Rosethorn by Ava Zavora Page A

edged away from her. “I have to go now." He quickly got up.
    “Stay. Please." Sera stayed on the bed, feeling abandoned, her arms outstretched to him.
    “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
    “Yes, I do." She sat up, her mouth parted.
    He looked at her, almost pained.  He shook his head.
    “No. No, you don’t." He started climbing over her desk to the window. “We’ll see each other tomorrow.”
    When she didn’t reply, Andrew stopped, one leg out the window. “Right?"
    Sera had her legs drawn up, arms crossed over them.
    “Right ?” he insisted.
    Sera nodded. He sat out the window ledge, then placed his hands on the ledge and turned, before lowering himself.
    “See you later, he gasped as he hung on, waiting for her to say goodbye.
    Sera moved quickly from the bed and leaned out the window, catching him in one last kiss.
    “See you later.”
    He swung his legs to the edge of the storage and with one foot on it, inched down the ledge, until both feet were planted squarely on the roof. It took him moments to climb down and then he was picking up his bike.
    Sera felt cold and wrapped her arms around her bare shoulders.
    He looked back and raised a hand, holding it in the air before riding away.

 
    Chapter 8
     
     
    If she had to describe the days that followed, Sera would have been at a loss for words. It was made up entirely of her senses, awakening all at once.
    How Andrew tasted, sometimes sweetly late at night in her room, other times salty, as in the hot afternoon. How his skin felt, his rough hands, the stubble on his chin grazing her neck, his tongue in her mouth. The fresh way he smelled first thing in the morning and his dizzying, musky scent after he had been laboring all day under the sun. The sound of the wind rushing past them as they drove to the beach or his voice murmuring in her ear as they lay in her bed, the beat of his heart, the quietness between them when they didn’t have to speak at all to know what the other was feeling. The blur of sunlight and green trees as seen from the window of his mother’s van, his face half in shadow as he bent to kiss her. And most of all, the constant yearning that burned hotter than full-blown summer.
    School finally ended and they had what seemed like countless days to themselves.
    Allison was going away to Baltimore for a month-long visit with her father, arranged before she and Paul started going out. Allison was hysterical, crying nonstop in the days before she had to leave. She could not bear to be torn from Paul, who was gloomy and taciturn as they said their good-byes for the summer. He was going to try and borrow enough money to visit her for a week, but it could not console Allison.
    Sera watched them both at the airport, her heart filled with pity for the couple, who clung to each other even as the last boarding call went out. Allison broke free from Paul’s arms and ran to the door, tears streaming down her face as she waved farewell.
    It was with guilty relief when Sera saw Andrew afterwards. There was no shadow of such a parting between them. The summer was all theirs and the wide world was waiting to be explored.
    One day they made the drive to the city, Andrew behind the wheel of his mother’s van and Sera next to him. They flew down the highway south, past San Rafael, Larkspur, and Tiburon, the golden hills and green trees a blur. They blasted music on the ancient stereo and rolled the windows down for there was no air conditioning. Sera leaned out the window, her heart full, her hair flying out in thick strands in the wind. She watched Andrew as he concentrated on driving, both hands on the wheel.
    There was darkness when they entered the tunnel by Sausalito and when they exited in the bright sunlight, she held her breath—the Golden Gate Bridge rose before them, the city shimmering beyond that, floating on the azure waters of the Pacific. It had never looked quite as beautiful before. As they neared San Francisco, she looked up