I knew what Saint Dane was sensing. I knew why he was confused. he thought I was done. He thought we were done. He was wrong, and that’s what he was sensing. He felt our presence.
I felt as if I learned a few things. I learned that it’s sometimes okay to think like a weenie, so long as you don’t act like one—at least not all the time. I learned that it’s okay to be wrong, as long as you can admit it and are willing to listen to those who may know better.
Trolling for girls at the beach was okay by me, but I didn’t want it to be our sole focus. Besides, the girls I liked had more interesting things to do than spend every waking moment sitting around at the beach comparing tans.
