Chapter 7
Eleanor
Finally I decided to show Greyson the dragonflies. We met in the parking lot of Laurie Lake, and when he arrived, I swore he was more handsome than ever before. He was just wearing a white T-shirt and dark jeans, but to me, he looked amazing.
“Hey.” I smiled.
“Hey,” he replied, and then he hugged me.
He walked straight up to me, wrapped his arms around me, and hugged me.
Yup.
He hugged me.
Our first hug.
He did it so effortlessly, too, as if hugging was our normal way of greeting. I hugged him back and probably held on for longer than I should have, but I didn’t care. It seemed like he didn’t care either, because he held me tight until I let him go.
When I pulled back, I cleared my throat and wouldn’t even look at him because I was so nervous.
What did the hug mean? Did the seconds we’d held on mean more than a normal friendship hug?
Did he get nervous too? Was I overthinking every single second of every single day since Greyson East had put himself into my life?
“So where are the dragonflies?” he asked, breaking me away from my dramatic thoughts.
I cleared my throat and rubbed my left hand up and down my right arm. “Oh, this way. Come on.”
We walked through the more popular park areas where people were having cookouts and playing volleyball. The lake was always packed during the summer days. Raine didn’t get many warm days, and we made it our mission to soak up the sun as much as possible.
When Greyson and I reached the hiking trail, he was determined to pet every dog that crossed our path.
Each time he discovered a new pup, his eyes would light up as if it were the only dog on the whole planet, and he’d turn to me and say, “Look at his nose, Ellie! Oh my God! He’s smiling.
” It was as if he’d just discovered his new best friend—until the next one came along.
The way he loved animals made it even harder for me to control my ever-growing feelings for the guy.
Can you just not be so perfect, Greyson? That would be great, thanks.
When we were about halfway down the trail, I nodded to my left. “OK, now we have to cross through the trees.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “You’re not trying to take me out into the woods to, like, kill me, right?”
I laughed. “Don’t be silly, Grey. If I wanted to kill you, I would’ve done it ages ago.”
“Well, that’s comforting.”
We went through the trees, and the branches hit us repeatedly. It took about three minutes of getting scraped up from rough foliage before we approached the clearing, and when we did, Greyson smiled ear to ear.
“Wow,” he said, staring out at the body of water.
Compared to the actual lake, it was tiny, but seeing it isolated made it look massive, especially when there were only two people around it.
There were some large logs, which were where Mom and I always sat and talked.
Wildflowers were fully in bloom, and the grass was the greenest it would be all year.
“I know, right?”
I led him over to a log, and we sat down beside each other.
For a while, we were just quiet, looking at the natural beauty that surrounded us. Greyson didn’t say much, but his grin spoke loud enough for me to know he didn’t hate it.
Then a dragonfly flew right past us.
“I see why you love it here. It’s peaceful,” Greyson said.
“Yeah, plus being near water helps my mom with inspiration for her artwork.”
He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Your mom’s an artist?”
“Yeah. She’s been doing it all her life for fun. She’s amazing.”
“And that’s, like, her job?”
“Well, she’s a nanny by day, artist by night. She could do it full time if she wanted to, but she’s really in love with being a nanny.”
“That’s pretty neat.”
I frowned. “Yeah, I guess.”
“What is it?”
“It’s just that she recently stopped nannying for her last family. And she hasn’t been painting as much as normal,” I told him, shifting around on my seat. “I think she’s getting too drained from chemotherapy to do it.”
Greyson’s smile slowly faded. “I’m sorry, Ellie.”
“Yeah, me too.” The less she painted, the more her illness became real in my mind. But I tried my best to shake off those thoughts. If I slipped down that rabbit hole of sadness, I wouldn’t come back from it. “What about your parents? What do they do?” I asked, changing the subject.
He shrugged. “My dad’s the CEO of a whiskey company, and my mom’s always traveling for fun. They aren’t around a lot. I haven’t seen my mom in a few weeks, and Dad just comes home sometimes and sleeps. Most of the time he stays at the apartment he has in Chicago, though, instead of driving home.”
“So you’re just alone most of the time?”
“Yup. I mean, before I had Grandpa, but since he passed away . . . it’s just me.”
“Do you miss them?” I asked. “Do you miss your parents being around?”
“Doesn’t matter. Missing them isn’t going to make them stay.
I just always promise myself I’ll be different, you know?
I want to be different when I have kids someday.
I would never abandon them. I’m supposed to take over the whiskey company when I’m older, but I’d do it different than Dad.
I’d make time for my family. I’d show up.
My grandpa was able to do both, be a parent and run a business. He showed up all the time.”
“I think people underestimate how important just showing up is.”
“It’s everything,” he agreed.
“So you’re taking over your dad’s company?”
“Yeah. My grandpa started it. It’s a family tradition, I guess.”
“Is that what you want to do? What do you want to be when you grow up?” I asked Greyson.
He effortlessly replied, “Happy.”
“Happy?”
“Yeah. That’s all. It’s what my grandpa always told me.
He’d say, ‘Greyson, listen close. You can be anything in the world, and it would be good enough. Job title doesn’t matter as long as you have food on your table and heat on your stove.
What matters the most is being happy. So when you do grow up, make sure you’re happy.
Everything else will fall into place.’ So yeah, I just want to be happy.
I don’t care what I’m doing as long as I’m happy while I’m doing it. ”
I liked his answer more than I could say.
“What about you, Ellie? What do you want to be?”
“Happy,” I said, stealing his answer. “I think I just want to be happy too.”
He smiled at me and gently nudged my shoulder with his. Then his head tilted up, and he looked at the sky. “I like this place a lot.”
“Yeah. It’s a good escape from the clod world,” I commented.
He smirked. “You’re really into this Wesley Peters stuff, huh?”
“It’s only the air I breathe,” I said matter-of-factly.
I couldn’t really imagine what would’ve happened to me if I hadn’t had Wesley Peters to get me through the past years. If I hadn’t, I might’ve believed the lies people told about me.
I would’ve thought I wasn’t magical, and that would’ve been a shame.
It was sad that so many people went through life without knowing they were filled with magic.
“I think it’s cool that you’re so into it,” he said. “And I really am excited for the next one to come out.”
“Me too,” I agreed. “I can’t wait.”
We sat there watching the dragonflies buzz around, and I took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. “Can I ask you a question? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
“Anything.”
“What’s the story about Stacey White? Again, you don’t have to answer, but I feel like since she was the one who kind of brought us together . . .”
He brushed his finger against his nose. “It’s embarrassing.”
“You don’t have to say, really. I’m just curious.”
He clasped his fingers together, rolled his shoulders back, and cracked his neck. “Well, yeah, I’d be curious, too, I guess. It’s really embarrassing, though.”
“I wear crocheted cardigans with dragonflies on them, Greyson. Embarrassing is my middle name.”
He sighed and nodded, turning to face me.
He clapped his hands once. “All right. So Stacey and I were dating for a short period, not long, and I wasn’t even sure if she was someone I should’ve dated, because, well, she’s not really my type.
She’s a bit self-absorbed, but whatever.
Everything was going good with her, until she was ready to, well, you know .
. .” His cheeks reddened, and for the first time ever, I witnessed Grey getting flustered.
Finally, we were on an even playing field.
“Yeah, I know.” I nodded, trying my best to ease his nerves.
“When I told her I’d never done it, she laughed, thinking I was joking, so I laughed too, trying to play it off.
But then when we went to do the act, I couldn’t .
. .” He dropped his stare. “Well, I mean, my nerves . . . I couldn’t get it .
. . up.” The last words were whispered, and I swore I’d never liked him more.
“I was just nervous, and overthinking, and I know it’s embarrassing that I’m seventeen and I haven’t—”
“I haven’t either,” I cut in.
He looked up to me, shocked, which was shocking to me. The Wesley Peters–loving cardigan-wearer was a virgin?
No way!
“Really?” he asked, clearly feeling hopeful that he wasn’t the only one of us left on the planet.
“Really, really. It’s not shocking. I’ve never even been kissed.”
“You’re wrong,” he disagreed. “That is shocking.”
I shrugged. “I think people our age make it out to be a bigger deal than it is.”
“Which is exactly what Stacey did. She laughed in my face, and mocked me, saying that the most popular guy in school couldn’t even get her off.
So I broke up with her. She didn’t take that too well and threatened to tell everyone about my, um .
. . performance issues. I told Landon, and he handled it.
He had some dirt on Stacey that she didn’t want to get out, so she shut up about it, which led to me owing Landon. ”
“I see.”
“Yeah. He’s a dick, but he’s my best friend, so at least he’s a loyal dick.”
“Wow. That’s actually really nice of him . . . you know, until he forced you to talk to a weird girl at a party by blackmailing you.”
“I don’t regret that,” he said matter-of-factly.
Sigh. “Me either.”
“I owe you, Ellie.”
“For what?”
He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck.
“The past few weeks since my grandpa passed away, I’ve been really lonely and sad; even when I’m around other people at parties and stuff, it’s been hard.
But when I’m with you, I’m not lonely anymore.
When I’m with you, I feel like I belong.
So I owe you for that. I almost forgot what it felt like. ”
“You almost forgot what what felt like?”
He shrugged a shoulder. “Being happy.”