Page 2 of Searching for Sunshine

Avery: Did you get the boot too?

Stella: Yep. They got you too, huh?

Avery: Sure did. Apparently the district doesn’t think funding art and some of the other electives is necessary. Biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard.

Stella: *eye roll* I hate that. I guess we’re job hunting together then?

Avery: Hell yeah we are. There’s no way I can deal with all the craziness at school without you.

Stella: Sounds good. I’ll start searching and see what I can find.

Avery: Perfect. I’m finalizing the set up for the art show next week and then I’ll be home.

Stella: Okay. Dinner?

Avery: As long as there’s also drinks, I’m in ;)

Stella: Deal.

I can’t believe this is happening,I think to myself, throwing my phone on the bed and changing into my running clothes. I’ve spent the last three years devoting all of my energy to Smith’s Valley High, and now what? I start over again in a new school? The thought makes my stomach hurt, so I try to focus my attention on getting ready for my run instead of the frustration and anxiety running through me at the thought of what the next few months may bring.

Running has always been my favorite way to unwind after a long day of work, and I definitely need something to take my frustration out on today.

After lacing up my running shoes, I grab my headphones and hit the trail behind the apartment. It takes me a little longer than normal to find my rhythm, but after a few songs, I settle into my easy pace. As I run, I go on autopilot and all the noise in my brain goes quiet for the next few miles. I didn’t grow up in Smith’s Valley, Alabama, but I’ve spent the last ten years here, and I have to admit that the thought of moving to a nearby city for work does make me a little sad.

Between losing my Memaw earlier this year—who was the closest thing I had to a parental figure after my parent’s divorce—and now the loss of my job, I feel a little lost. My parents announced that they were separating the day after my high school graduation, and both of them rushed into new relationships, meaning I’d been all but forgotten by the time I moved into my dorm two months later. My Memaw was one of the only family members that I still had contact with, and that knowledge made her loss even harder.

I’d give anything to call her and get her advice on what to do right now, but I can hear her voice now. “Oh, my sweet child, don’t you know everything is going to work out? Life’s a trip and it’s time for you to enjoy the ride. And if you need some help, find yourself a hot guy and ride him too.”

Despite feeling my chest tighten with grief, I can’t help but smile at the thought. Memaw was notorious for sprouting out some of the most inappropriate, silly things with a smile on her face. Shifting my attention back to my run, I focus on my pace for the last three miles. By the time I make it back to the apartment, I’m desperate for a shower, but I feel way better than I did seven miles ago.

“Damn, girl, hasn’t your day been bad enough? Did you really need to torture yourself anymore running in this heat?” Avery teases, holding up her wine glass. “Couldn’t you just have a glass of wine like the rest of us?”

“I figured I’d do both,” I say with a laugh, grabbing my water bottle and taking a long swig before turning back to her. “I’m going to grab a quick shower, and then we can go get dinner.”

“Sounds like the perfect end to a shitty day,” Avery says, shimmying her shoulders.

CHAPTER 2

WYATT

“Motherfucker, will anything ever go right on this damn boat?” I mutter under my breath as the motor sputters to a sudden stop, causing the boat to lose power and jostling me and the rest of my passengers.

“Uh, man, I’m no mechanic or anything, but, uh…I don’t think it’s supposed to do that,” one of the men I’m supposed to be taking out on a fishing trip says.

“Yeah, that didn’t sound too good,” his friend agrees.

As soon as this group stepped on the boat, they started offering “suggestions” of things I should do differently, despite the fact that when I asked, none of them had been on a boat more than once. I’ll never understand what it is about a boat that makes other men act like they’ve lived on the water their entire lives. The attitudes of most of these groups get on my damn nerves, and even though it’s been less than ten minutes since we left the dock, I'm already looking forward to this trip being over. However, I would much rather it conclude with a few happy customers and some decent tips for once.

I blow out a breath and try to hide my frustration. “It’s probably something with the spark plugs. It shouldn’t take me long to get it fixed, so y’all can hang out and wait. Or if you’drather go on out, I can try to get one of our other boats to come get you and finish your trip.”

“We don’t mind waiting. As long as we don’t run out of beer, I’m pretty sure we can keep ourselves entertained,” one of them says before turning and grabbing a handful of beers out of the cooler for him and the others to shotgun. The rest of them cheer like their team just won the Super Bowl, and I fight the urge to roll my eyes at their antics.

“Fucking fabulous,” I mumble, grabbing the toolbox I keep stashed away and turning to the back of the boat to work on the motor.

It takes me less than ten minutes to get the spark plug replaced and after making sure everything is ready to go, I turn back to my passengers.

“All right. Sorry about that. We’re good to go now,” I tell them, straightening and pointing us out toward one of my usual fishing spots.

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