Page 9 of Reckless Girls
Lux screws up her face, pretending to think. “You know, that does lose you some cool points, but on the whole, still a good name. I’ll allow it.”
He laughs then, laughs like a kid, throwing his head back. “I take it back,” he says. “Don’t give me your number. Marry me.”
“Let me see how well you tip first.”
When was the last time she flirted with a guy? When was the last time she felt like the Lux she’d been before, the one who always had a quip on her lips, the quickest and sharpest of all her friends?
Years.
Years and years. But here she is, doing it so easily with this guy.
She’ll eventually work out that this is Nico’s superpower, making people instantly feel like the best, most comfortable versions of themselves. But right now, standing by his table on a Thursday night, she doesn’t know that, doesn’t understand that the light turned so brightly on her shines on everyone he meets.
Gesturing at the notebook still lying open on the table, Lux asks, “What are you writing?”
The light is soft in this little back corner, but she still sees him blush a little, and it might be then that she falls in love with him.
He turns the notebook to her so that she can see the page. There’s a list of food that doesn’t sound very appetizing—she seesSpam listed in all caps—as well as a series of numbers, a crudely drawn map.
“I sail,” he explains. “Got a twenty-five footer I’ve been working on. Planning to take her to Hawaii as soon as I can, so.” He sweeps a hand over the page. “Logistics, basically.”
Lux doesn’t know much about boats other than that she likes looking at them. She may have grown up in California, but she has Midwestern roots. Her parents were both born in Nebraska, and her dad still lives there, with his new wife, and his new kids.
It had been Lux’s mom’s idea to come to San Diego after the divorce, wanting a fresh start, a place that was all theirs. And that had been great until she’d gotten sick Lux’s sophomore year of college. Pancreatic cancer, sudden and devastating, nowhere and then everywhere. Her mom had fought hard, though. They’d given her six months, and she’d lasted three years, but every one of those years had been a struggle, so much that when she’d finally died, Lux had felt a guilty surge of relief.
It’s over now,she’d thought.At least it’s finally over.
It had been, but it had left Lux with a strange three-year gap in her life. The last time things had been normal, she’d been twenty, going to UCSD, leading a fairly typical life—classes, parties, the occasional hookup.
Then the phone call. Her mom’s voice shaky on the other end. Her whole life upended overnight.
The three years between that phone call and the night Lux packed up her things and left the rental house she couldn’t afford anymore had been a blur, and she emerged from them to find she hadn’t managed to hold onto even the smallest part of her life before. Friends had gotten tired of never-returned texts and phone calls, they’d never had any family in California, and her dad… well, she’d blown any chance of them actually having a relationship right the fuck up.
Lux has been sleepwalking ever since—working to pay the renton a run-down apartment she shares with three other girls, and thinking only as far ahead as the next week, sometimes just the next day.
But as she stares at Nico’s drawings, something in her seems to wake up.
“How long would that take?” she asks, and he shrugs.
“To Hawaii? Three weeks, could be a little longer, little shorter. Depends on a lot of things.”
“You’re going alone?”
Lux tries to imagine how it would feel to be in the middle of all that water, all on her own, the only thing between her and death a fiberglass hull and her own skills. It seems terrifying, but also… exhilarating?
“I guess that depends on a lot of things, too,” Nico replies, smiling up at her, and Lux’s heart does a neat flip in her chest.
The rest of the evening goes by in a haze. She has other tables, but she’s constantly aware of Nico, her eyes repeatedly drawn to his dim corner of the restaurant. When her shift ends and he’s still there, waiting for her, it’s like the sun coming out.
It’s like her entire life is suddenly starting over again.
NOW
FIVE
“Wait, so you don’t actually like boats?”
Brittany and I are in the canned-goods aisle at Foodland, stocking up on supplies. The repairs on theSusannahare nearly finished, and we leave as soon as possible—hence the shopping trip. Amma had decided to stay at the marina, wrinkling her nose at the suggestion of going to the store.
