Somewhere Between Water and Sky (Shattered Things #2) (5 page)

She lifts her arms above her head and walks in front of me, lifting her chin to the chandeliers in the lobby.

“
This is all natural, Stephanie.
”
She drops her arms and reaches for Ren
’
s belt buckle, pulling him closer so she can lean on his shoulder. Her lips part in an unbelievably wide smile.
“
I can
’
t believe you actually came down! Ren owes me twenty bucks.
”
She blinks her eyes at him, holding out her hand.
“
Now or later, loverboy?
”

He blushes and grabs her hand.
“
I will choose to evade that question in favor of hearing Stephanie
’
s favorite breakfast food.
”

Jessa
’
s eyes pop even wider than they were and she turns to me.

“
Breakfast! You haven
’
t eaten and this continental shit is
no
match to local cuisine.
”
She snarls and points toward the small enclave where scents of stale waffles and contrived sausages take over.
“
What
’
ll it be, Steph?
”

I think for a moment.

“
I want real eggs. And bacon. And maybe french toast.
”

Jessa and Ren look at each other and smile.

“
Americana!
”

Jessa grabs my hand and pulls me toward the door.
“
You
’
ll love this place
—
it
’
s about halfway between here and San Diego, so it
’
ll be a bit of a wait, but I promise
—
it
’
s so worth it.
”

“
How far is San Diego from here?
”

“
About two and a half hours, if we leave now.
”

Two and a half hours?

I
’
m beginning to second guess things. That
’
s two and a half hours in the car with people I don
’
t know. Two and a half hours away from this nice safe place I
’
ve found for myself here. My mind shifts back to Marisol and I know I look panicked. I can
’
t help it.

“
Wait.
”
I pull my hand away and begin to back away slowly.
“
I
’
m beginning to realize just how crazy this is
…
sorry. Go without me.
”

“
Oh no you don
’
t.
”
Jessa leans forward and grabs my hand again.
“
Relax.
One of my favorite places in all the world is in San Diego. Have you heard of Sunset Cliffs?
”

I pause.

“
Sunset Cliffs? Is that what you said?
”

“
Yeah. It
’
s this incredible place where you can watch the sun set over the Pacific. If we
’
re lucky you can see the surfers who risk getting slammed up against the rock.
”
She winks. Ren rolls his eyes.

“
I know about Sunset Cliffs. I
’
ve always wanted to go
…”
I can
’
t help but offer a small smile.
“
Okay. Just one question. Do you know Sam Tiller?
”

Confused eyes stare back at me.

“
Who?
”

I ignore the question, satisfied.

“
What about a Joey? Do you know a Joey?
”

Ren leans in around Jessa.
“
Tribiani?
”

I blink.
“
Um. No.
”

Jessa swats at his arm.

“
Ow! Jesus.
”
He scowls and rubs his arm, shaking his head.
“
I don
’
t know a Joey, Stephanie.
”

I breathe easier. I
’
m not sure what
’
s happening, but for the first time in months, flesh and bone conversation has me almost giddy with anticipation.

“
Okay then. I
’
m in.
”

We walk outside and Jessa shivers.

“
It
’
s chilly today.
”

“…
it
’
s 50 degrees.
”

She turns and nods, her eyes serious.

“
Right. Chilly. Where are you from, Canada?
”

I shake my head, offering no other specifics.

She grunts and turns to Ren, her voice taking on a British lilt.
“
You
’
re right. She
’
s an enigma, this one!
”

We get to the car in the garage and I walk right past Ren
’
s car before realizing it. Turning around, I stare at the car and then back at him.

“
This is yours?
”

His lips curve up a little.

“
Yeah? Why?
”

“
It
’
s a Jeep! With like
…
no cover!
”
My face breaks into a huge grin.

Jessa hops in the front seat and stands to face me.
“
Stop gawking and just get in, girl! The green eggs and ham are calling my name!
”

I blink. For the millionth time in less than an hour I
’
m speechless.

What
…
in the hell?

I make my way to the side behind Ren and Jessa shakes her head, motioning me behind her.

“
You
’
ll want this side. Promise.
”

“…
Why?
”

“
Just
trust
me. It
’
s not like Fabio has gas or anything but
…”
she widens her eyes and looks knowingly at me.

“
What the fuck, Jess? No.
”
He catches my gaze.
“
It
’
s for the ocean view. You
’
ll want to be on that side to see it.
”
He turns back to Jessa and shakes his head muttering under his breath.
“
I swear.
”

Jessa just giggles.

“
You know you love me, Renfro.
”

Given how Ren burns rubber squealing to get out of the garage, he doesn
’
t necessarily agree. I fight back the laughter building in my throat.

When he gains control and we find ourselves on the road, Ren clears his throat and glances to his right.
“
Jessa, you will be the end of me.
”

She answers by throwing up her arms above her head and screaming at the top of her lungs.

.::.

When we get to Americana, I almost don
’
t want to get out of the Jeep. For the past thirty miles, I
’
ve been staring at the waves crash against each other on the shore. I want to be out there
—
feeling my toes dip into the sand and watching the way the waves rush to meet me, trying to pull me out into the depths with them. If I were standing there on the sand, I have no doubt I would feel the temptation deeper than my bones to walk as far as I could go.

The waves are alluring. Hypnotic, even. Watching them crash against the seawall, I remember a poem from my literature class with Mrs. Peabody. It referenced the constancy of waves. The going, the pulling, the bringing back. Like memories and time, it all comes back. Everything changes and moves and disappears or ages, but not waves. Waves are constant. A moving piece of time.

Waves are like the sunrise.

Jessa steps down and stretches her back.

“
Oh my gosh I am so hungry.
”

My stomach roars and gives away my own need for food and I realize I haven
’
t eaten since lunch the day before. I think of french toast drizzled with syrup and runny eggs and bacon and it
’
s all I can do to keep from running ahead of Jessa to find a spot inside.

Ren meets us and asks for a booth, and we are seated within minutes
—
just beating the rush of travelers stopping for brunch. By the time we grab drinks and are looking through the menu, the line stretches out the door.

Jessa looks up at me from behind the menu.
“
Are you 21? The mimosas here are
amazing.
”

I raise an eyebrow.
“
I
’
m
…
18.
”

She squints and I look away.

Why does she always do that? It
’
s like she
’
s trying to see into my soul.

I cross my arms in front of me. Just in case.

“
You hesitated.
”

“
I did.
”

“
Did you forget your age?
”

“
Do you have something in your eye?
”

She blinks and Ren spits out his water.

Jessa turns her head and looks at Ren then back at me.
“
What?
”

“
You were squinting. Looked like your eyes were dry or something. I don
’
t know. Made me uncomfortable. And to answer your question, yes. I did forget. I just had a birthday and it slipped my mind.
”

She beams and claps her hands, completely dismissing my comment about her habitual squinting.

“
A birthday! And an important one! Did you have a massive party? What did your parents do? Tell me everything.
”

Her face is earnest and Ren glances from me to her before leaning forward.
“
Or, rather than telling us your life story,
”
he makes a face at Jessa and she shrugs, taking a sip of her water.
“
How about you just decide what you want to eat and we can talk once we have food in our stomachs.
”

He jerks his thumb toward Jessa as she studies her eyeliner in a compact.
“
This one gets feisty when hangry.
”

I take a sip of my water to hide my own laughter and nod.
“
Noted.
”

Jessa snaps the compact shut and looks from Ren to me. She twists her lips.

“
Seriously?
”

I focus on the people outside on the patio. Ren
’
s smile twitches. Realizing she
’
s not going to get anything from him, she shakes her head.

“
Oh Renfro,
”
she whispers.
“
Don
’
t you know not to poke the bear?
”

Renfro and I exchange a smile while she pouts behind the menu.

.::.

Jessa and Ren have taken to a game they call Figure Out the Stephanie. All I have to do to participate is say yes or no. I placate them
—
for now. What I really want is to dig in to this massive plate of cinnamon dusted french toast.

“
You were part of a circus.
”