Page 95 of Pick Me Up On Tuesdays

I threw a surreptitious glance at Ethan, as if he was the answer to all the universe's questions. Still, something about him was… off.

Maybe the party would help. Maybe it wouldn’t. Either way, I made my decision.

I sighed, adjusting my bag. “Fine. I’ll see what I'll do.”

Max grinned like he had just won a bet. “Knew you would come. Make sure you bring him with you.”

Then, before I could change my mind, he jogged off to harass someone else into joining the plan.

I shook my head.

Midnight at the beach, huh?

This was either going to be fun.

Or an absolute disaster.

Maybe both.

No in-between.

Chapter 27: A First Time For Everything

As I followed the rest of the group into the motel, my brain spun in a thousand directions, trying to figure out how I was supposed to casually convince Ethan to sneak out with me without looking like I was dragging him into an elaborate kidnapping.

Midnight was hours away. Enough time to overthink it. Enough time to chicken out.

Our motel room was just as underwhelming as I expected—walls the color of old coffee, a dim light fixture that buzzed faintly in the silence, and two beds with bedspreads so outdated they looked like relics from the last century. But they were functional, and after a long day on the road, function was all we needed.

Ethan was already claiming his bed by the time I closed the door behind us. He tossed his bag aside, pulled out a wrinkled T-shirt, and muttered something about needing a shower. I watched as he disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water kicking in seconds later.

When he finally stepped out, his hair damp and shirt clinging slightly to his skin, he didn’t say a word. Just grabbed his laptop, propped it against his knees, and got to work—editing footage from the wild.

I did the same, settling into my spot, pulling my laptop onto my lap, and logging into my freelancing site. It was one of those days—the non-sneaking days where we spent most of the nighton our laptops. The days where both of us got immersed in our own worlds, the quiet hum of clicking keys and shifting fabric filling the space.

Only, tonight, I wasn’t working.

Not really.

Instead, I was sitting there, staring at my screen, pretending to be focused when all my attention was locked onto one ridiculous, completely out-of-character thought: I had to make Ethan sneak out with me—not in the “let's sneak out” way (that would be too obvious) but in a nerdy conjure I hadn't figured out yet.

I had never, in all my days, been the one to suggest breaking the rules. If anything, I was the one stopping people from doing stupid things. I was the voice of reason.

And yet, here I was.

My fingers hovered uselessly over my keyboard, barely typing a thing. Every now and then, I snuck a glance at him.

Ethan was hunched over his laptop, shoulders a little lower than usual. Not slouched in that confident, lazy way—just... low. His expression unreadable, the glow from his screen painting shadows across his face.

Then, an idea crawled into my brain—bold, uninvited, andprobablybrilliant.

I cleared my throat, just loud enough for him to hear. “Huh. Apparently, the sea glows around here at night.”

His fingers paused mid-air. He didn’t move right away, didn’t shoot back some cocky one-liner like he normally would. Just… paused.

“Wait, what?” he said after a beat. Flat. Not confused, not excited. Just blank.

I glanced up innocently. “Hmm?”

---