Page 84 of Be Your Anything
She gives me a rare hug, and I breathe in the scent of lemongrass that will always remind me of her. Then she climbs into her fire engine red Tesla Model 3 and speeds out into the street, racing through a yellow light and zipping off.
I sigh.
I’ll try to tuck her words away for another day, one when I have the mental capacity to think everything over.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I realize I have three missed calls from Remmy.
I step to the side of the entryway so I’m a little farther away from the valet booth, and then I dial her number, my foot tapping with worry.
Remmy rarely calls me. Three calls in a row? Not a good sign.
“Hey. Lucas. Hi.”
She sounds shattered, completely unlike herself, her voice wobbly and filled with emotion.
“Hey, Rem. Everything alright?”
“Yeah,” she replies. “I’m actually… Are you busy?”
My brow furrows. “I just got done with a meeting at the country club with my mom. Why?”
She pauses. “I’m just finishing up with a few things. I just wanted to call to let you know I’ll be back in Hermosa on Monday.”
“Wait, you’re coming back to town?” I ask, confused.
“Yeah.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine,” she replies. “Totally fine.”
I don’t believe her. Something’s definitely wrong, but Remmy’s always been cagey with me over the phone. She’s much more honest in person.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. And…I have some news.”
This time, I’m the one who pauses, my body instinctively knowing she’s going to shake the foundation I’m standing on.
“I’m moving home.”
When I get home a few hours later after driving around for a while, I wander through my house without any sense of purpose or direction.
I click the TV on but don’t watch it.
Get out a bottle of water but then walk away, leaving it sitting on the counter.
Eventually, I meander down to the storage room and grab my board, heading out to the water to try to process my thoughts, my feelings.
The waves are supposed to be my therapy, and fuck if I’m not in need of a therapist right now.
The news Remmy dropped on me this afternoon…
I don’t even…know…how to feel about it.
Or maybe I know how I feel and I don’t know how to process it? Regardless, my insides feel like a mess, and the only thing that might possibly help me is spending time in the water.
She’s moving home.
