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“But let’s get one thing straight. Nowhere is too far to be with you.”
They’d been ambling across the beach for about fifteen minutes when a patch of gray clouds rolled in overhead.
Everly shook off a thick pile of wet sand slurping at her sneaker. “So maybe the beach wasn’t the best idea.”
Logan was keeping closer than usual while filming on account ofthe wind, which shoved at their limbs and slapped the water against the shore.
“But it’s all so tropical. The dark gray sky, the quicksand beneath our feet, the freezing wind.” He grinned at her.
“I figured thiswastropical for you lumbersexual types. Do they even make flannel in short sleeves?”
Logan huffed out a low laugh. “I do wear other fabrics.”
“Lies.” Everly paidvery(very, very) close attention to him and had seen nothing but plaid shirts for a month.
He shook his head, a smile twitching at his lips. “Assuming the sun actually shows itself here, why do you love this beach so much?”
Casting her gaze out across the water, Everly fought back the loose strands of hair whipping around her face. “It’s a lot of things. The artist in me likes the different textures. The sand and the water and the rocks. And sea glass. I keep mason jars of sea glass all over my apartment. One day I want to do some kind of collage or mural with it.”
“On the shelves above your TV?”
She nodded. He never missed a detail.
“But more than that, there’s something comforting about all this space.” She stretched her arms out to indicate the length of the beach. “When I was younger and had a really shitty—er… crappy day—”
He snorted. “Nice save.”
She gave a little curtsy, then blushed when it summoned a full smile from him. One where his eyes crinkled and that furrow in his brow smoothed out and he looked five years younger.
“Anyway, when I had a crap day I’d come here and look out at the water, the way it expands out to the horizon with no end in sight, and I’d realize that the world is bigger than whether I’m wearing the right brand of shoes, or have to get the free lunch, or the C on my math test, or whatever was upsetting me. There’s all this out there,” she gesturedagain with her arms, “and that moment of being upset is just that: a moment.”
They were moving away from the houses that lined the shore to the craggy rocks at the border. Everly got as close to the water as she dared, scanning the ground for sea glass.
A crescent-curl of lilac caught her eye against the grayish-brown sand, and she bent to pick it up.
A few steps away she spotted a small sea-green piece, and farther still, a flat sphere almost the same color as Logan’s eyes. She placed them on her palm to show him.
“Why sea glass?”
She shrugged. “It’s pretty. Whenever I see it, my mind instantly wants to make something. Or draw something. And I love that they have a story, you know?”
“What do you mean?”
She picked up the blue circle. “At some point, this was the bottom of a bottle. Now look at it. It’s something else entirely.” He offered his hand, and she pressed it to his palm. Her fingers lingered for a second against his skin. “Transformation. It’s like what this show does.” Her hand fell back to her side. “What I hope it’s doing for me.”
He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again. “How have you felt about being on the show so far?” he asked instead.
She exhaled, long and slow. That question felt like another reminder that everything was coming to an end. “There’s things I’ve loved as much as I knew I would. Like meeting the hosts, shopping with Jazzy, Stanton making me get myself together at work. Even him talking with my mom that day at her house, it opened up a space for us to be more honest with each other.” She scuffed her shoe against a mound of sand. “I don’t think we’ll ever have a perfect relationship but I think we understand each other a little better now. And I think, over time, that will help. And thetattoo stuff. That tattoo is my dream…” Everly let her voice fade into a strong gust of wind that buffeted against them. Logan had been a huge part of her transformation as well, but with the camera on, she couldn’t get the words out. It was too intimate. Too much of an acknowledgment of what was growing between them to give to an audience.
To give to Sady.
She looked away from him, toward the sky, which was much darker. The smattering of clouds had thickened to a charcoal canvas, and the threat of a thunderstorm pressed against her skin.
“We should probably—”
The words hadn’t fully left her mouth when the first raindrop splashed against her shoulder.
CHAPTER 26
