms over his chest and laughed nervously as she shifted uncomfortably.

"Jesus Christ. You're joking right? Very funny. Fuck Summers, you really had me going there for a moment."

She squinted her eyes and looked straight upwards into the sky. Into the sun. Fighting desperately to keep back the tears. When she was sure they wouldn't fall, she looked over at him again. Frowned in her best imitation of her mother's exasperated expression.

"Of course, I'm joking. I would rather kiss a toad."

He shook his head slowly and swam past her towards the grassy bank. Called to her over his shoulder.

"Grab your things. Let's go before the sun fries your brain completely. Next thing I know, you'll be telling me you want to go steady with Warren Meers."

He walked so fast on the way back, she had to practically run to keep up. Halfway home, she just gave up and trailed behind. His faded blue t-shirt just a blurry oasis up ahead. Her eyes were stinging. When she caught up to him, he was standing on his front lawn, arms folded defensively over his chest, keeping her out.

"Look Summers..."

"What?"

"I'm not coming by for breakfast tomorrow. I'll be picking up Dru."

"Oh."

He raked his long, sun-browned fingers through his hair.

"I just...I just think, since we're starting senior year tomorrow, we're getting too old for it, you know? I mean, it's just a silly ritual. Don't you think?"

She fumbled through her bag, pretending to look for something. Anything to keep her hands from shaking.

"Yeah. You're right. It's no big deal."

She finally looked up and seeing his distant face made her blink her eyes rapidly, to keep back the tears. She'd messed up back at the pond. She was already losing him.

"You okay? Something wrong with your eyes?"

She frowned.

"The only thing wrong with my eyes William James, is that they have to look at your ugly mug."

He huffed.

"Geez, that's charming. You really know how to sweet talk, Summers. Better watch out, keep on going like that and you'll have men lined up all down the street, asking you for dates."

She kicked him and stalked off. Left him in his front yard, hopping on one leg, grabbing his knee and yelling curses at her.

"What did you do that for? Christ, Summers! Are you trying to send me to school tomorrow morning on crutches?"

She stuck her head back out the front door. Just wanted one last jibe at him.

"Crutches would be too good for you! Sissy!"

And slammed the door. Only then did she let the tears fall.

*******************************************************

The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was his face. Slack with sleep, his mouth slightly open, his thin chest rising and falling with his breaths. She rubbed a hand over her eyes. It was all so strange. Dreams of the past colliding with the present. And him, still there. Still here. Her top had fallen down even further while they were sleeping, exposing her to him, to the sun. She blushed as her eyes traveled down and saw his head pillowed on her shoulder, his long, pale fingers curled around her uncovered breast. So white and fragile against the dusky pink of her nipple. He sighed, the sound going straight to her lower belly, his lips moving sleepily against her neck. Little puffs of air from his breaths stirring her hair at the nape. She closed her eyes, forgetting the time, forgetting everything but the feel of him in her arms. The thick softness of his hair as she ran her hand through it.

"Who are you?"

She gasped and sat up, jolting him out of sleep as well. Struggled to straighten her top, while he rubbed at his eyes.

It was a little boy. Where had he come from? He was staring at her. At them, his eyes big behind his glasses.

"Hi. Who are you?"

The boy stared at her owlishly, looking at her disheveled state. At Will beside her, running his hands through his hair.

"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."

She opened her mouth to speak but Will interrupted her.

"What's your name little man?"

The boy looked him up and down and nodded his little head sagely as if to say 'he's different, but he's okay.'

"I'm Daniel Webster. I'm seven years and three months old. What are your names?"

She tried to speak but Will shushed her.

"I'm Adam and her name's Eve."

"Oh. Is she your wife?"

She couldn't help but smile.

"No, no I'm not."

"Huh. Why?"

"I don't know."

"If you got married, you could have a baby. My mother says everyone loves babies."

Will muffled his laughter against her shoulder.

"Yes, Daniel. I'm sure they do."

"If you had a baby boy, you could name him Daniel, after me. It's a good name. My mother says so."

"Your mother is a smart lady. Shouldn't you be getting back to her now?"

The boy nodded and pointed towards the row of houses beyond the cornfield. She'd not noticed them before now. They hadn't been there when she lived in the town.

"I live over there. I just finished my piano lesson. I hate the piano."

"I used to play the piano. I hated it too."

Suddenly, she noticed the sky was red, fading into twilight. Oh no, they had completely lost track of time. She saw the little blue Mickey Mouse watch on the boy's wrist.

"Daniel, what time is it?"

"It's four o'clock. My mother taught me to tell time."

"That's very good. It's an important skill."

The boy's chest puffed up with pride like a little rooster.

"I think so too."

They got up and Will leaned against her as she gathered up her things.

"Can you get home by yourself, Daniel?"

The boy rolled his eyes.

"Of course, I do it all the time."

Will chuckled and she flushed with warmth at the sound.

"Well then little man, better not keep your mother waiting."

She watched as the boy waved and took off towards his home. Her eyes stung a bit seeing his little body hurtling through the cornfield like Will's had, all those years ago.

She turned to him and put her hand on his elbow.

"We should get back too."

"Alright."

"Do you think you can lead the way?"

"I think I remember now."

She followed him, her hand light on his back in case he veered off course. Helped him climb over the fence into his own backyard. He held her bag as she hoisted herself over. When she turned, he took her breath away. Standing there by the old oak, the treehouse overhead. He beckoned her forward.

"Will? I should get going."

"I know."

"But I'll be back tomorrow. Oh, I forgot! I left the pie in your kitchen. I should take it with me so she doesn't see it. And you didn't even get to try it."

He lifted a hand towards her cheek and she leaned into it.

"It's alright. I already know it tastes like heaven."

She moved his hand towards her lips so he could feel her smile.

"Thank you. Let's go inside."

Back in the kitchen, she picked up her bags and prepared to go. It was getting so hard. Everything in her cried out that her place was with him.

"Well, it's almost time. I really should get going."

"Yes."

She opened the backdoor and was just about to slip out. Jumped when it slammed shut and she found herself whirled around, pinned with her back against the wood by his arms. His forehead on hers. When he spoke, his voice so low and feverish, she was sure she would've fallen if not for his hands on her shoulders.

"Can I...can I kiss you?"

"Yes. Please. Please kiss me."

And then he was. His lips hot and hungry on her own. His teeth nipping at her bottom lip. His soft, soft tongue catching her sob in her mouth. When he pulled back, she had to clutch the doorknob to steady her watery legs.

"Until tomorrow, then."

"Y-y-yes. Until tomorrow."

"I'll be waiting."

"Me too."

And with that, she flew out the backdoor, her feet so light and airy, she thought she would never come back down to earth. When she was back in her mother's kitchen, she devoured two slices of the apple pie she made for him. He was right. It tasted like heaven.

I would say today was the best day of my life. But it would be a lie. I don't think I will ever have a best day. Because there's always tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that. She is talking to me now but I'm not listening. My head is full of you. God, the feel of your skin, the way your lips move against mine, the sound of your voice. Everything that was and is and will always be you. I'm drowning in you.

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