Page 74 of The Beach Shack Artists 3
“And Tyler’s been taking better photos since I started pointing out his terrible angles,” Stella added with a grin.
“My angles are not terrible,” Tyler protested.
“Dad, yesterday you tried to photograph Bernie from below. He looked like a very grumpy mountain.”
Tyler paused, considering this. “That’s... actually fair.”
“Plus,” Stella continued, “someone needs to keep Anna from turning the dining room into a sculpture garden again.”
“That was one time!” Anna protested.
“It was last week, Anna.”
Bea was practically bouncing in her seat. “So you’ll stay? We could go look at the school tomorrow, check out the photography lab?—“
“I didn’t say I was staying,” Stella said quickly. “I said I feel like I belong here. Those are different things.”
The table deflated slightly.
"I'd have to talk to Mum," Stella continued. "About school transfers, and visas, and completely changing everything we planned."
She looked around at their faces, then focused on Tyler. "She might hate the idea."
A pause, then quietly, "Dad? What do you think? Do you want me to stay?"
Tyler felt his throat tighten. "More than anything," he said, his voice rough. "But only if it's what you want. Not because we need you to keep us organized, not because Bea's already planned your entire senior year—because you want to be here."
“Are you happy here?” Anna asked gently.
Stella thought about it, twirling noodles around her fork. “Yeah. Really happy. Which is weird because you’re all completely insane and I should probably be running for the airport.”
“But you’re not,” Bea said hopefully.
“But I’m not,” Stella agreed. “I’m sitting here eating Thai food and considering completely upending my life because you idiots have somehow convinced me that family chaos is better than being sensible and organized.”
“We’re a bad influence,” Tyler said solemnly.
“The worst,” Stella confirmed. “It’s brilliant.”
“So, you’ll think about it?” Anna asked gently. “Really think about it?”
Stella nodded slowly. “Yeah. I’ll think about it. But no pressure or anything,” she added with a pointed look around the table.
“No pressure,” Bea said immediately, then paused. “But if you do stay, we’re definitely taking Photography together. And maybe we could work for the school newspaper. And?—“
“Bea,” Anna warned.
“Right. No pressure.” Bea grinned. “Just mild enthusiasm and detailed planning.”
“Mental,” Stella said, but she was smiling.
“The best kind of mental,” Tyler said, and meant it completely.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Stella sat on Meg’s couch, trying not to fidget while Bea worked on her hair. The living room was full of nervous energy—everyone was almost dressed and ready, but that didn’t stop the usual Walsh family chaos.
Tyler stood by the window, checking his camera settings again. “Do I really need to bring this?”
