Love, Lucas (11 page)

We say goodbye and I hang up the phone.

Normally, when I was feeling down, he’d give me a hug or pat me on the shoulder before leaving me. My stomach drops. I wonder if going from parent to parent and being in the middle of their fights will be a permanent thing. I hope they’re working it out. I’m sure the stress of losing their only son has taken its toll on their marriage, but we’re a family. Families are supposed to work things out.

The rest of the day is uneventful. After running to the store, getting a few pictures developed, and hanging them on my wall, I spend most of my time pacing the floor in my room, trying to figure out what to do with myself.

By the time ten o’clock rolls around, everyone’s in bed. Jo was at work all day, Mom spent most of the day in her room again, and I haven’t seen Carson since he went to work yesterday. I don’t want to admit I miss hanging out with him. Especially since it’s only been a day since I saw him. I don’t want to feel like that. It seems needy. And I’m not a needy person.

I should probably change into my pajamas and go to sleep. Maybe I’ll practice my surfing stance tomorrow morning on the beach. Or I could stand in the small waves and practice balancing. It’s not like I have anything else to do.

A small tapping noise comes from my French doors. Curious, I walk over and peek through the curtain.

It’s Carson. Holy crap—I look hideous.

I brush my hair out of my face, take a quick glance in the mirror next to me, decide nothing will help, and open the door. “Hey,” I say.

“Hi.”

“Sneaking into Jo’s backyard now?”

He grimaces. “Sorry about that. I should get your number so I can text you.”

“No worries. What’s up?”

“I know it’s late, but I saw your light on and wondered if you wanted to go for a walk with me.” He swallows and his lips part slightly.

It
is
late. But it’s also really tempting to leave. A hot guy sneaking out just to hang out with me? Like I’m not going to go. “Let me grab a jacket or something. You can come in.”

He steps inside and looks around. His eyes go to the pictures on the wall above my headboard. “Wow. You really do take awesome pictures.”

I shrug. “Not really.”

He eyes me with a strange expression. “No. Really.” He walks over to my bed and inspects them. “I recognize this guy,” he says. His expression is strange. He’s smiling but looks a little annoyed.

“Yes, that’s Dillon. But I have a bunch of other surfers on there too.” I’m not sure why I say that. I doubt he’s jealous or anything but I find myself wanting to make sure he doesn’t think my focus is ever on Dillon on purpose.

He laughs. “These are really good. You should sell some of them to a magazine or something.”

I laugh and grab a hoodie out of the closet. “Trust me. No one would want those.”

When I turn around, he’s right in front of me. He stares down at me with a frown on his face. “You don’t give yourself enough credit,” he says. “Why can’t you just say thank you when someone compliments you?”

I’m not sure what to say, but I do know I’m staring. His gaze is unflinching and serious but I can see a hint of a smile as well. “I—uh—thanks. I guess.” I avoid his eyes and step around him. “You ready to go?”

“Do you have to let your mom know where we’re going?”

“She doesn’t care.” I slide on my flip-flops and walk out the door. He follows me and shuts it softly behind him. It’s dark but we head down to the beach anyway. There are some lights on the boardwalk, so we can at least see a little bit. I slip on my hoodie. It’s not too cold but I feel more snug in it. “So, where’re we going?” I ask.

He shrugs. “I just like the beach at night. It’s not as . . . eventful as it is during the day. No people running around splashing in the water. It’s nice. Relaxing.”

“Makes sense.”

We walk in comfortable silence as I kick the cold sand and smile. I haven’t felt this calm for a while. I attempt to keep my worries and thoughts of Lucas away for a moment and just think of the beautiful place I’m living. Carson’s right. It’s much more relaxing at night.

We keep walking and I glance up. The lights on Huntington Pier grow bright as we get closer and I can hear the waves crashing into it as well. “This is such a pretty place,” I say.

“It is. Why don’t you tell me what
your
place is like?”

“Utah?”

He nods. “I’ve never been.”

“It’s not as cool as here. Lots of mountains, grass, a lot of snow in the winter.”

“I may take you up on having your dad ship you some snow.”

“Trust me. It’s nice to look at but it gets old quick. And it’s so cold. I’m not a fan of the cold.”

“You chose the wrong place to live then.” He chuckles.

“My parents chose the wrong place to live.” I smile. “But it’s home, I guess.”

“Maybe I can convince you to stay here longer. Since you can’t stand the cold and all.”

“I do enjoy warm weather.” I laugh. “I sound like I’m fifty.”

“You don’t look it.” His fingers brush my hand and before I know it, they’re entwined with mine. He looks over and gives me a small smile. “Is this okay?”

I smile a little too and nod. His hand warms mine and I can’t help but notice how well they fit together. Which is stupid. I’m sure all hands fit together the same. I think back to the only guy I’ve ever held hands with. Back before Lucas got sick. It wasn’t like this at all. He was kind of weird. And his hand was sweaty and gross. Obviously things didn’t work out.

Carson points up ahead. “My sister and I used to play under the pier when we were little. Not at night since the tide is so high, but my mom would bring us down and we’d run around the posts and hide from each other. Or we’d try picking barnacles off them with sticks. That was always fun.”

“Barnacles. Those weird little shell things, right?”

“Yeah. Have you never seen one?”

I shake my head. “Not in person, just in pictures.”

“I’ll show you sometime. They’re pretty weird, but I was obsessed with them as a kid.”

“Boys. Always obsessed with weird things.”

He laughs and squeezes my hand. “So, what did you do in high school besides swimming? Anything interesting?”

“Not really. What about you?”

“Oh, come on. I’m sure there’s something you did.”

“Nothing worth mentioning. You already know I play guitar, swim, and take pictures. What about you?”

He shrugs. “I played a little football.”

I knew it. I don’t know how I did, but I knew it. “Cool.”

He smiles. “Not a fan of football?”

“Not really.”

“Makes sense. You still seem like a choir girl to me.” He looks at me out of the corner of his eye and chuckles at my expression.

“I’ve already confessed that I can’t sing.”

“You can’t be
that
bad.”

“Really. I’m horrible.”

He chuckles. “I’d still like to hear you, even though you think you suck.”

“Not gonna happen,” I say. “Really. It’s pitiful. My brother is an awesome singer.” I realize what I’ve said and sigh. Was.
Was
an awesome singer.

“My sister’s like you say you are. She can’t sing at all. It’s hilarious.” His eyes widen. “Not that it’s funny that
you
can’t sing, I just like making fun of
her
.”

“Right,” I say, letting the sarcasm drip. “Like I said. No singing in front of you. Ever.”

“Ah, you’re no fun.” He nudges me with his shoulder.

I let go of his hand and stop to slip my flip-flops off and walk out near the water. I love feeling the wet sand between my toes. It’s kind of like a pedicure. Carson does the same but leaves his flip-flops on.

“How’s your foot?” I ask. I haven’t seen him surfing yet but the bandage is gone.

He shrugs. “Better. I still have the cut covered, just a small bandage though. It itches.”

“That means it’s healing.” At least that’s what my dad always told me when I got hurt. “I think.” I smile, knowing I have no idea what I’m talking about.

“Thank you, Dr. Nelson.”

I chuckle. “I’m glad to be of service.”

We walk in easy silence, enjoying each other’s company. There are a lot of people out. A few walking dogs on the boardwalk. There are several couples holding hands, like us, and a few on the beach tucked under blankets doing who knows what. I see a few kids with their parents and wonder why they aren’t in bed, but obviously it’s none of my business. I smile at a family as they walk by us. Everyone I’ve seen so far has one thing in common: they look so happy. So at peace with the world.

I stare out into the dark, catching the glimmer of boat lights every now and then. That’s what my life is like right now. Dark, but with a glimmer of hope on the horizon. I’m trying to move on. Trying to forget what I’ve been through, but I know it will take some time. At least I’m feeling a little normal again. Whatever normal is.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I look over and Carson isn’t looking at me but I know he’s been watching me.

“Not really.” I should. I really should talk about it. Maybe it would help, but it’s too new. Too fresh on my mind. I can’t do it. Not yet.

“Whatever it is that makes you sad, I’m sorry.” He glances at me, a serious expression on his face. “You can talk to me, you know.”

“I barely know you.” It’s true. We both know it. Yet I feel more comfortable with him than I ever have with anyone else. Which is strange. I’m not used to trusting so easily.

His eyes lighten and I catch a small smile. “Why don’t we change that? What do you want to know?”

I think for a moment and stop walking. “Hmmm . . .” I start. “Let me think for a minute.” I squish my toes in the sand. The water covers my feet and I shiver. I feel the pull of the ocean as the wave goes back in. It tries to pull me with it but I let my feet sink deeper. I look up to find Carson watching me. The corner of his mouth twitches but he says nothing. “What?” I ask.

“Are you having fun?”

“Yes.” I realize I’m supposed to be thinking of a question. “So, you sort of own your own surf shop. Are you going to do that for a living?”

It’s lame but the only thing I can think of. I’m surprised when he frowns.

“I don’t know.” He scratches his head and stares at the water.

Curious at his reaction, I keep going. “You don’t know? Don’t you like it there?”

He nods. “It’s fine. I just don’t want to be stuck there forever. I want to go to college.”

I think back to one of the first conversations we ever had. “A marine veterinarian, right?”

“Right. It’s just . . .” He hesitates and then sighs. “My dad wants me to take over permanently. Run the surf shop for him. It’s a family thing and it does very well, but that’s not what I want to do forever. It’s his dream to see me take over and expand the store. To pass it down to my kids and keep it going. And I don’t want to do it.”

“Have you talked to him about it?” I don’t know why I’m attempting to give advice. I can’t even talk to my own parents.

He shrugs. “He doesn’t really listen. Don’t get me wrong, I love the guy, but . . . I just have different goals than he does.”

I put a hand on his arm and the motion shocks even me, but I leave it there. “You should talk to him again. You could work through college running the shop but then he has to understand you have your own dreams.”

“That’s the problem. He never went to college and thinks it’s a waste of money.” He lets out an annoyed laugh. “Unless I go into business because that will help the shop. He just doesn’t understand why I’d go to school for anything else since I’m basically being handed a full-time job for the rest of my life.” He lets out a frustrated sigh. “Can we talk about something else?”

I’m still curious but nod anyway. I look down at my feet and try to move. I’ve sunk well past my ankles and if I pull one foot out, I’ll probably fall over. That would be super awesome. “Um . . . a little help?”

He laughs and grabs my hand, pulling me out. I somehow trip over my own feet and crash into his chest. He grabs me around the waist to steady himself but we both fall over anyway.

The side of my face slams into the cold sand. I let out a surprised scream as a little wave comes in and I feel cold water seeping through my jeans. Carson is laughing his head off next to me as I stand up.

I glance at my butt, noting the wetness. Nice. “Great. It looks like I peed my pants.”

“Me too,” he says with a laugh,

I can taste grains of sand in my mouth so I rub my lips with my hand to try and get the saltiness off.

“That didn’t quite go as planned,” he says, brushing sand out of his hair.

“No kidding.” I spit sand out of my mouth as I think of how many people probably walked on it that day.

Disgusting.

“That was attractive.”

I glare at him. “What was I supposed to do? It was in my mouth!” I walk over to dry sand and sit down, knowing full well it’ll be stuck to my wet pants the rest of the night. Oh well.

He laughs again as he takes a seat next to me and we ease into comfortable silence.

The stars are beautiful tonight. I don’t remember the stars being so bright in Utah. Maybe I just didn’t pay attention. I never had time to pay attention.

Carson’s leg brushes mine and I realize how close we’re sitting. I study him as he looks down the beach. Before I let myself get too comfortable, I wipe my sandy hands off and stand. “I should probably be getting back.”

He looks disappointed and opens his mouth to say something but shuts it. He stands, hesitates a second, and takes the hand I offer him. “You’re right.”

Even though I say I need to get back, we take our time. Twenty minutes later, we make our way through the back fence of Jo’s house. Carson walks me to my bedroom door and I silently start freaking out. It’s the doorstep scene all over again. I gulp and take a deep breath before I turn to face him. “Thanks for the walk. I needed it tonight.”

He shrugs. “Anytime.” He searches my face and clears his throat. “I’ll . . . uh . . . see you tomorrow then.”

“Okay.” I pull my hand away. It tingles from his touch and I’m surprised how much I want him to stay.