“Denver has nothing to offer me. There’s nothing that I want to do.”
“Fine, we can figure it out together when we go back home and think things through—do our research, find what’s right for you. But we need to act fast.”
“Why we?” My dad was clearly missing the point of me being out on my own. “And why can’t I do my research here?”
“Well, have you? Have you done anything to plan out what you’re going to do…” His eyes drifted back and forth as if calculating. “…six weeks from now?”
He had me there. I had just admitted to not wanting to go back home after the summer was over, which was slowly creeping up, and I had nothing to back me up. My dad sat on the edge of Rachel’s bed with his arms crossed and lifted his eyebrows questioningly. I always hated it when he did that.
“No,” I answered quietly.
“Do you want to go to school out here?”
The way he saidout herewas as if I’d stumbled on some deserted area where only zombies crawled around.
“No,” I said, this time frowning at the question.
“Okay. Did you want to stay here and work at the club all year round and not go to school?” he asked calmly, as if it were something he’d be open to.
“No!” I answered quickly and sternly.
He stood and walked over to me. “Pumpkin.” He put his hand on my shoulder. It was what he said and did when he was trying to comfort me but still make me see things his way. “You’re not ready for this. It was an admirable attempt, but I don’t want to see you waste a year or two or the next five because I didn’t do anything to help you when you needed me.”
He was right. The last month that I’d spent in Madison seemed to have collapsed over me. It felt as rough and hard as when I’d crashed into the water after leaping forty feet from the edge of a cliff. Like my life was flashing before me. I couldn’t believe that he was right. And it wasn’t just my dad. Chris had tried to warn me too. All this time, I was hoping the pop-up ad in my laptop was a sign. I remember being desperate for that sign right after finals were over—anything that could lead me someplace far and new. And what ended up happening is I literally took anything.
I shook my head. I didn’t want to accept it. I didn’t want to accept that what had felt so right to me the entire time was turning out to be a…waste of time?
“I need to go.” I ran out, shutting the door behind me and leaving my worried father in the darkened room.
I ran down the same deck I had moments ago. I felt like a different person, a completely lost person who knew and understood nothing except what she had back home.
The rain started to come down even harder. The deck drummed with every step I took over the scattered puddles. I finally ran down the last set of steps and onto the boardwalk.
It wasn’t until the thick raindrops hit my head that I realized I’d left my umbrella back at the room when I went back for it. I threw my hood over my head and continued down the path to Bays Café, where Rick had been waiting for me. I watched the rain fall on the beach as I ran. The sand displayed tiny polka dots, jumping like beads on a bare floor. I felt a chill go down my spine when the first sound of thunder struck. I put my head down and picked up the pace. I lifted my head every few seconds to consider the distance left to my destination.
Suddenly I felt myself crash hard into a male body. I bounced back and he grabbed my arms to steady me. I didn’t need to look up to know it was Rick.
“Whoa,” he called.
I looked up at him. His face was dripping, and his clothes were soaked. He was wearing jeans and the same hooded jacket I’d first seen him in that night at the pool.
“What are you doing here?” I shouted over the combined sound of the thick raindrops falling onto the wooden boards and the crashing waves a few yards away. “I thought we were meeting at the café.”
“Yeah, twenty minutes ago.” He sounded angry, regardless of the thunder that had struck again.
“I’m sorry.” I stared, breathless. “I forgot my umbrella, so I went back for it and then…” I stopped, debating if I should tell him about my father’s surprise visit.
Rick frowned, scanning me head to toe as if to point out that I wasn’t carrying the umbrella I had supposedly gone back to get. I was about to explain why when he took my hand and led me to an awning-enclosed corner storefront on the boardwalk, a closed-for-business bar and grill that must have offered outdoor seating at one point.
Rick leaned me against the cold brick wall. I turned away from him and toward the ocean. I felt restless and emotionally drained. I gazed out into the dark clouds as they fell lower. I hoped for more thunder to drown out the sobs I felt at the top of my throat.
He leaned in close to me and put his hand on my cheek. “Look, I don’t care that you were late,” he said softly. “But you look like you’re about to fall apart. Is there anything I can do?”
I burst out in a short laugh, and the first strand of tears fell. I felt Rick flick one off my chin. “No,” I said flatly. “There’s nothing you can do.”
“Okay, is it me?”
That made me burst. “Why is everyone so self-absorbed?” I pushed him off me. But his expression wasn’t shock or anger, to my surprise. He just let his hands fall to his side and watched me—patiently, and with no trace of judgment.
