ANDY said these words, staring across the parking lot at nothing in particular. We were changing fast then. It was summer, and we would all swim together and dry off on the hot pavement. In our swimsuits, we were exaggerated versions of ourselves. "I can't wait to be beautiful forever." said Andy. It was like we had never considered the prospect of permanence before, and now only understood it by its absence. We felt a melancholy boiling our stomaches. We imagined a future where we would finally look like our true selves, and never move again. We were hoping to be set, like the pavement we laid out on. Dreamy kids on the side walk, we were more awkward than awkward, more angular than angular, and more temporary than we knew how to wait for.