Page 2 of Stranded With An Insatiable Shifter

I barely slept. I was never in nature. I didn’t even have time to jog in Central Park.

All I did was work.

I stumbled across a girl online who had converted an old school bus into a home, or a skoolie as it’s called, and traveled around, staying in the most spectacular places. Pretty soon, my feed was full of bold adventurous people like that.

I realized that watching those videos was the only time I felt happy all day long.

I told myself I’d do something like that when I retired, but then one day I looked at my bank account and realized I didn’t have to wait. I could afford to do it now.

So, I quit my perfect job in the perfect city and sold my perfect condo.

My grandmother let me move in with her on her hobby farm outside of Warwick and I bought this old school bus to convert into a skoolie.

“How are you even going to convert this monstrosity?” she asks while grimacing at it.

“I’ll figure it out,” I say with a smile.

All I’ve done so far is buy the battery and electrical system, but I’m learning new things every day. Tomorrow, I’m going to start taking out the seats with my grandfather’s old tools.

There’s a lot to do, but I’m so excited for all of it. I’ve never felt so alive.

“You’ll figure it out, huh?” she says with a sarcastic shrug. “Just like that. You’ve never even held a hammer and you’re going to make a house on wheels?”

I know she’s just looking out for me in her own Carly way. She just doesn’t see my vision. That’s okay. Maybe one day, she will.

“And where are you going to go?”

“I’ll just drive,” I say with a grin. I can already feel the clean mountainous air on my skin. I can hear the scratchy radio and feel the excitement of rolling into a new place and not knowing what to expect.

“Are you sure you’re not on drugs?”

I laugh. She doesn’t.

My family are all lawyers, so I’m used to them arguing until they win. It can go on for a while, so I kneel down with the battery pack and start fiddling with it while she continues.

“What about a boyfriend, huh, Jemma? Did you think about that? How are you ever going to meet a guy who’s not busless?”

“It’s not like I met anyone in New York,” I tell her with a bitter taste in my mouth. “If I can’t find a guy in a city of eight million people, it’s hopeless anyway.”

I didn’t always think like that. I used to be so excited to meet ‘the one.’ The perfect man who would sweep me off my feet. I thought I’d meet him in New York City, but I’m twenty-eight and he hasn’t come along.

I don’t care. I’m over it.

I’m starting to think that ‘the one’ doesn’t exist. He isn’t out there. He never was.

“I’m doing this for me, Carly,” I tell her. “And I’m not looking for anyone’s approval. I spent my life doing things for everyone else’s approval and look where it got me.”

“An incredible career in the best city in the world?”

“It got me miserable. And I’m done being miserable.”

Grandma comes walking out holding a tray with three glasses of lemonade on it. I’ve never been so happy to see her.

“Carly, I thought I saw you arrive,” she says with a warm smile.

“Hi, Grandma,” Carly says as she goes over and kisses her cheek. “I just came to talk some sense into my sister.”

“It seems like she’s finally making sense to me,” Grandma says as she puts the tray down.

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