“That night at the beach,” Mabel says. “And the days after, until school ended and all through the summer . . .” “Yeah?” “I thought I’d never love another person.” “I thought that, too.” “I guess we should have known better.” “I don’t know about that,” I say. I close my eyes. Here we are on Ocean Beach. Here’s the whiskey bottle in the sand and the sound of waves crashing and the cold wind and the darkness and Mabel’s smile against my collarbone. Here we are in that spectacular summer. We are different people now, yes, but those girls were magic. “I’m glad we didn’t know better,” I say.
