Free Silence by Deborah Lytton Page B

door.
    While he walks around to the driver’s side, I have a moment to collect myself. I’ve never really been out on a date before. Not a real one, anyway. Just those group outings with Lily to hang out with boys she had crushes on. And I’ve never had a boyfriend. I don’t know whether this is even a real date, but suddenly, I am overwhelmingly shy.
    I look around. The truck is clean inside. Mint gum sits on a shelf in the dashboard. His cell phone lies on the seat. No other clues as to who this magical person may be.
    Hayden gets in and smiles at me again before he starts the car. The keys in the ignition dangle back and forth on his keychain—a knot woven of silver. I’ve seen it before. That night.
    I shiver slightly, remembering when he said my name. How it sounded like music. I may never hear Hayden speak my name again. My chest is tight with the loss. I watch the knot swing back and forth. Better than staring at him.
    I turn to look out the window, watching the streets we pass. I think about why I am here. Try to imagine myself in a new way. And that means letting go.
    I am here with Hayden. That’s all that matters. I glance at him. As if he knows I am thinking about him, he looks at me. The tightness in my chest begins to loosen like a rosebud beginning to bloom in the sun. Petals slowly open.
    I’m still a prisoner in my Miss America bubble of silence, but I notice something new. The silence isn’t as lonely as it was before. Somehow, it feels . . . peaceful.
    After about fifteen minutes, Hayden turns onto Pacific Coast Highway, which runs along the beach. Sapphire waters melt onto the shore. Hayden leans across me to roll down my window. He’s so close that for a moment, I can feel his warmth. His hair brushes softly against my cheek, leaving the scent of coconut shampoo in its wake. Heat rises in my cheeks, and I resist the urge to cover them with my hands. Before I know it, the moment is over. The rush of fresh air from the open window cools my flaming skin.
    I breathe deeply. Taste the salty air on my tongue. Then I lean forward to let the wind blow on my face. I close my eyes and let myself be.
    When I open them again, we are pulling into a parking lot. Hayden turns off the truck and comes around to my side to help me out. He grabs a backpack from the bed of the truck and slings it over his shoulder.
    Then he turns to smile at me. “Let’s go,” he says.
    As I walk beside him, he slows his pace to keep time with mine. His stride is smooth, effortless. He glides.
    At the edge of the sand, he leans over to pull off his sneakers. I try to do the same, but as soon as my head drops below my waist, I stagger. I give up. I can’t even take my own shoes off.
    This is not how I pictured my first date.
    I step into the sand, and my shoes sink into the softness. Hayden walks closer to the water. Then he stops and pulls a blanket out of the backpack. Together we lay it across the sand. Gingerly, I sit down. Hayden sits next to me.
    Being so close to him makes my heart race. I imagine he can hear it pounding in my chest. I dare to look at him. He gestures to my sneakers.
    “Can I help you?” he asks slowly.
    I nod.
    Hayden unties my sneakers. From there, I can push the shoes off my feet. I dig my toes into the sand. Touch the coolness beneath the surface.
    The ocean sparkles in the bright sunlight. Seagulls swoop into the water, making U shapes in the sky as they rise and fall. The waves roll and wash on the shore, sending foam splashing into the air. The spray drifts across my cheeks. Sprinkles me. The beach is almost empty, save for a couple of joggers and the occasional surfer. I sense my breathing slow. My heart rate calm.
    “You remembered,” I say. He remembered that the beach is my dream vacation. I don’t say that I remember it is his favorite, too. I don’t have to.
    “I remember everything about you,” he says. I imagine how his voice sounds as he forms the syllables—slow and staggered.