Page 78 of Writing On The Wall

“Venusaur.”

“Ethan King, did you just call me a Pokemon?”

“Ivysaur evolves into Venusaur.” He flutters his eyes dramatically.

“Don’t you dare make this a thing,” I point a threatening finger his way. “I will not be nicknamed after a Pokemon!”

“Noted.” He laughs, pulling me back down beside him. After another stretch of silence, he clears his throat before speaking. “Can I ask you something about your dyslexia?”

“You’re the only person I don’t mind asking about it.”

“Have you told anyone at school?”

I turn to the stars, a heavy sigh leaving me as I gather my thoughts. “No. I kind of just get on with it. Toby’s probably figured it out. But I think I’ve been scared that my teaching abilities will be questioned if I admit to how much extra effort I have to put in just to keep up.”

This is the first time I’ve verbally processed that fear. It’s been a tormenting motivator in the back of my mind for the past few years. Saying it out loud is like dropping some of the weight of that burden.

“I hate seeing you struggle more than you need to. I’m trying to learn everything I can about it, but I know it’s nothing to be ashamed of. And CJ would be devastated to know you’ve been hiding this and how big of a hurdle it is for you.”

“Yeah,” I breathe, not fully convinced of CJ’s understanding. I respect her and love her, but she’s got board members and parents to answer to. I’m sure there’d need to be some kind of official investigation of my abilities and techniques if this big secret got out. The thought of that kind of scrutiny makes me want to hurl.

He turns his head, pressing a warm kiss to my temple. “Would you consider talking to her?”

Considering something and planning to do something are two different things. I nod yes, because considering something is non-threatening. It only happens in my head.

“Feed me chocolate while we stare at the stars?”

“Can I do this first, though?” He shifts, cupping my jaw with a hand as he brings his mouth to mine. Never in a million years would I have thought I’d be making out with my hot boyfriend in a hammock at ten PM on a school night.

But here we are, wrapped up in each other’s arms while I get thoroughly kissed. Eventually, we come up to somewhatuntangle ourselves. I fall asleep, gazing up at the stars, feeling lighter than I have in a long time.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

ETHAN

I’m in heaven—total bliss.

Enveloped in the comforting embrace of sleep beside the woman who’s come to embody my deepest desires. Yet that euphoria begins to fade as I’m awakened by movement, and I crack my eyes open, witnessing said woman’s discreet departure from the warmth of our shared cocoon. The one we created within the plush confines of the hammock I purchased with the hopes of this very moment, minus the woman sneaking away.

“Ivysaur, where ya goin’?” my voice rumbles, disturbing the dark night.

A sudden thud resonates, followed by the muttered names of former presidents.

“I need to pee. And I refuse to respond to that name.” She whisper shouts into the darkness.

“Hang on, I’ll walk you to the house.”

“I’ll be fine. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

I release a throaty chuckle. “If you think I’m letting my coordinately challenged girlfriend navigate her way past aswimming pool in the dead of night, you’re very mistaken, Marsh.”

A few seconds pass as she seems to contemplate the accuracy of my words. “I concede. Lead the way.”

I grab her hand before walking her inside and making a mental note to put in some small solar lights for a pathway to the house once the hedge is down.

Once Ivy is done, we amble our way back to the hammock, and I pull her close, covering us in the warmth of the blankets. It doesn’t take long before we’re both asleep again. This really is the stuff of dreams. I know without a doubt I’m currently living inthe good old days. I’ll look back on this night with vivid clarity, grateful that I had the common sense to know a good thing when it was in my arms. And hopefully, she’ll still be in my arms in the years to come.

But when morning arrives, I still don’t get the slow, sleep drunk cuddles I desperately want with this pixie I’m falling for. Instead, I’m startled awake by a whack on my chest.

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