Chapter 17
Cricket Jenkins
My phone vibrates, and that little zing goes through me. The one that I can’t help when I think Micah might be wanting to chat. I pick up my phone, but it’s not Micah texting. It’s River.
I didn’t get the part. I fly out tomorrow. Do you want to do something today, since it will be my last day here?
I sigh, disappointed that River didn’t get his role. He was so hopeful that he’d get it. I feel really bad for him.
Sure. Let’s do something fun.
I’ll come pick you up in an hour.
I hurry and get ready, putting on a lightweight sweater and a pair of blue jeans. It’s a little chilly today, so I grab a jacket in case River’s taking me somewhere outdoors.
The doorbell rings, and I rush to get it. When I open the door, River stands there smiling, but I can see it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Come on in. You look like you need to talk.”
We go into the kitchen, and he slides onto a barstool. He rakes a hand through his hair, and his shoulders slump. “I don’t know what happened. I was perfect for this part.”
I grab him a Cherry Coke from the fridge—because it’s Micah’s favorite and that’s all we have right now—and slide onto the stool next to him. “I’m so sorry.”
He pops open the tab, takes a drink, then sets the can down with a clunk. “My agent dropped me this morning.”
“What? Why?”
“I’m too ‘typecast’ as a child actor,” River says, using air quotes. “And he said he can’t sell me anymore.” River stares down at the counter, and I feel the weight of his disappointment.
“That’s terrible. I’m sure you’re so much more than just a child actor.” I put my hand over his, trying to reassure him. “You’ll get another agent. Someone who gets you better roles.”
“I don’t know if I want to try anymore. It’s been so long since I had anything of value come my way.”
I pat his hand. “Don’t give up. Not if this is your dream.”
He raises his gaze to meet mine. “That’s just it. I don’t know if this is my dream. I thought it was when I was a kid. I begged my parents to take me to that audition. I don’t think anyone expected me to get such a big role. But I don’t know anymore. Maybe this is something I’ve outgrown.”
“If this isn’t your dream, what is?”
River shrugs and takes another drink of his soda. “I don’t know. Maybe instead of acting, I could explore my filmmaking. I like to do that. It’s more of a hobby right now, but I could start taking it more seriously.”
“I think that’s a great idea. Will you show me some of your work?”
“Sure.” He pulls out his phone and calls up a video.
We watch it together. It looks like a short documentary on the life of a crab. I watch as a crab comes out of his burrow and picks along the seaweed for food. When a seagull comes, it quickly burrows itself back in the sand.
When it’s done, my mouth is hanging open. “River, this is really fantastic. Some of those shots you took are so artistic. I never would have thought to film from those angles.”
He blushes. “Thanks. I’m glad you liked it.”
“It’s really good.”
River slides off his barstool. “I need a distraction from today’s bad news. Are you up for it?”
I take in his devilish grin and narrow my eyes. “What exactly are you thinking?”
“How about that theme park that’s across the bridge? I was reading about it. This weekend is the grand opening.”
“Coastline Adventures?” I ask, and River nods. “I saw it advertised. It looks like a blast.”
“Great. Let’s go. I need to blow off steam.” He holds out his hand, and I slip mine into his.
The drive to Coastline Adventures takes about forty-five minutes, and by the time we get there, River seems to have shaken off some of his earlier gloominess. The parking lot is packed with families and couples, and I can hear the screams and laughter of people on the rides even from here.
“Wow, this place is huge,” I say, looking up at the towering roller coaster that dominates the skyline.
River grins, and this time, his eyes crinkle. “Perfect. I want to ride everything.”
We buy our tickets and head inside. The first ride we hit is a spinning teacup ride that leaves us both dizzy and laughing. Then we move on to the bumper cars, where I discover River is surprisingly competitive.
“You’re going down, Jenkins!” he shouts as he rams his car into mine.
“Is that a challenge, Stone?” I call back, spinning my wheel to chase after him. I hit him twice, but he gets me three more times before the end of the ride.
After we climb out of the bumper cars, both of us grinning like kids, I spot a funnel cake stand. “Have you ever had one of those?”
“Never.”
My mouth falls open in shock. “Oh, you’re missing out. Come on.”
We order a funnel cake loaded with powdered sugar and strawberries and find a picnic table to share it. After he takes a bite, I ask, “So?”
“It’s delicious. I can’t believe I’ve been missing out on this my whole life.”
I laugh. River tears off a piece, and I open my mouth on impulse. He pops it into my mouth, and I swoon because it’s just like something that would happen in one of the novels I read.
Of course, just as I start to think this relationship might work, River’s set to leave tomorrow. I wonder how a long-distance relationship might work. I push those thoughts out of my head because that’s depressing.
“So, tell me,” I say after finishing a bite of the sweet, crispy dough, “how did you get into filmmaking? Like, when did you first pick up a camera?”
River leans back, thinking. “I was maybe eleven, and I was bored on set one day. Kid Logic had this really long shooting schedule, and there was a lot of downtime between takes. One of the camera operators let me mess around with his equipment during lunch break.” His face lights up.
“I was fascinated by how you could capture a moment and make it tell a story. It felt more real than acting somehow.”
“What kind of stuff do you like to film?”
“In the past, I’ve filmed nature, mostly. Wildlife behavior, landscapes. There’s something peaceful about it. You have to be patient, wait for the right moment.” He grins. “Complete opposite of Hollywood, where everything is rushed and fake.”
I dust powdered sugar off my fingers. “Is that what you were doing at the beach that day? Filming that crab?”
“Yeah. I also got some amazing footage of dolphins and those aggressive seagulls.” He laughs.
“But I was actually thinking about making a short documentary about small coastal communities. You know, take on something a little more challenging. There’s something special about places like Willow Shade. ”
My excitement mounts. Maybe he will be back to Willow Shade soon, then. “Really? What do you mean?”
River takes another bite of funnel cake, considering his words. “People actually know each other there. They care about each other. In LA, I can live in the same apartment building for two years and never know my neighbors’ names.”
“I can see what you mean. I think doing a documentary would be a great idea.”
“Thanks.” He licks some powdered sugar from his finger, and I think that makes him look sexy—once again, exactly like in the books I read.
“What else do you like to do?” I ask, getting more curious about him.
“I love hiking. Does Willow Shade have any trails?”
I nod. “Yes. In the Seagrass Wildlife Preserve there are some trails that take you through the marshlands and along the coastline.”
“That sounds perfect.” He smiles. “Do you want to show me around the wildlife preserve?”
“When will you be coming back?”
He pauses. “Actually, there’s something I should probably confess to you.”
“Confess?”
“I really like Willow Shade. I’ve thought about getting a house there. I’ve actually looked at a couple of houses for sale.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Really? You’d move to Willow Shade?”
River grows serious. “Does that bother you? I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”
“No.” I smile at him. “I was wondering what the future might look like between us. I’m happy you’re looking at moving.” I look down at the picnic table. “But I have a question.”
“Ask anything.”
“How can you afford that if you’re out of work?”
River looks a little embarrassed. “Kid Logic is doing well on streaming services right now. The residuals are actually pretty good.”
“That’s amazing. So you could really do it? Move to Willow Shade?”
“Maybe. The pace is so different. Relaxing. And the people…”—he looks at me meaningfully—“are pretty great too.”
I feel my cheeks warm. “I think you’d love living there.”
“Come on,” River says, standing and offering me his hand. “Let’s ride that roller coaster before we lose our nerve.”
The roller coaster is intense—all loops and drops that leave us breathless and exhilarated. Afterward, River points to the Ferris wheel.
“One more ride?”
I can’t help but remember a scene in one of the books I have read in which the main characters kiss at the top of the Ferris wheel. It was so magical. Maybe we need a redo.
I smile at him. “Perfect ending to the day.”
We climb into our car as the sun is starting to set, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange. The wheel begins to turn, lifting us higher and higher until we can see the ocean in the distance.
“This is beautiful,” I say, looking out at the view.
“It really is,” River agrees, but when I glance over, he’s looking at me instead of the scenery.
The Ferris wheel suddenly stops with a slight jerk, leaving us swaying gently at the very top.
A voice comes over the speakers. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re experiencing a brief technical delay. Please remain seated and enjoy the view. We’ll have you moving again shortly.”
River laughs. “Well, this is perfect timing.”
I look at him, feeling a flutter in my stomach. We have the romantic setting, and he’s been so good to me all day. Our last kiss had been so awkward and disappointing. But maybe it was just nerves. Maybe if I tried again…
“River,” I say softly.
He turns to me, and I can see something hopeful in his expression. Before I can lose my nerve, I lean toward him and press my lips to his.
For a moment, I think it might be different this time.
River responds gently, his hand coming up to cup my cheek.
But as the kiss continues, that same hollow feeling settles in my chest. It’s nice, but it’s just…
nice. There’s no spark, no electricity, none of that breathless excitement I’ve read about in books or seen in movies.
I pull back, trying to keep the disappointment off my face.
“Cricket?” River searches my expression. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I say quickly, forcing a smile. “Of course. Just… enjoying the moment.”
But even as I say it, I can’t shake the feeling that something is missing. River is wonderful—kind, interesting, handsome, successful. He should be perfect for me. So why does kissing him feel like letting the air out of a tire?
River smiles at me, and I can’t help but feel like he enjoyed our kiss, and I’m the only one who can’t feel any sparks. He looks genuinely happy to be with me.
The Ferris wheel starts moving again, and I’m grateful for the distraction. As we descend, I paste on a bright smile and try to push away the growing certainty that whatever is going wrong with our kisses is my fault.