Maybe I will.
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Nick throws water down my neck.
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He only understands infinity on math papers.
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I let Cat out of the basket and strip off my splashed shirt and chase Nick along the edge of the water.
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No need to worry about Cat.
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He chases right along with us, and every time a wave catches his feet he hisses and hightails it up the beach.
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Then he rolls himself in the hot, dry sand and gets up and shakes.
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There are a few other groups of people dotted along the beach.
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A big mutt dog comes and sniffs Cat and gets a right and a left scratch to the nose.
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He yelps and runs for home.
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Cat discovers sand crabs.
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Nick and I roll around in the sand and wrestle, and after a while we get hungry, so we go back where we left the basket.
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Cat is content to let me carry him.
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Three girls are having a picnic right near our basket.
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One yells to the others, "Hey, look! The guy went swimming with his cat!"
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Cat jumps down, turns his back on them, and humps himself around on my sweater until he is settled for a nap.
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I turn my back on the girls, too, and look out at the ocean.
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Still, it's not the same as it would have been a year ago.
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Then Nick and I would either have moved away from the girls or thrown sand at them.
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We just sit and eat our sandwiches.
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Nick looks over at them pretty often and whispers to me how old do I think they are.
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I can't tell about girls.
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Some of the ones in our class at school look about twenty-five, but then you see mothers pushing baby carriages on the street who look about fifteen.
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One of the girls catches Nick's eye and giggles.
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"Hi, there, whatcha watching?"
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