We all go home to change, and I tell Bennett and Micayla that I’ll meet them outside my house at five thirty so we can walk over to the beach together.

When Micayla and Bennett come to pick me up, they’re laughing about something. When I ask them what it is, Bennett tells me it’s some joke that Calvin heard, and they couldn’t stop cracking up about it. I didn’t ask what the joke was, because I don’t really like Calvin, and I figured I wouldn’t like the joke.

We get to the beach and Mrs. Pursuit tells us to stand behind the supply table. She hands us the sea-green SEAGATE SANDCASTLE CONTEST 2014 shirts. Micayla and I had put on ribbed tank tops, because we knew we’d have to put the contest T-shirts on over them. Bennett did not, so he has to take his shirt off. Obviously this isn’t a big deal, since he’s a guy and guys go shirtless all the time at the beach, but I laugh anyway, and his face turns bright red.

I see him shirtless at the beach all the time, but it looks so funny to me when we’re not standing on the sand about to jump into the ocean.

There are ten teams participating and lots of space for anyone who wants to sit and watch. People have been waiting all day for this, staying on the beach since early this morning just so they’d get a good seat.

One of the teams is made up of all the band members from Saturday We Tennis, and I have a feeling they’re going to win. They won last year and a few years before that too.

A few of the teams are families with little kids, the way that Mom, Dad, Grandma, and I used to participate. We’d even let Danish help. He’d make cool imprints with his paws, and we always said that was the finishing touch. Memories of him are all over Seagate Island, and even when I’m not feeling entirely sad, something reminds me of him and I get filled with a flash of sadness again, like when the waves wash over your feet really quickly and then disappear moments later.

With a few minutes to go before the contest starts, I see Mr. Brookfield coming over to us, with Calvin and Claire tagging along behind.

I’m happy to see Mr. Brookfield but not the other two. Something about them makes me nervous and defensive. They’re always criticizing Seagate, and it hurts. When you love a place so much, you can’t stand to hear even one negative word about it. It was already different enough here without Danish by my side, and now these two come out of nowhere, complain about everything, and make the summer feel shaky.

Calvin and Claire don’t even stay for the contest. They tell Bennett they’re going over to the pool to swim and lie in the sun. But Mr. Brookfield stays.

I watch him in the distance a little bit, sitting on a bench, reading some kind of science fiction novel. He doesn’t look happy, but he doesn’t look sad either. I think about what it must have been like to finally get that part in the movie, only for it to kind of disappear, and there wasn’t much he could do about it.

Mrs. Pursuit runs up to us, a whistle hanging around her neck and her frizzy brown hair in a high ponytail. She looks like an elderly middle school student, if that even makes any sense. “You all ready?” she asks us.

“I have an idea,” I tell her. Micayla looks at me, confused, but I continue anyway. “Mr. Brookfield is totally famous—his voice is the scream in so many movies I’m sure you’ve seen. What if he does his scream into your megaphone to start the contest?”

I turn around to see if Mr. Brookfield hears what I’m saying, but he’s too far away. Then it occurs to me that I probably should have asked him if he even wanted to do this.

“Do screams and sandcastles really go together?” Mrs. Pursuit asks us. “Let’s think about it for next year.”

I turn back again to check on Mr. Brookfield, and I notice that he’s dozed off on the bench.

Well, Mrs. Pursuit did say we could think about it, so that’s something. I’ll have to find the right time to suggest it to Mr. Brookfield, and then we’ll have a whole year to make it happen next summer. Maybe there are other ways to get his scream involved in Seagate life.

But it’s such a peaceful place. No one screams here usually.

The teams have an hour to build their sandcastles, and they can have as many supplies as they want. Micayla and I are in charge of manning the supply table, in case anyone needs extra shovels or pails or cool sculpting devices.

At the last minute, the person who does all the photography for Seagate events had to cancel. Mrs. Pursuit bought disposable cameras at the general store and asked Bennett if he’d be willing to take some pictures. Of course, Bennett was thrilled to do it, and even from up here, I can see him running along the sand trying to get some great action shots of teams building their sandcastles.

So Micayla and I sit at the table, not really talking. I try to think of things to say, but everything seems wrong. I don’t know why I’m having to think about things to say to her. This has never happened before.

“Bennett seems different this summer,” I say, finally. It’s been on my mind for weeks, but I haven’t really had the courage to bring it up.

“Really?” Micayla asks, and I immediately want to take it back. I feel silly for even mentioning it.

“I guess he just seems to want to hang out with Calvin more than I thought he would,” I say. “Know what I mean?”

She puts her feet up on the support beam in the folding table. “I guess so. Maybe. He’s just Bennett.” She hands a white shovel to a little kid who’s all out of breath from running over the sand. “I haven’t thought about it.”

I ponder this for a few seconds. Is it new for me to think about Bennett this much? Maybe I didn’t used to think about him at all. I wonder when this really started, and when it will stop. I wonder if there’s anything I can do about it.

I drop the subject. Then Micayla spends forever telling me this story about her brother and how his bus broke down on the way back from Washington, DC, and he ended up spending the night at the house of someone he met on the bus. It’s not really that interesting a story, but the way Micayla tells it, it sounds like a plot to some crazy movie.

Things start to feel more normal between us.

The Saturday We Tennis team wins the contest, and everyone runs down to see their sandcastle. They built it to look like a town house—tall, with square windows and a steep front stoop.

The Seagate Sandcastle Contest has loose rules—it’s not limited to only traditional castles. All kinds of homes are acceptable. And that’s what makes it different.

When the contest is over, Micayla, Bennett, and I walk home together. After Micayla and Bennett drop me off, I think more about the fact that I guess I am thinking about Bennett. And I know that sounds totally crazy—thinking about thinking about something.

Over dinner, my parents can tell I’m acting a little strange, because they keep asking me if there’s something on my mind.

I don’t want to tell them about Bennett, though. It just doesn’t feel like the kind of conversation you have with your parents.