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Summer wasn’t the worst possible season by any means.
It was just difficult to remember how relieving it was to have summer break when the sun was crowned at its highest point of day, beating almost mercilessly down on the group of seven as they clambered out of the rented van, flesh hot and sticky from a long drive from inland to shore. Pidge was drenched in sweat, a feeling she was used to, but more annoying now than ever in the midst of a July summer sun. And it didn’t help the cacophony that reached her ears as she, the smallest of the group, finally got to escape the poorly air-conditioned rental van and step out onto the beachfront.
The carnival was in town.
Which only added to the chaos, to the place where sand met surf, where children were laughing and running in and out of cool ocean waves and elegantly tanned surfers rolled out to sea. The rented ferris wheel loomed over the boardwalk it was planted on, cheesy fair music bumping uproariously over installed speakers. There was a distinct smell of cotton candy mixed with sticky shaved ice and oozing plates of nachos. Pidge almost forgot the clamor of her friends around her, not until one in particular gently nudged against her elbow.
“Hey, sweaty, you gonna stand there all afternoon or check out the carnival?”
Pidge blinked, shaken from her stupor as she gave Lance a once-over. He was grinning, well mannered, eager to get a move on just like a puppy. She grinned back at him.
It was infectious. He had that sort of grip on her.
“Alright, alright! And hey, I might be sweaty but at least I wasn’t complaining about it the whole ride here.”
It was good-natured banter, they both knew it, finding each other’s hands, loosely clasping fingers as they lingered behind the rest of their friends, drifting closer together, voices only loud enough for each other to hear.
“Whatever .” Lance nudged into her, beaming. “So, what do you wanna do first?”
“I dunno. Didn’t Shiro have an itinerary or something?”
“Or we can ditch them. Please tell me we’ll ditch them.”
“That totally depends on if his plans start out lame or not. You got an escape plan?”
Lance paused for a moment, thinking.
“I’ll say you got food poisoning and then we bolt for the nearest fun thing.”
“That’s it? What if they catch us later?”
“Oh, the plight of star-crossed lovers. Doomed to never have rebellious fun.”
She let out a snort at that, bumping her hip into his before Keith called after them, forcing the pair to pick up the pace.
“You’re wasting time,” Keith had said, eyes rolling as he waited patiently for the couple to join him and the rest of their friends.
Wasting time.
The words reverberated in her head like a chiming grandfather clock, reminding her insistently that time was, indeed, moving forward at a speed she couldn’t actually control. She was going to be a junior at Garrison University the coming fall. Lance was going to be a senior.
And then he’ll graduate by the end of spring, a hospitality degree in hand. And Pidge would be…
She thought back to that last week of class, the applications her environmental professor had handed to her one spring afternoon. Professor Chartrand had a grin spreading across her visage, eyes on Pidge.
“What’s this?” Pidge had asked, glancing over the applications. Several different organizations: all advocating for protecting the environment, clean air solutions, water and pollutant clean-up…
“Some internships I want you to look over,” said Professor Chartrand coolly, all the answers locked and loaded for any inquiry Pidge was going to throw at her. “I think you’d benefit a lot, Katie. You’re well on your way to being a leader in environmental politics. Getting your foot in the door through this… Think about it?”
Pidge blinked, eyes bouncing between the older woman and the sheets of paper in her hand, suddenly aware of the weight between her fingers-- heavy. She nodded.
“I guess I’ll have to do some research.”
It was almost getting to be too real, even when the application deadlines were months away, even when her professor insisted she didn’t have to go through with them if they weren’t what she thought she wanted.
She felt a different weight, lighter, Lance’s hand in hers, pulling her away from her thoughts when his lips pressed against her knuckles.
“You okay?” He whispered, as if he had an innate sixth sense about her mood. Not that she was particularly great at hiding her feelings, anyway.
“It’s hot,” Pidge said, which was, in fact, true. Lance gazed at her for a second.
“I really don’t think the gang’s gonna miss us if we escaped,” Lance said, finally. And he was right. The other five didn’t seem to notice how far back the couple was standing away from them as they brooded over a map Coran had swiped, discussing the different rides and attractions. She felt Lance’s hand tugging her away from their friends, weaving and bobbing carefully through the growing crowd of families, teenagers, squealing children with sugar-sticky fingers.
He led her right to the line for the ferris wheel.
Pidge rolled her eyes.
“You’re so cheesy.”
“What? You don’t think it’s going to be even a little bit romantic?”
“I didn’t say that,” Pidge teased, looping under his arm to press against his side. “I just said it was cheesy. A good cheesy.”
“Good cheesy,” Lance repeated, satisfaction in his tone. He was quick to keep the conversation moving, keep anything moving while the line stalled. “So, I was looking up restaurants around the city and I found this total hole-in-the-wall ice cream parlor if you wanted to check that out tonight? I’m buying.”
Pidge pressed a hand against her heart, a scandalized expression on her face. “And ditch Team Voltron again? Lance, please.”
“Oh, so you’d rather stay in a hotel room and watch a documentary on the History Channel with Keith?” Lance paused, furrowing his brow. “You know what? I don’t need you to answer that.”
“You secretly enjoy History Channel documentaries.”
“Not so loud. People might hear you and think I’m the nerd.”
“Oh no,” her voice began to raise. “You’re here with me instead of watching documentaries on ancient civilizations! What a bummer!”
That sent them colliding into each other in fits of giggles, hot, sticky skin touching and hands quick to jab and tease, then agreeing to armistice long enough to share a kiss, once. Twice.
The line moved slow.
So much for romantic escapades, Lance thought, shoving his free hand into the pocket of his swim trunks. He looked down at Pidge, who was now biding her time by scrolling through her social media feeds, letting out a snort every now and again at a post, showing him her favorites before aimlessly going on.
It felt as if a century passed before Lance and Pidge finally got to the end of the line, cashed in their tickets, and slid into the warm metal seat of the ferris wheel. There was a shudder as the ride groaned, moving their carriage up a few feet into the air as they waited for the next emptying carriage to board. Lance drummed his hands against the safety bar.
“Mission success,” Lance said, and Pidge bumped her knee to his in good nature.
“Right! What’s next?”
“Relaxing with my favorite girl in the entire world, naturally.” He said it with a grin, closing the small distance between them to catch her lips with his.
She tasted like cherry coke and SPF 30.
The ride jerked again, and Lance was forced to pull away, letting out a nervous laugh as their carriage moved skyward.
Pidge leaned back into the seat, quiet for a moment as the ride moved them further up. It was almost done boarding. And then she leaned into the safety bar, and the force was enough to cause the carriage to sway. “Oh my god. Yes. Lance, swing with me and I bet we can totally get it to flip a 360.”
His hands grasped the safety bar, involuntarily moving with Pidge’s swings, stomach turning somersaults. “You’re not gonna. You don’t have the guts.”
She pushed herself against the bar again, and Lance forgot how easy it was for Pidge to turn things into a challenge. And for a moment, Lance entertained her, swinging the chair with her as they swung higher towards the clouds, every groan of metal trailed by terrified and utterly bliss giggles of intrepid lovers.
His hand found hers once the ride began its natural turning, the fun of jerking the carriage all but forgotten. Carnival music continued its joyous drone over the speakers. Lance leaned out to gaze at the ocean horizon, blue and dark and seemingly infinite, sunlight kissing the waves with delicacy, intimacy. He felt the breeze against his skin, cool and gentle, a gift against the heat of the afternoon.
“God, couldn’t you just stay like this forever?” Lance whispered. Pidge leaned her head against his shoulder, and he could feel her expression change without even looking.
“I want to. So badly.”
The carriage stopped its movement, and Lance was grateful for the solitude. Summer made it hard for him to catch a moment with Pidge alone. They had families, friends who wanted to spend time with them. Not that neither complained, of course.
But they were on limited time.
Summer never used to feel so finite.
“Did you pick an internship yet?” Lance asked, and he felt Pidge sigh against him.
They’ve talked about it, of course. Lance was right there for the research, the nights staying up until dawn pouring over qualifications, expectations, mission statements. And she was there, likewise, while Lance considered graduate school, and poured over places to apply for work, and all the things you were supposed to be looking into before you graduated.
There were a lot of sleepless nights.
“They’re all pretty great, you know? I was thinking about the one in Brazil? Especially since there’s the whole study abroad program, too.”
“You have time for fall apps?”
She was quiet for a moment, letting out a deep breath. “I have time for spring apps.”
There was an unspoken realization.
She’d miss graduation.
“You should do it,” Lance said, as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. “I mean, we’ve got email.”
“You just don’t want me to see your mom crying when you walk.” She nudged him, playful, the smile on her face not quite reaching her eyes.
“Please. It’s me who’s gonna be crying.”
The ride began its second crest, and Lance and Pidge watched as they rode an imaginary surf over the horizon, dipping back down towards solid ground. She gave his hand a squeeze.
“Lance, if you want me there…”
“I want you to do something you’re going to really, really love,” Lance interrupted, and Pidge blinked in surprise. “Brazil’s going to be awesome, and you’re going to be awesome, because you’re smart and I love you. Very much.”
The ferris wheel jostled to a stop.
They were at the highest crest again, sunlight in their eyes, and Pidge took hold of Lance’s other hand, forcing him to look her way, blue eyes meeting amber.
“I love you.” Pidge said, conviction laced into her every word. “I really, really love you. But if you think you’re being noble and a great boyfriend for telling me to chase my dreams instead of being there for you on the most important day of your life, you’re super dumb.”
He took a moment to drink it in. Pidge’s hair being tossed by a gentle ocean breeze, her eyes staring into his with all the striking intensity of a falcon on the hunt. His hands tight in her grasp, and he almost didn’t realize her hands were shaking, betraying the confidence of her words. Not a weakness, but a hope he didn’t realize he needed.
It hit him like a fastball.
He gave her a curt nod. This one, confident.
“I want you at graduation.”
Said with conviction. Pidge’s expression changed, subtly, the tense grip of her fingers relaxing around his.
“I want you with my family and Hunk’s, cheering super, duper loud, so annoyingly loud that the other families around you give you dirty looks,” Lance said quickly. A beginning of a smile flickered on Pidge’s lips.
“And?”
“And then I want you to find me after and throw leis around my neck and pretend that you hate getting your picture taken when my parents tell us to smile for Facebook.”
“And?” Her smile was wider, and she was leaning in, expectant.
“And I want to kiss you. Like, super cheesy. And Mom’s definitely going to take a picture, but we’ll just roll with it, alright?”
She let out a laugh, throwing her head back, much to Lance’s delight. The ride jostled again, surprising the two of them, hands catching each other as the ferris wheel brought them closer to earth.
Another peal of laughter escaped Pidge, and then Lance.
“I can apply for next fall. It’d be good, falling right in with my senior year,” Pidge said, nodding her head.
“Okay. But, double-checking. This is okay?” Lance asked, and Pidge nodded, rejuvenated, the uneasy brontide that was on the horizon had lifted and all she could see were clearer skies. Brighter skies. The fear of wasting time subsiding as she remembered that it was nothing more than that: a fear.
Wasted time didn’t exist.
“I-- We. We have time,” Pidge said, a smile on her lips. “We have a lot of time.”
And that was good, was the mutual, unspoken agreement. It was good to have time, especially this moment alone, and before the ride could end she leaned into him for another kiss. It was warm, tender, only interrupted by the carriage coming to a stop at the end of the track, an employee waiting with an eye-roll and a mumble about public affection before Lance led Pidge off the ride, hand tight in his grip.
They snuck back into the group, almost unnoticed, before Keith caught them and raised a curious brow.
“Where were you two?”
They exchanged a glance, a mirrored smile, hands squeezing in a vice grip that Pidge had no intention of letting go of.
“You know. Just wasting time.”