Page 42 of Rebel Summer

Day 14

“Are you planning on eating those chips right next to me this entire class?” Dax asked.

“I didn’t have time to eat,” I said, sneaking another bite of Sun Chips. Certainly not the healthiest lunch ever, but the package boasted 100% whole grain, so there was that.

“Why?”

“Because I was planning the pep rally during lunch. I have volleyball right after this. I’m going to pass out if I don’t eat something.” I looked at him and slid my backpack between us, a family-size bag of chips taking up the entire space. “Do you want some? It won’t be as noisy if we’re both chewing.”

A look of amusement crossed Dax’s face before he wiped it away.

“Was that a smile?”

“Nope.”

“It was.”

He slouched in his seat, scrolling through songs on his phone, signaling the end of our conversation.

“Dax smiled,” I sang my words, moving in as close to him as I dared. “Again.”

Dax covered his mouth with his hand and looked forward, attempting to block what I could only imagine was another smile.

T-minus 45 days to exit

Dax hours remaining: 210

A person can be a lot of things in their life. For instance, I was always the type to do my homework within the first ten minutes of being home from school. My mom used to call me studious. So, I went about the world, taking great pains to be studious. In reality, I just didn’t want my parents to have one more thing to fight about. Bed made? Yes, sir. A on that paper? Of course. In our family, we had to be good enough for bragging rights at parties, and I held that mantle very seriously.

So, when I found myself lying point blank to my dad’s face, it threw me for a loop. I had never thought of myself as a liar. I never really even considered lying, because lying was bad. And Ivy Brooks was not bad.

But after my dad’s warning, I couldn’t exactly tell him that his recently convicted daughter was going to practically be living with the one man he had warned me against. Obviously with a very important wall between our living spaces, but still. My dad certainly wouldn’t see it that way. So I told him I was staying with Cat for the rest of the summer to give him and Angela some space. To be fair, he seemed equally relieved to be rid of me.

The next morning, before work at the cafe, I packed a bag with old clothes from my closet that weren’t too out of date. Thankfully, beach and island clothes didn’t change much in ten years. Chino shorts were still flattering for an upscale look, cut-off shorts were still in, and flip-flops were still a way of life. I threw yesterday’s hair up in a ponytail, said goodbye to them both, and stepped out of the door toward freedom.

After my shift at the cafe, I worked on the Lego car for an hour before I got antsy and told Dax I needed to move in. He handed me a key and even offered to drive me up, which was surprising of him, but I declined. I only had one bag and a set of sheets I had bought at the market. I had a hard time believing my luck. On the island, it was notoriously difficult to find housing. Resort and inn stays cost families an arm and a leg, and here I was, being handed a place to stay virtually for free. Though, not because Dax was any sort of saint. He had squeezed forty more hours out of me for this tiny bit of space. It had to be worth it.

Please let it be worth it.

The salty ocean breeze tickled the hair on the nape of my neck as I picked my way toward the duplex, really hoping I didn’t see my dad’s golf cart on the road. If he were to find me, I wasn’t sure what explanation I could give him.

At the far edge of a subdivision, on the north end of the island, a small dirt road led me to a house on a secluded piece of land. The kind of house that looked like a small child’s drawing–a box shape with a triangle on top. Except, this house was divided from the tip of the roof, down the center, with a door on each side.

For a long moment, I stood, taking in my reality. My very tiny reality. It was one thing to imagine living near a person, but it was different when you realized this was basically like pitching two tents right up against each other. The walls would definitely not be thick enough to suit me. For the first time, I questioned the sanity of my quick decision to stay here.

But then I remembered who my dad was, and I got over it pretty quickly.

Exit strategy and all that.

I put the key in the lock and opened the green door on the left, bracing myself for something awful to pop out or the place to be in shambles. I reached inside and flipped on a light.

To my utter relief, a welcoming scene met my gaze.

The door opened to a living room big enough for a loveseat and a TV. Cabinets and a tiny island lined one side of the space, just past the living room, while a miniature set of stairs led toward a loft. On the opposite side of the kitchen was another door underneath the stairs, most likely a bathroom. Past the kitchen, at the back of the house, was a bedroom.

I stepped inside and closed the door, then sunk onto the couch with a happy sigh because, for the first time since I’d been back on the island, I could almost feel the tension with my dad dissipating. His eyes, constantly watching and remarking and critiquing, weren’t in this space and they never would be.

There wasn’t much to unpack. The apartment was fully furnished, thank goodness, including a special welcome bag of my favorite brand of Sun Chips and a Coke, which made me smile.

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