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worrying about saying something stupid but when I actually get there and I talk with Gavin, things go so smoothly. I was surprised to find out that I liked the physical contact of hugging and holding hands with him. I used to feel like when a guy was affectionate that way it was because they only had one thing in mind. With Gavin I could tell that there was no hidden agenda. He just wanted to hold my hand to hold my hand, he just wanted to hug me to hug me, and that was it. I really like him. This is really scary, but in a good way, somehow. 
    He looked so incredibly handsome, barefoot in the sand and leaning against a palm tree. His product-free black hair was being tousled by the breeze coming off of the water. The same breeze that was threatening to blow the bottom of his white shirt up to reveal some skin. His bright white cotton shirt with brown buttons was billowing in the wind around his torso, his nice fitting tan cargo pants were rolled up to the knee, and his smile was so beautiful. And he was smiling because of me! Yay! I doubt that Gavin is this goofy when he thinks about me . Having a crush on someone makes me feel so juvenile. Gavin and I sort of had matching outfits, since I was wearing a white, spaghetti strapped summer dress with little red flowers along the hem and red flip flops. My hair was still in curls.
    When I crossed the long expanse of white sand and trudged over to him he gave me a big hug and said “Good to see you” so sincerely I almost melted into the sand. We didn’t really plan to do much except walk around and enjoy the view. “Let’s look for shells,” I suggested. Gavin put an arm around my shoulder, pulled me close to him and kissed me on the cheek as we started walking along the shore.
    Does he know what he’s doing to me?! If so, I have to admit he’s good. I checked myself mentally. Erase thoughts of romantic bliss: check. Hands to myself: check. Clothing on: check. “Ooo! I wonder if I’ll find a whole sand dollar. I always find broken ones.”
    “Like this one?” Gavin said as he bent down and picked up a sand dollar with a triangular chunk missing from it.
    "Yeah. It would be so nice to have some for decoration."
    "We'll find some for you."
    Gavin and I sifted through the sand for about twenty minutes, our hopes peaked with every sight of a round, bone-white circle poking out of the sand and our hopes were dashed time and time again when the sand dollar turned out to be more of a half dollar. And then Gavin did something that almost made me propose to him on the spot. He, Gavin Caselle, did a perfect Jack Sparrow finding the rum on the deserted island impression, his arms out at his side, taking big swaggering paces down the shore. Then he yelled "Aha!," got down on his knees, and started digging. I ran over to him laughing with tears in my eyes. "Gavin! What are you doing?"
    "I'm finding you a sand dollar, darling," he said in that unmistakable pirate brogue made famous by the genius actor Johnny Depp. I'm ashamed to say I giggled. Uncontrollably. "Not good," he said turning to me with a disappointed look. "No sand dollars here. All I found was this here hole." He dusted the sand off of his hands and pulled me down to sit beside him. I sat cross-legged and rested my head on his shoulder. I felt his hand slowly rub up and down my back. It was soothing. We both looked out onto the water and the setting sun and sighed at the same time. That had us giggling for a while.
    I scanned the shore and up the beach to the right of me where I saw families, couples, locals and tourists dotting the sand and the water. To the left of where Gavin and I were sitting, a girl and a guy were laid out tanning about five feet away from us. I hadn't noticed anyone else on the beach this entire time! I was getting too wrapped up in the view and his entrancing green eyes. Get a grip, Sydney! What do I really know about Gavin? I've seen his good side. What about the bad? I raised my head from his