Page 22 of The Last Special Thing

She snorted as he gestured to a solo surfer dashing to the waves.

“Trying to find the Loch Ness monster,” she teased.

He flashed her a toothy smile.

When the people to watch dwindled, they ventured to an abandoned lifeguard tower, shielding themselves from the boardwalk view. On the perch, their legs dangled. Art edged closer, and her heart fluttered. She reminded herself that she barely knew him, but it felt like a lie.

With her head on his shoulder, they relaxed in comfortable silence, admiring the pink and orange hues of the sunset over the crashing waves.

“There’s nothing like a sunset over the ocean. My mom would love this.” His words were hardly above a whisper.

“What’s your family like?”

His shoulders slumped beneath her.

“My dad left when I was ten. My mom,” he wavered. “Well, she did what she could. My brother, Asher, is a few years older than me. Then I have a sister, Aurora.”

“Really had a thing for the ‘A’ names in your family.”

“Got room for one more.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “You want to be Amelia Anderson?”

A blush crept up her cheeks, and she worked to suppress her smile. “Not today.” Then she asked, “Are you close to your siblings?”

“No.”

The one-word response didn’t deter her. She was also someone who would keep things surface-level unless pushed. It was good to show people you cared more.

“Why not?” she asked.

His chest fell with a heavy sigh. “Asher was my hero. Then he got mixed up with bad people. He’s in jail.”

The surfers, no bigger than buoys from their view, bobbed in the sea. Another wave crashed against the shoreline. She wasn’t sure what to say. She hadn’t been close to people whose lives were so complicated.

“Aurora’s pregnant,” he said over the waves. “Four or five months.”

“And then there’s you.”

“What do you mean?”

She shifted against the wooden panels beneath her. “Just that they have these circumstances that have mapped out how their lives are going to be. Then there’s you- free.”

“You think I’m free?” He pulled back in surprise.

“You moved out here all by yourself. You let the band be your only compass. You’re not bound by anything.” She had UCLA and concrete dreams, for better or for worse.

“Free.” He locked eyes with her. “I’m going to write a song about you, Amelia. The girl who showed me I was free. The only chains I have are self-imposed.”

She laughed. “Wow, you took that a step further than I did.”

He chucked. “I do that.” Then added, “What about you?”

“I have an older sister, Georgina. She’s currently in Italy.”

“Are you close?”

“No.” Her lips twitched at the realization that she repeated his answer.

“What about your parents?”