Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 137572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 688(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 459(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 688(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 459(@300wpm)
After giving ourselves the tour, Vann and I come back out to the porch and sit on its front step, very much like the way we sat on my porch at home. “It’s got a lot of character,” Vann notes. “I’d say you could get a pretty penny for it, if you wanted. Right on the coast. Nice location. My parents likely have connections that could help spruce this house up, flip it, and—”
“I don’t want to sell it.”
Vann’s eyes flash, as if worried he might have overstepped and jumped the gun. “Sorry. That was really insensitive of me. You just seemed so calm about all of this, I wasn’t sure how you felt.”
“No, no. It wasn’t insensitive. It was good thinking.” I put my arm around him and pull him into me. “I’m so glad you’re here with me, Vann. It’s strange. I know I used to come to this beach town when I was ten, but … I wonder if … if some four-year-old version of myself also came to this town with my mom and … and my biological dad. It’s so strange, how this place has a happy sort of spirit infecting my every thought. A familiar spirit. One I know.”
“I always feel that way when it comes to the beach …”
I turn to him. “Of course. Having been raised on the beaches of California, it’s in your blood. I bet you miss it.”
He smiles. “Badly. Man, this feels like home already.”
I take in the atmosphere, breathe in the salty air, and come to a sudden realization. “Do you ever … feel like you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be? I have spent so much time trying to find out where I belong … and I just realized that you’re the one and only person who makes me feel like I belong exactly where I am—as long as you’re here with me.”
“Funny. I get the same feeling with you.” Vann snorts as he gazes up at the cloudless sky, for a moment appearing amazed at the sight. “I’ve lived in a bunch of places. I’ve made and unmade a lot of friends. But you?” He brings his eyes down to mine, and for a moment, their darkness is filled with nothing but light. “You make me feel right at home just with the grip of your hand in mine.”
“I’m really glad you feel that way,” I tell him, “because what I’m gonna say next is … a little crazy.”
He blinks. “A little crazy …?”
“Yeah. Big crazy. Major, huge, insane crazy.”
“Please keep me in suspense even longer.”
I take a breath—a long and steeling breath—then let it out. “I can see us living here.”
He flinches. “Living …? Us? Wait. You want to actually—?”
“Yes,” I state at once, tiny waves of excitement crashing over me not unlike the ones crashing on the shore just down the road. “We can live off the money my dad left me until we start making some of our own. Maybe even use some of it to fix this place up. And you,” I go on, riding my high, “always wanted to go back to the beach. I know it sounds crazy, to consider moving into a house that literally just fell into your lap, but … but I just have this really strong, powerful instinct about this place. Don’t you?”
Vann’s eyes, alight with the dream I just painted him, turn to the scenery before us—the colorful houses that line the road, the beach at its end with friendly faces, gay couples, crashing waves, and endless breeze …
And then he starts to nod, seeing the dream. “I bet a place like this has an arcade ready for your high scores, too.”
I laugh. “Funny you say that, I’m actually certain it does. This town is full of artists, too. A flea market. Jewelers. We could make art here together and sell our work.”
“I bet a beach town like this has a constant flow of tourists,” he points out. “It’ll never be stale. We’ll always get our work sold. I even saw a college campus nearby on the way here.”
“What if they have computer programming classes? Or game design courses? You could start up that game company you always wanted. And I’ll do the 3D graphics!”
“Yes! And after a day at school, we’ll get dinner at one of the family-owned seafood cafés featuring the day’s catches here …”
“While watching the sunset,” Vann adds, gazing dreamily into the sky as if the sun is already setting for us, igniting the endless, sparkling, waterfront horizon. “Our friends can visit us, too.”
“Yeah! It isn’t that far from Spruce. Kelsey practically grew up on the streets of a casino town by the beach. She’d love it here.”
“A place like this is rich with inspiration.” Vann is still lost in the dream, smiling. “We’d never run dry.” Then he eyes me. “Mrs. Tucker is gonna kill you when you put in your two weeks’. I bet she’s expecting you to work the summer, at the very least.”