Free Seven Tears at High Tide by C.B. Lee Page A

Morgan’s imitation of a seagull. Morgan sticks out his tongue. “Pests.”
    â€œSo true,” Kevin says, laughing. “You should see the school around lunchtime. Right before the bell rings, they all swarm in, waiting to attack the trashcans and the food left out. They can get quite vicious.”
    Morgan laughs, squawking ridiculously and flapping his hands, making a silly face.
    â€œAre you staying in Piedras Blancas?” Kevin asks.
    Morgan shakes his head. “A bit farther north. My family is only staying here for the summer.”
    â€œOh.” Kevin is more than a little disappointed that Morgan won’t be going to high school with him in the fall. He’ll be gone come September, back to Scotland or something.
    â€œCome on.” Kevin takes Morgan’s hand, suddenly filled with the desire to make more of his time with this strange and compelling boy.
    They wander into the house, wipe their wet feet on the welcome mat, climb up the stairs and giggle as they pass Ann’s bedroom. She’s dancing with her headphones on, oblivious to the open door, swaying to the beat.
    In Kevin’s bedroom, he quickly scrounges up some clean shirts and shorts. “Here, you can wear this,” he says, handing an outfit to Morgan and then ducking into his bathroom to change. He peels off the wetsuit and hangs it up in his shower, then leans his surfboard carefully against the wall, eyeing the crack. He’ll have to fix it tomorrow.
    When he returns, Morgan is holding onto the wet boardshorts, wearing the outfit Kevin gave him. He looks curiously at the rock collection prominently displayed on Kevin’s bookshelf. “These are beautiful,” he says.
    â€œHere, I’ll take that,” Kevin says, holding out his hand for the bedraggled boardshorts to hang in his shower. He’s certain now that they’re the ones from the lifeguard’s lost and found. Kevin’s starting to worry that Morgan doesn’t have any other clothes, but he doesn’t know how to bring it up. Money can be a touchy subject.
    Morgan holds Kevin’s favorite specimen, a piece of green olivine on basalt. Kevin once almost convinced Ann it was an avocado roll—it certainly looks like one, bright green speckled with sesame seeds, wrapped in dark seaweed.
    â€œThat’s from Mexico. My family went on vacation to Baja last year, and I got that out of an old volcano.” He tries his best to describe the sweltering heat and the excitement of finding geodes and cracking them open with a hammer. Morgan listens in rapt silence as Kevin talks about the find and tilts the olivine so it catches the light. He sets it back in its spot behind its label, slowly so as not to disturb the other specimens, and Kevin is quietly pleased with Morgan’s careful appreciation.
    â€œI changed my mind,” Kevin blurts out.
    â€œAbout what?”
    â€œI do want this to be a date. For us, to do that,” he says, blush­ing. “I like you. A lot.”
    Morgan’s face breaks into a bright, happy smile.
    â€œAnd what do we do differently, for this to be a date?”
    Kevin can feel the heat on his cheeks. “We can hold hands, if you like. Um, or kiss, if you want to. But we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I’m fine just hanging out and watching a movie with you.”
    Morgan tilts his head and steps closer. “I want to,” he says, not specifying what, but Kevin knows immediately.
    It’s just the quickest brush of lips, but Kevin feels it all the way to his toes. A warm curl of excitement blooms throughout his body, and Morgan’s mouth is warm and wet against his. It’s not like any kiss he’s had, chaste and sweet and over in a second, and yet his heart is still pounding after Morgan leans back. He’s close enough for Kevin to be able to count the eyelashes dark against his cheek.
    Morgan ducks his head and asks,