He’d lived for the praise of other people. Then he’d lived for the relief the pills brought.
When it came right down to it, he didn’t have any practice living for himself.
He started to walk back toward the house, and he looked down at the notebook again. He shouldn’t look at it. But then, why not?
He was sitting there wallowing in the evidence of his own narcissism, so he might as well do it. It was probably a list of things to put in gift baskets. His probably said:no wine.
He opened up the notebook and realized he really shouldn’t have done that when he saw the list across the top.The Summer of Rory.
Climb the damn mountain.
He knew what the mountain was; she’d just told him about it. Did she really worry about stuff like that? That idea of being brave for other people? A hike that she hadn’t finished in high school?
Yes. She does. There was no hike you didn’t finish in high school, but there’s plenty you haven’t finished now.
His eyes skipped down to:Get a kiss (kiss from a stranger?).
That same uncomfortable tightness he’d felt when he looked at her pretty freckled face that first day assaulted him again.
Get a kiss.Anykiss? And why?
In spite of himself, he could imagine himself giving her that kiss. But he wouldn’t want to stop. She would be so soft...
Hell. No.
A list like this suggested a sweetness he didn’t want to corrupt. Not at all.
Get a makeover.
She didn’t need a damned makeover. She was the most beautiful thing.
Throw a tantrum.
That made him laugh. She was a sparky thing, too. He would bet she’d be terrifying if she decided to throw a tantrum. He almost wanted to see it.
There were notes down at the bottom, too.
Go to Smokey’s? (post-makeover?)
Surprise the locals > new look > go out > get kiss? > go from zero to legend (like Gideon?)
He nearly dropped the notebook.
Zero to legend.
Hell, he knew how to do that in reverse.
But this felt...this felt like something he could help with.
He could see what all this was. It had something to do with all the things that she had just been telling him. Feeling like she’d been afraid all her life, and wanting to fix it. Wanting to change the way that people saw her.
Hell, he needed that, too.
He had come here to change himself. The first person he’d seen here was Rory Sullivan. And she’d felt like an angel.
She wanted to climb a mountain? Go out to the bar? Well, hell, he could help with that. Maybe it would be...a connection to who he’d been then. Maybe it would help him find a part of himself. The guy he’d been back then when he’d defended her against her bullies.
Something closer to a hero than he’d been for a long time.