Page 46 of Distant Shores
She seemed young, twenty at most, taller than me, with little freckles on her cheeks, long dark-brown hair, and kind, brown-and-green eyes.
Eyes the same mossy shade of green as Adair’s.
Theexactsame.
“I’m sorry you heard us talking about condoms,” Adeline said, making a face. “My brother likes to think he’s everyone’s lifeguard. He’ll probably hear about the statistics of the high rate of sexually transmitted diseases within communities like this during our work orientation tomorrow, so don’t be surprised if you catch him going door to door, handing out supplies and pamphlets like the contraception bunny. Or maybe the… sex safety seahorse?”
She turned to her brother as if it were a real question,but he was aggressively cleaning his glasses with a bright purple lens cloth.
“So, anyway,” she continued with a shrug, “You are, right? Our new roommate? It has to be you, with those eyes.”
I frowned at the weird comment and considered lying to this sweet, blabbering girl’s face for a moment. I really did.
Butdammit, this was a dream situation, condom talk aside. And I was so desperate for a bed that I would probably agree to room with literally anyone at this point.
“Yes,” I said simply.
“Awesome. I’m gonna get started on unpacking our stuff.” She clapped her brother’s shoulder. “Addy can show you the lease, and then we can help you get your stuff too. Then we can get to know each other!” She literally skipped out of the room and out of the house.
“Wow,” I breathed, watching her go. I wouldn’t have been surprised if there were a trail of glitter left in her wake.
Normally, someone as high octane as Adeline would’ve exhausted me, but I actually felt more alert and alive than I had in.…
There was a light touch at my elbow, and then Adair was there, his glasses back on.
“I won’t apologize for my sister,” Adair said as he stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets, which creased his baggy forest-green shirt. “I’ve spent years drilling it into her head that she should never apologize for existing. But… you’ll get used to her bluntness. And enthusiasm.”
My gaze snapped to him at that, and my heart kicked again, before lying back down. We had a sign in both dance rooms at my old studio, With a Flourish, that saidalmost that exact same thing. Dad had burned the sayings onto a piece of wood we’d salvaged after a storm.
Grace for all, butespecially for you.
The first thing we taught tots, teens, and all dancers in between, even before first position and the plié, was to not apologize for mistakes. For trying.
For taking up space.
I hadn’t thought about those signs in a long time.
Adair’s gaze held me captive—more green than brown today—flicking between my eyes and then across the planes of my face. The longer he searched, the more intense the lines between his brows became.
It looked like concern.
I broke away and made a good show of taking in the house. It was almost the same layout as Miss Lenny’s next door, just with an extra bedroom, according to Jillie.
I shook my head because damn the universe for mocking me like this. For fear and pride that made me wait so long to ask for help again, only for it to work in my favor after so many times when it didn’t.
“What is it?” Adair asked, stepping to my side.
The past month flashed in my memory, but I didn’t need photo evidence —or lack of—to know one thing about Adair.
“You haven’t been here.”
Since a tool belt started haunting me.
Since life lost color.
Adair gripped the back of his neck and looked down at his feet. “No. I wanted to be, but… we’re here now. For the summer.”
I’d almost asked about him a few times while visiting Apartment 3A, almost asked Wilbur about his grandson, but I’d stopped myself. If his family wasn’t visiting him, Wilbur didn’t need a reminder of that, and I certainlywasn’t one to throw stones. I watched Adair’s expressive face, ignoring the pathetic thump of my heart as the longer I looked, the more seriously it considered reviving itself.
