Summer's Fun (The Boys of Ocean Beach 2)

“Just closing up. Finding some dinner—” His lips capture mine. My heart hammers. “Maybe hanging out with you.”

“Maybe?”

I shrug playfully. “What would a townie do on a night like this?”

He smiles and it’s like looking into the sun. God, I’ve missed him. “Well, a real townie would buy a six-pack of beer and some food, then maybe walk down to the Camp and hang out for a while. If you’re a guy like me, you’re hoping some hot chick will let you make out with her behind the dunes.”

“What’s the Camp?”

“Have none of us ever taken you there?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

“Come on, let’s go to the Grill and get some food. Then we’ll pop your townie cherry.” His fingers link with mine.

I finish closing up and lock the front door. I have this moment of wondering if I should call my mom and let her know where I’m going, but then realize I’m on my own right now. No adults. No obligations except showing up for work in the morning. I take Justin’s hand and let him lead me down the road—ready to embrace the unknown excitement of the night ahead.

Turns out The Camp is actually an old, abandoned camp on the undeveloped end of the island. The remaining cabins are made of cinderblock and long boarded up. I hadn’t even noticed the area during the daylight, most of the buildings obscured by dunes and long, wild-growing sea grass. Justin takes my hand and a lantern out of the back of the Jeep. I carry the bag of greasy food from the Grill. Together, we walk down a sandy path through the heart of the dunes.

“Back in the day, boys were sent here for the summer—kind of a reform type thing.”

“So it was for troubled kids?” I ask.

“I guess. I know Richard did a stint out here one year when his mother was tired of chasing him down.”

“Richard. Got in trouble.” I’m astounded. Richard is a lawyer and business man—he seems like the last person to get sent away.

Justin smiles down at me. “Why do you think he’s got a soft spot for me and the guys? He sees himself in us.”

I hear the sound of something zipping across pavement—followed by drags and scrapes. The noise is unfamiliar and as it gets louder we get closer to a glowing light, then voices lift on the wind.

The dunes part and everything clicks into place. The sounds, the voices…everything.

“You guys turned it into a skate park?”

A wide swath of pavement sits between the graffiti-covered, abandoned buildings. Massive ramps arc on each end along with some smaller obstacles around the edges. A group of boys and a few girls zip along the concrete, wheels rolling over the curved wooden ramps.

“It’s been here for years.” He holds up his arm and reveals a nasty scar on his elbow. “I got that falling over there.” He points to the larger ramp where a kid just tumbled, his board falling with a clatter. He hops up quickly.

“I think I like surfing better. Less dangerous.”

He makes a face. “Sharks are less dangerous?”

“What? You’re always telling me sharks aren’t a risk!”

He wraps his arms around me and squeezes me tight. “You’re adorable.”

“You do too many dangerous sports.”

“How about tonight we just hang out and watch?”

I agree and he leads me to a bench and we pull out our food. Everyone at the Camp knows him, stopping by for handshakes or fist bumps. They ask about college, the guys, and the marina. They all give me a side, questioning look; the guys and girls. A few times, he introduces me. Other times he doesn’t seem to feel the need. It’s all overwhelming but an interesting peek into his life.

Across the way I spot two girls staring and realize I’ve seen them before.

“Who are those girls?” I ask.

Justin looks across the park, skateboarders zooming through the space. “Jessica Park and Isabel Higgs. They’re a few years younger than me.” He licks mustard off his thumb. “Why?”