Page 107 of Faking Forever 1
patio underneath the pavilion, huffing and puffing drastically.
Prince charming himself, right on time.
“I knew it was you—you move faster than I thought.” he pants, chuckling as water drips from his hair while he stands there, catching his breath.
Pushing myself from the table, I run in his direction, grabbing him for dear life, squeezing our soaking wet bodies together.
“You’re my saving grace—I thought I would be stuck here,”
I say, continuing to squeeze him while ramming my words together.
“Chill, Paisley,” he takes my shoulders, pushing our bodies away slightly to look at me, “Not even in thedeadliestdisaster would I let something happen to you. I love you too much to lose you now.”
For a second, we gazed at each other, him pressing our bodies back together. The wind wasn’t as pleased as we were, as it started violently howling again. This time, it sent an enormous crack through the pavilion’s roof, shaking all four of the legs that held it up. The wood is just too old.
“We need to get to the greenhouse!” Josh yells over the wind, covering my head and moving us forward.
“It’s still so far, and we’ll never make it!” I yell back, following beside him.
“We’re gonna make it! We need to move! Now!” he asserts to me, moving us faster now.
We were running together now—fingers locked together like it was our last moment, as if the rain was never pelting down.
He was right. He’s always right these days—it’s all so opposite.
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Once we started to run, with him pulling me most of the way, I felt more powerful because I wasn’t doing this alone anymore in the sense that he always leads the way. I never have to think about anything because he guides me. Rarely am I ever paying attention, though I think this is the first time I have done so.
We made it to the beach, or what was left of it. So many stores had fallen apart, but Stillman’s stood tall. The roof was on the verge of possibly giving out, but we had just enough time to run in and get dry before going into the greenhouse.
We both jumped down multiple stairs, trying to skip steps.
Josh rummaged through his pocket simultaneously, pulling his keys out. His fingers were shaking and nail beds discolored, as he was seemingly cold, yet he kept moving.
“Here it is, here it is,” he says triumphantly, shoving the key into the door and unlocking it.
His hand presses on the small of my back when he opens it, pushing me in first and quickly locking it behind us. It was chilly in the hut but not as chilly as it had gotten outside. The bamboo on the walls wasn’t exactly fitting for cold weather.
My first thought was to grab anything from the clothing section. There were all sorts of fishing pants, swimsuits, sweatshirts, and other things to pick from that advertised the store. I grab two of everything and a few towels, too, then return to the front of the store to find Josh.
“Put these on, and then we can go into the greenhouse and wait,” I say, putting the clothes on the work table.
“It’s fucking freezing…” he responds in a wobbly voice, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it from inside his belt line.
“I know. So change fast. We’ll use towels as blankets.” I glance at him as I try to peel my clothes off my skin.
The sand was mushy under my feet from the flooding. It 261
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felt like quicksand—it was awful. I slithered into a giant sweatshirt, followed by the enormous pants. Drowning in them, I reached behind the cash register and grabbed flip-flops of my size.
“I’m gonna open the door and get our shit in there before things get more hectic,” Josh says, running to the door to the greenhouse as he puts his sweatshirt on.
Hopping down from the counter, I scoop up two lanterns before going back there to join him. He gets the door unlocked and goes right for a bench, draping towels over it. With the few towels draped over it, holdingmoretowels, one being used to dry his hair, he plops down on it. He had boots on, too—
