Page 47 of Chosen

“Always like what?”

“Everyone so close to each other. So… content with everything.”

“I don’t think it’s specific to Roanoke, no.” Damon shook his head. “But there is a real sense of camaraderie out here. I won’t deny that.”

“I feel like it’s so different in Atlanta. Like, we have friend groups, sure. But I don’t know. I feel like everything is just built on shifting sand and it’s supposed to be that way? That things aren’t supposed to stay the same and expecting them to makes you look like an idiot. There’s no room for finding the joy in things being stagnant.”

“Not sure how people out here would feel about you calling their lives stagnant.” Damon chuckled.

“You know what I mean.” I playfully rolled my eyes. “It was a compliment. Things seem like they move slower around here and it’s for the better.”

“Maybe so.” Damon shrugged. “I can’t say I’m the best judge about it. I’ve been here so long that it all seems the same to me.”

“So, growing up here was pretty much the same, too?”

Damon tilted his head for a moment. “Yes and no. Yes, in that I’ve always loved being here, being close to nature, all of that. But no in that I’m not sure I’d call my childhood typical for the area.”

“Really? Why not?” I pressed, eager to hear Damon’s response.

“Because I come from a military family.” Damon beamed. “My dad was a very strict man. Everything needed to be in order, and everyone needed to be in line. He didn’t take it overboard or anything, but it was something that buried itself in the back of my brain, I think. That need for order. That need for control.”

“You don’t say?” I gasped, as if he’d given me completely new information.

And Damon lightly chuckled before he went on. “My mom was the exact opposite. But of course she was, since opposites attract and all. She’d let me get away with whatever she could.”

“Sounds like a pretty balanced childhood.”

“It was.” Damon nodded. “It was also a lot to live up to, though. It’s hard having parents that are pretty much perfect. People expect you to be perfect, too.”

“And what about you isn’t perfect, Damon?” I quirked an eyebrow. “Are you trying to tell me there’s some huge flaw I’m missing?”

“Well, the fact that I didn’t follow my dad into the military is a pretty big one.” He chuckled again. “My dad never really lets me live that one down.”

“Because you started Wild Woods instead?”

“Bingo.” Damon nodded. “It was risky but after high school, I just needed to do my own thing. Or at least, feel like I was doing my own thing.”

“Feel like you were doing your own thing?”

“You didn’t feel like that in high school?” Damon asked. “Like you needed to just… break away from it all? And do something for yourself?”

“Uh, absolutely.” I let out a harsh laugh. “But my idea of striking out on my own wasn’t as lucrative. Or sensible. But I think that’s the case for anyone who wants to go into journalism.”

“Were you like, the head of the paper at your high school?” Damon smirked. “Because I can easily imagine you bossing around your poor friends, screaming at them about hitting a deadline.”

“Hey, I would never scream at anyone,” I defended myself, with a smirk on my face. “But… yes. I was the editor of my high school paper. We even broke a story about a scandal on campus.”

“What kind?”

“Some of the jocks had worked out a deal with the lunch ladies so they could leave campus for lunch. While everyone else had to eat whatever was in the cafeteria, they were allowed to go grab Taco Bell around the corner,” I replied. “I think the headline was something like ‘Taco Bell For Some, Taco Hell For The Rest’.”

“Taco Hell?” Damon broke out into a laugh. “That is so dramatic. And so very, very you.”

“Thank you.” I flashed him a wide smile. I was about to say something else but was soon interrupted by a waitress in a dark blue uniform, walking up to our table.

“Welcome to Greg and Ted’s!” She started with a bright expression. She then turned toward Damon, a sense of familiarity in her eyes. “Oh, my God! Damon! You haven’t been here in forever! How have you been?”

“I’ve been good, Tiffany,” Damon replied. “How have you been? How’s Frank and the kids?”

---