She nods quietly. “Wish my parents ever thought to take us somewhere like this. Somewhere away from all the noise and standards and people.”
“Childhood me would’ve disagreed.”
She snorts. “Not if ‘childhood you’ had to sit under a beach cabana, pretending adult conversations were more fun than building sand castles, just because your parentssaw every outing at their beach club as a networking opportunity. God forbid we didn’t look like the picture-perfect suburban unit.”
I frown. “Don’t tell me you’ve never been buried in the sand.”
“My mother would have had a heart attack.”
“Climbed a tree?”
She shakes her head. “They’re doctors. Seen too many pediatric injuries.”
My brow furrows. “Had a snowball fight?”
Her eyes finally roll. “I’ve done that.”
“Makes sense. You’re so combative.” This earns me a laugh, and she playfully shoves my arm. Then she eyes our surroundings again, and her expression sobers.
“I know how this all sounds, but my parents—they’re not, you know,bad.At all. They love me, even if they don’t say it much anymore, and they’ve given me so many opportunities. I’m so lucky. They’ve just…they’ve worked so hard to get where they are, that it’s the only way they know how to live. Naturally, they expect my brother and I to do the same.”
It's clear her parents were strict as hell. Suffocating. Anyone raised in that environment would be a high-achiever, like her. But I can’t think of many people who’d be as empathetic.
The way she defends them, trying to understand their motivations, when it’d be so easy to rag on them, spears right into my chest.
Eliza’s whollygood. She can sling digs, tease, and roll her pretty eyes as much as she wants, but deep down, at the foundation of it all, is a sweetheart.
“They must be proud of you,” I say.
She scoffs. “Notexactly.”
“Now, you didn’t say anything about your parents lacking common sense.”
“They see me being here as a failure. A waste of time. Not that their opinions should even matter when I’m my own adult.” She scoffs again, then abruptly stops. “Sorry. This place is so beautiful and peaceful,and I’m being a total buzzkill.”
The chemicals gleefully buzzing through my bloodstream would disagree.
“It isn’t too quiet for you here?” I ask, genuinely curious. It’s nothing but sand, trees, and water. No music, no noise, no people. Nothing to do but sit and justbe.
“Not at all. It’s…” Another deep breath, like she’s trying to absorb it all. “It’s like a little paradise. Like…we’re not part of the world right now.”
A salt-tinged breeze wraps around us, and I stay silent. Not on purpose, but because I’m too busy absorbing the soft, calm bliss painted over her face.
She mistakes my silence for disinterest, maybe, because she suddenly shakes her head. “And now I’m getting philosophical.”
“No, I think you got it right.”
It’s like that simple agreement opens the tap to her thoughts.
“This whole place is sort of like that, actually,” she says, fingertip drawing random shapes in the sand between us. “I know I’m working, but it doesn’t feel like it usually does.”
“Which is?”
“Like you can never really relax,” she answers, finger stilling in the sand. She hugs her knees. “Like you’re fighting a constant uphill battle against people who think they’re better than you. And then you leave, and there’s people and traffic and noise everywhere.And then you go home and keep working, because that’s the culture, and you’re tired but you say yes to every social outing, because that’s just what you do, and you give all of this time and energy to people who youthinkcare about you, but actually don’t give a shit, because they cheat on you, or hook up with your ex behind your back?—”
She cuts herself off, closing her eyes for a moment. When they open again, they’re flat. “That’s, um, actually just me. Not a city thing.” Her mouth twists in self-deprecation as she glances over at me. “I’mreallygreat company right now, huh?”
“You are,” I state. Sincerely. Intentionally, so she knows that opening up won’t chase me away like she thinks it will.
