Flashback, Spring break, 2084 - their native dimension.
April and Beau are 21.
April hadn’t been sleeping, just lying in the dark watching the wind blow the long sheers at the patio doors. Her hair was still wet, but she'd put on dry clothes, and she was actually pretty pissed if he'd lost that bathing suit in the ocean because it was really cute and she'd spent a lot of money on it. The bedroom door opened and April knew it was Beau, his weight on that side of the bed, the smell of his clothes. “Go away,” she said.
“No.” He sat down on the bed. “We should talk.”
“I don’t want to talk.”
“I want to talk.”