He was just a shitty human being.
He’s not so shitty anymore.
“You never answered my question from earlier. Is he more attractive than he was five years ago?”
I cross my arms as my cheeks grow warm. “I can say without a doubt Noah Kaplan has gotten more attractive since the last time I saw him.” My voice is full of sarcasm.
Why the hell did I just admit that out loud?
I tilt my head, raising my shoulder up a bit, so my head touches it.
Bella licks her lips. “I say this because I love you, and I want to be honest with you,” she tells me as she puts the key into the ignition. “You’re so fucked.”
“Thank you for that. There’s just something I don’t understand. Why did all this have to happen now? Why did I choose now to do this?”
“Choose now to do what? Realize you might actually have feelings for Noah? Like, romantic feelings? Not the kind of feelings where you want to punch him in the face?”
I shrug.
As we drive, Bella stops bugging me about Noah as I take in the views of Sunset Cove.
It’s a picturesque coastal small town with beaches and palm trees. The water is crystal clear blue with giant waves constantly crashing onto shore. The palm trees are standing proud and tall.
Our town is a hub for artists of all kinds and has been for decades. The art community keeps growing every single year. That’s why Sunset Cove University offers so many incredible art programs for its students. As a creative individual, I’m very thankful I have access to them.
I’m grateful I was able to grow up in a town where I could walk to Loggerhead Beach from my house. Not a lot of people can say they had that. I am one of the lucky ones that can say they did.
Loggerhead opens a floodgate of memories.
There’s one in particular I will always remember.
It was my seventh birthday.
Dad thought it would be fun to take Mom and me to the beach. The Kaplans joined us, including Noah. Probably because his parents forced him to go.
Lizzie and I built sandcastles for hours. We had our plastic shovels and molds to help us out.
Noah was miserable until he decided to run over our sandcastle masterpieces.
I was devastated. I gave him the dirtiest look while he was laughing like a villain from a cartoon movie. I got up and chased him a good distance down the beach until he just stopped running. He stopped right in front of me and stuck his tongue out at me.
For that, I punched him in the face.
His nose was bleeding.
I got yelled at.
He got yelled at.
Over the years, our teasing became dubbed as War of Words. We’d just obliterate each other with words. I looked forward to it, especially after my dad’s passing. It distracted me from the grief-filled thoughts that consumed me every single day until it all came to a sudden halt.
Five years to be exact.
We’re not those seven-year-old kids anymore.
Sometimes I miss being that age. It would be nice to not have to worry about responsibilities and hone in on a career that will help me live a stable life.
When you’re a kid, everything seems so easy. You don’t have to worry about paying bills, searching for a healthcare plan, or going to work to be able to afford rent and other necessities.