Page 142 of Sharkbait
I pull out a plane ticket with her name on it and place it in her hand.
“We can be whatever we want to be.”
Her mouth drops open as she stares down at the piece of paper.
I continue, “There’s going to be boat rides and beach parties and… what if we offered painting workshops too? You could do that, Lou! Can you imagine? You on the beach, combining art and the ocean like you’ve always wanted to? It would be amazing. You could—”
“Corbin Bellows sent me an email yesterday giving me my scholarship back and offering me the Florida Keys internship this spring.” She cuts me off.
I let that sink in for a moment.
“That’s—That’s, um—” I swallow. “What did you tell him?”
“I told him thank you. And that I accept.”
I nod in understanding.
But I’m not a guy who gives up easily.
Not on her.
Not on us.
“Tell him you’ve changed your mind,” I say.
“Excuse me?”
“Tell him you’ve changed your mind! Lou, I saw you jugglingthose long hours at school and simultaneously working full-time at the aquarium. You weren’t happy.”
“What, I shouldn’t work hard?” she scoffs.
“No, of course you should—if that’s what you want—but you weren’t happy! You were stressed. You were unsure of yourself. You were in near constantJeopardymode and dragging yourself from one obligation to the next.” I soften my voice. “When you started experimenting with Meilani, though? When you built up that amazing portfolio? When you auctioned off those paintings at the arts festival and raised all that money for a good cause? Baby, you glowed. You were shining from the inside out. We could create that kind of life together. Full time. You could feel that way every day.”
“I need to get out of this car,” she says and flings the passenger side door open.
“Fine. Yeah, let’s take a walk.” I exit my side of the car and hustle behind her down the dirt road.
“Alone, James! I want to be alone!”
“I don’t believe you,” I shout. “You don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to be alone. We want to be together. Really together this time. We can make that happen!”
She stops walking and whips around to face me. “You were supposed to be one night! That’s all I ever wanted from you. But you had to keep pushing it!”
“Pushing what? When did I ever push you into anything?”
“Um. Every second?” She throws her hands up.
“That’s bullshit, and you know it, Lou. Every step of the way, I have been taking my cues from you.” She shakes her head. “Don’t gaslight me. Don’t do that.”
“Gaslight you? Cold Brew, I’m—I don’t know what you’re—”
What the hell is happening here?
“Take a breath with me, will ya? However you’re feeling is one-hundred-percent valid, but I need a minute to catch up with where you’re at right now. Can we just… take a breath?”
“How I’m feeling is one-hundred-percent valid?” she says quietly, like those words are completely foreign to her.
“Yes. Of course. How you feel is how you feel. I might justneed a little help to get on the same page and understand.”
