In these moments, I could feel summer slipping between my red fingernails. But I still tethered myself to the days I had left. Even the ones where I sat on the roof of that vacation home with tears and mascara running lightly down my face, when I watched the sunset or the stars come out. And of course those moments had their opposites, but still relatives. Every night, I would find myself riding through town with my best friend on our bicycles sountracked with loud music, some of my favorite rock songs. We were free in those moments. Perfumed with vanilla, coffee and white cashmere. Like forgotten beauty queens, turning the otherwise depressing summer scene beautiful.

         And I needed that. I needed that breeze and the cheetah print bikini I would bring to the beach. I needed relief from a beating heart that felt sick of beating. Living for the sound of waves rolling back and forth around an upside down smile, that maybe with another day of ignorant paradise, would flip upwards. My mind clouded summertime sadness.

        The afternoons were coffee out on the lawn and legs hanging over docks. My camera would follow us everywhere so I could capture each moment as raw as possible, so that maybe now when I'm not living it, I will see its beauty. This time that was slow like honey may begin to leave its sweetness behind in my mind when I look back to the smiles, that maybe one day will be remembered as genuine. After the weeks were almost past us, or perhaps we were almost past the weeks, there was one particular day that was so perfectly executed- with skilled and expertly manicured hands. It was the one day that was lovely then and still retains its beauty after summer has said its last goodbye with rainstorms and floods, or tears. Seemingly unimportant, the beauty of this day grew from that. Any wish, or infectious anxiety, up in the smoke of the cigarette I would watch the guys smoke. 

        I was wearing blue denim cutoffs and a black shoulderless shirt, I had an iced black coffee in my hand, and the sky was cloudy through the window and more so when we stepped outside, although it began to clear as the evening rolled in. It was hot and I approached the coffee shop. The one destined to stay, watching the days catch up to each other and witnessing any melodramatic, sunburnt family. Constantly finding myself scratching and clutching at the memory, every time I look at my palms, they are empty. 

        We had just gotten inside the coffee shop, waiting to give our orders. Two iced black coffees. The shop was empty, and the air conditioning was on to lessen the effect of the humid air of summer that would find its way inside in the form of a breeze. The barista stuttered, but finally was able to say "Hey," and "can I take your orders?" His veneer melted with nervousness. Anna told him what we wanted and we waited at the cash register, I could still feel the day at the beach on my skin. I could still hear that one Mac Miller song he played for me the last time I had a coffee in my hand. Standing and waiting, I started to spiral, as I often did in moments where I felt myself getting too comfortable. I could hear the cars outside and the low hum of music playing on the radio. Soon our coffees were on the counter, and I realized I had to pull out my wallet to pay. My heart started pounding in my chest when my fingers lost their way in my bag. Anna went to get napkins. I stood, flushed bright red, breaking right through my eyeliner and the mysterious facade I tried to mold onto my skin. He smiled as he took my money and tried desperately to make conversation, where he seemed more flustered than me. Looking back I can always smile at that. He smiled at me a lot. What was a  minute but felt like eternity. I took our and said a last, "goodbye" as I caught up with my friend, her blonde hair getting tossed around by humid air as we stepped outside to find a table. 

         The sun was hot and hung over our heads amongst the clouds while patrons went in and out. It was almost 5:00, so it was almost close, but time didn't really have the same effect on us. After talking about the hours spent on the beach and maybe whatever necklace I was wearing, we watched the "closed'' sign be fixed on the door. We finished our cold, black coffees and were then on our bikes ready for the next destination. But, never was I stuck thinking from destination to destination, I was almost mindful, almost completely submerged in the present. That was why this particular day was so enviable when laid up against the rest of them. We were both so beautiful, past any surface, past any swipe of mascara. 

        The day's effortlessness carried us to the docks. There we began debating whether or not we wanted ice cream. I walked across the wooden pylons in the golden summer sun watching flags get battered by the harsh wind. The salty air filling my lungs with each breath, here I loved the breathing. We found a place to sit, I dangled my legs off the edge and began playing some soft rock to the rolling of the water.  The water beneath the wooden pylons was almost the shade of blue you see in animations. Where all the beauty of the world is overly enhanced. But, here, beneath my black converse, it was real and delicate and handsome. 

         Like nothing, I found myself lost in the gentle rolling of the small, crystal caps of water that followed the wind which cut through my hair less tenderly than I would have liked. But, that only made it easier for me to sink into the view, because I fit in so perfectly. I was brought from whatever ascension into intense daydream I found myself headed when Anna reminded me of the choice we still hadn't made. 

         So I stood up from where I sat, almost being taken by the wind, and we walked over to the ice cream stand. It was a perfect summer scene, probably something out of that same animated movie that I saw when looking into the water. We went to order and recognized the girl working, exchanged a few words, among our orders: a scoop of vanilla for me, and a scoop of chocolate for Anna. 

         Like some romanticized 1950s film, we sat at a counter on crimson padded metal stools. Eventually, the window opened and I went to get our ice cream cones. I recognized the boy behind the window from the coffee shop, and he gave me another smile. I blushed and turned back to where we were sitting to see my camera on the counter next to my closest friend. No amount of makeup could make anything more beautiful, more desirable than this moment. 

        The vanilla and chocolate began to melt and we watched boats come in and out of the harbor across the way. The sky was slowly preparing for sunset, I could tell by the drowsy increase of orange being effortlessly painted on the clouds above me. I exhaled, allowing this stainless summer day to consume me.