“Yeah, she saw it a few days ago when she was picking up laundry. She said she doesn’t care. Dad, on the other hand, would care a lot, so let’s not tell him.”
I nod. “What are you ‘planning’?”
She smiles. “Come see for yourself.”
It’s been a few days since I’ve looked at her bunk bed artwork. I kneel down next to her to find not only more hearts inside other hearts, but also tiny words in the spaces between the hearts. “What does it say?”
“Look closer. You’ve got two eyes.”
I crawl up on the bed and read aloud: “Color my hair…Do something unpredictable…Swim in the ocean…Fall in love…Eat sushi…Feed a sea lion.” I do a double take at the last one. “Feed a sea lion?”
“Yep. Yesterday, while I was walking on the beach, I saw a guy tossing fish guts to two sea lions in the surf. All three of them seemed like they were having so much fun. The sea lions acted almost like they were his pets. Every time he threw something to them, they’d bark for more.” She stares at her own words on the wood. “I want to do these things this summer, while I still can.”
“Cool.”
“I know. I’m going to do them all, and once I’m done, I’ll add more things to the list.”
“You sure you’re gonna fall in love?”
“Hey, don’t burst my bubble. If I want to fall in love, I can.”
“But not with Tanner, though…right?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. It could be anyone. I just think I deserve to fall in love, and so I’m going to.”
I don’t see how, but whatever. “So when are you going to start?”
“Falling in love?”
“Any of these things.”
With a long sigh, Ann flops back on her pillow and stares up. Then she lifts a finger and presses it against the plywood. Slowly, she traces the outermost heart, like it’s written in Braille. “Soon,” she replies nervously. After a few more seconds she scoots to the edge of the mattress and stands up.
“How soon?”
“Like now.”
“Like, now now?”
“Right now.”
“Where are you going?”
“Out.”
“Out where?”
“Somewhere.”
“Can I come?”
“Sorry. Not this time.”
“Why? What are you going to do?”
She looks at me for a long time, like she isn’t so sure herself. Then, with a little smile, she makes up her mind. “I’ll start with something unpredictable…then see what happens next.”
I cross my arms and tilt my head. “Are you telling Mom you’re going?”
“I have Page in my pocket. I’m fine. Besides, I’ll be back long before she finishes reading Grandma’s journals.”
“What about your cell phone, in case we need to call you?”
She shrugs. “It needs a charge. Besides, you know how spotty the reception is here. But don’t worry. I’m totally fine.”
“I don’t know, Ann. Maybe you should just let her know.”
Ann frowns. “We both know if I ask permission she’ll say no. Or she’ll make me take you or Cade along to babysit me. But right now, I just need to live a little.” She points to the words on the underside of the bed. “My bucket list is calling.” She pauses. “Tell you what, I’ll spot you fifty points for next week’s round of the Winner’s Game if you just let me go without telling Mom.”
Fifty points! Sucker…
“Deal,” I say without hesitation. “Enjoy being unpredictable.”
Chapter 21
Ann
THERE’S PLENTY of stuff I could be looking at on my walk into town—kites flying above houses, seagulls on the breeze, white fluffy clouds blowing in off the ocean—but I can’t take my eyes off the couple walking ahead of me. What are they, like twelve? They don’t look old enough to watch a PG movie by themselves, let alone date, and yet they’re holding hands like they’ve been doing so for years. As we continue walking, they’re laughing like they haven’t got a care in the world.
Seeing them makes me a little jealous. Not of them, per se, but of carefree people in general. How would it be to be like that? How would it be to be impulsive, to not hold back, to just put yourself out there with people and not be scared of the consequences? How would it feel to have no regrets at the end of the day and to live like there’s no tomorrow?
Bree’s like that. I bet she’s held hands with guys before. Maybe even kissed one or two of them. Of course she’s never had to worry that there might not be a tomorrow. Maybe she wouldn’t be so spontaneous if she was constantly battling worries that her heart might burst.