Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 117408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
I knew nothing. I was thrown back into the air like a stray leaf spinning through a hurricane. I was working a new job and feeling an entirely new spectrum of emotions. All aimed toward the man who kicked off this new part of my life. I knew absolutely nothing.
“It was my parents,” Fox began. “I wanted to get away from them.” He had his hazel-green eyes aimed out toward the horizon. “They weren’t exactly the best. I thought my only option was signing up for the army and flying across the world, as far from them as I could get.”
“Did it… did it fix the problems?”
Fox shook his head. His expression was heavy, like the memories alone weighed him down. His thick eyebrows were turned downward. There was a palpable sadness that told me the problems only got worse.
“Who would have thought?” Fox said, seeming to collect himself and mustering a smile. “Maybe a therapist would have been a better choice, but hey, can’t change the past. Means I can’t let myself regret it either.”
He amazed me, his ability to smile even when it was clear his mind had gone to a dark place. I wanted to keep asking questions, to keep diving deeper into Fox and what made him him. I wanted to, but I couldn’t.
Hell, I couldn’t even look into his eyes. I was feeling… fuck, I was getting anxious. It was like a riptide had come and dragged my mind away, pulling it into the deep dark ocean.
This was wrong. I felt so strongly for Fox, and I could feel a tug from him, too. But it couldn’t work. We wouldn’t work. I’d never… but I wanted to. So bad.
So fucking bad, I wanted Fox. It was a pull as powerful as the currents.
Which meant I had to work overtime to deny it, to push it back.
It can’t work. It won’t. We won’t.
“Check it out,” Fox said, pulling me from my spiral. “It’s a white ibis.” He lifted his hand from the water and pointed westward, toward the shore. There, with its elegant pink legs halfway covered by the foamy water, was the bird Fox had spotted. It was a beautiful bird, with a body of gleaming white feathers and a pink head, its beak long and narrow. It reminded me of a flamingo, but smaller.
It was certainly cool to look at, but I was more interested in Fox’s face, which was glowing, as if he’d spotted the sword in a stone. “I’m guessing those are rare?” I asked, finding myself growing more and more amused by how focused Fox had become on the bird.
“I’ve seen a few, but never one that big. And it’s close, too.” Fox put his hand over his eyes, shielding them from the sun, a smile on his face.
“Beautiful…”
“Isn’t it?” Fox said, still looking at the bird, unaware my full attention was turned to him.
And then the ibis spread its wings and took to the air, loud flaps drawing my eyes back toward the shore. We watched the white and pink bird fly elegantly down the shoreline, dipping and rising with the wind currents that carried it along.
“Sorry,” Fox said, seeming to snap back into our moment. “I guess this is the time where I open up about my weird hobby. I’m a bird-watcher. There. I said it.” He lifted his hands in the air. “Nothing I can do about it but own it.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you kidding? That’s not weird at all. You’re acting as if you just told me you like watching people Bates Motel style.”
His turn to laugh. “True, true. Nowhere near as bad as that.”
“Not at all. I’m actually really interested.” A tall swell of a wave pushed into us then, lifting us and carrying us closer to shore. “I guess you can say I’m… pigeon-terested…?”
A blank stare before we started to crack up. I got some salt water in my eye, but the burn was so worth it, my belly hurting from the laughs.
“That was a valiant attempt,” Fox said, wiping his face from either tears or salt water or both.
“Thank you, thank you. I’ll be out here all day. Or at least until my hands start getting pruney, then you’ll have to catch my act later.” More laughs, more of a sense that this was right. Whatever the hell “this” was…
“When did you start bird-watching?” I asked, trying not to let myself get lost in my thoughts.
“Started in the military actually. My neighbor, who practically raised me, gave me a book on bird-watching before I was deployed. I didn’t think much of it at first, but after a pretty tough day, I cracked it open and devoured it. Ever since then I’ve been obsessed.” Fox’s face was glowing. Whether that was from the sun or his happiness was difficult to say, but something that wasn’t difficult to say?