Chapter 5 #2
Once we glide into the harbor and Beck helps us out, Audrey turns to us with her hands on her hips.
“Okay, kids. Either you two talk now or I’m going to lock you in a room together until you’ve had a proper conversation.
I can’t stand these awkward silences anymore when you both have so much to catch up on.
This is how it’s going to work. My blood sugar is getting low, so I’m heading up to the diner and stuffing my face with carbs.
Eleanor, I’ll wait for you there. But, don’t you dare join me until you’ve both talked, or else. ”
“Or else what?” I tease, both relieved at her pushing us like this but also not wanting her to get her way too easily.
The glint in Audrey’s eye has me second-guessing my comment. “Oh, I’ve got ideas, don’t you worry, but I think you’d prefer having a quiet chat here. Right?”
Beck steps forward and inclines his head toward Audrey. “Thank you for giving us time to talk. I won’t keep Eleanor busy for too long.”
With a very self-satisfied smirk, Audrey turns on her heels and saunters toward the diner as I stare up at Beck, grateful for him taking the lead, and pleased that it sounds like he wants to actually talk to me too.
“Would you like to sit down?” Beck asks, pointing at a bench seat facing the harbor.
“Sure. It might put us on more equal ground,” I try to joke, thinking about the entire foot I’m shorter than Beck.
Walking beside me as we head away from the boat, Beck tilts his head to the side, his shoulder-length hair a moonlit waterfall cascading to one side. “What do you mean?”
“Because you’re so tall and I’m so short. There might be less of a difference to look at each other if we’re both sitting down,” I say, my words getting slower as doubt creeps back in.
Beck shakes his head and states flatly. “I’m not that tall. Bodin is taller than me.”
“You’re certainly taller than when you were seven,” I remark, remembering one of our first summers together when we could still look each other directly in the eye.
“Ah, yes. Puberty changed many things,” Beck says with a slight rasp in his voice, his gaze briefly dipping to my breasts as a quick flurry of pearly scales flutters over his cheeks.
“Oh.” My breath catches and I quickly divert my eyes from doing a similar sweep down Beck’s body.
Wanting to change the course of the conversation to a safer topic, I pivot to an apology as he settles onto the bench in front of us.
“I’m sorry if Audrey pushed you into talking to me.
You really don’t have to if you don’t want to. ”
“I want to talk to you,” Beck says quickly, the words feeling like a breath of fresh air as he looks up at me with such openness, it makes me let my guard down too.
Sliding onto the bench next to him, I gather my courage and ask, “Why didn’t you call me after I gave you my number? It’s been months.”
A furrow forms between Beck’s brows, a look of uncertainty dancing across his face as he stares at me. “I didn’t know if you really wanted me to.”
“It was implied,” I whisper, not feeling angry at him, but perhaps a little hurt. Maybe I didn’t expect hugs and an instant full recap of what he’s been up to over the years, but I may have entertained the thought that he was almost as excited as me to see each other again.
“I’m not good at reading between the lines,” Beck says after a beat.
“Creatures can be deceptive with their words sometimes.” The statement leaves me nearly breathless because it speaks of ancient hurts that no one deserves.
Hurt, I can read in the defeated slump of Beck’s shoulders as he studies his shoes.
Hurt, I vow to myself I will not inflict on him too.
My friends have taught me a good motto: If he wanted to, he would.
It’s a concept I try to apply to my own lackluster dating life, but I’m now realizing that this concept doesn’t necessarily apply to Beck.
From what I’ve heard tonight, he requires direct communication, and expecting him to read my mind won’t work if I want to have a chance at rebuilding our friendship.
Tentatively, I reach up and squeeze his shoulder. “I’m sorry. It’s a cruel world sometimes.”
Beck presses his lips together and accepts the apology with a nod. “It is, but it’s not your fault.”
“It’s not yours either.”
For the first time, we lapse into a comfortable silence as we look out over the harbor and the boats peacefully bobbing in place.
Beck clears his throat. “So, you want me to call you this week?”
I turn sideways in my seat so he can read my sincerity. “Yes. But only if you want to.”
Beck mirrors my position and his ocean eyes shine with an emotion I can’t quite place. “I do. I want us to be friends again. You were my best friend before.”
“You were mine too.” Taking a fortifying breath, I look at Beck’s kind face and ask the question that’s been weighing on me for years.
“Where did you go, Beck? One day we were playing in the backyard, pushing each other on the swing, making up dances, and having fun, and the next day, you were just gone. I went to ask your grandmother where you were, but she said you had to leave early. She wouldn’t give me a reason why you didn’t say goodbye.
Every summer I waited for you, hoping to see you one more time. ”
Pain flashes across Beck’s face and he lifts his hand toward mine before laying it back in his lap and curling it into a fist, scales glimmering on his knuckles. “I did go back for you. Eventually. I went to see you the day after I graduated.”
I press my hand to my chest, my heart aching all over again as if no time has passed since that morning he disappeared, that missed opportunity at seeing him slicing through me like a sharp knife.
“You did? I never knew. I graduated a year early and moved to Youngford to study law, then moved to Cape Easton a couple of years ago.”
Beck swallows audibly. “Would you…?”
“Would I what?” I encourage, trying to stay present in this moment so I can properly crash out at home once I process everything he’s said tonight.
Looking adorably awkward, Beck tucks a strand of moonlit blond hair behind his ear. “Would you want to hang out sometime? Get coffee together? Or lemonade, if it’s still your favorite?”
I smile and twirl a piece of hair around my index finger, feeling like he’s almost asking me out on a date.
Beck might not have meant the offer to sound romantic, so in order to avoid any misunderstandings, I refuse to read too much into it and simply take his words at face value.
“I’d really like that. We can meet here in the city, or maybe you can show me around Starry Hill? ”
Beck’s entire body stills, his eyes rounding as he searches my face. “You want to come back to Starry Hill?” he asks, hope blossoming in his voice.
I nod as a lightness settles in my heart. “Very much. Lucille invited me to visit her next weekend at The Dancing Daisy. We could hang out after, if you’re free?”
“I’m free,” Beck answers quickly, a flurry of glittering scales rushing across his arms. “I’ll come pick you up in the morning and drop you off again when you’re ready to go back.”
“You sure it won’t be a bother to go twice? Maybe I can ask Viggo to do one of the trips?” I suggest.
“Please don’t.” It’s a simple request from Beck, one that’s very easy for me to agree to.
“Okay,” I breathe, hardly containing my smile.
“Okay,” Beck repeats, his eyes grazing across my face like he’s memorizing each one of my features.
“Saturday?” I state more than ask, already wondering how I’m going to get through the week when I have such an exciting weekend filled with a trip to Starry Hill, a visit to a bookshop, and Beck waiting for me at the end of it.
“Saturday,” Beck replies with a brilliant smile that matches my own.