Polaroids and Postcards | ✔️

Chapter 14: Lightyears + Golden Years

"Traveling tends to magnify all human emotions." — Peter Hoeg

•••

If at all possible, the beach was more beautiful by night. The rich, warm colors of twilight melted away into the thick indigo of night, letting the twinkling light of the stars just barely peep through. The beach was basically empty. All of the people had gone home or driven away for the night. We were the only ones left to see the immaculate beauty of that moment. The breeze had a soft chill in it, making my fingers tingle and my toes throb—or was that from the thrill from the crazy stunt we pulled? It didn't really matter though. I was dizzy with leftover excitement and I felt a warmth swelling in the deepest part of my chest. It was a pleasurable feeling, because with it came the fleeting-yet-still-present confidence that I could do absolutely anything.

"You're quiet," Della commented, stretching a little.

We were in her car with the seats adjusted all the way back, and the convertible roof was folded down. Della had suggested this when the stars began to make their appearance, and I relented. And I was kind of glad that I did. It was like camping—only better.

She let out a barely audible sigh as she repositioned herself into a more comfortable position.

"So are you," I returned, folding my hands behind my head. "And I'm not complaining."

"Oh, I wasn't complaining," she chuckled, "just stating the obvious."

"Obviously."

"Hilarious, Lovett."

"I know."

"And conceited too."

"Ouch," I whined, mockingly. "How dare you state the obvious with such bluntness?"

"You're one to talk, pal!" Della snorted.

"Yeah, I know..." I admitted, shrugging a little.

The moon was so full and bright, it scared me a little. How could something so commonplace be that beautiful so suddenly? I'd never truly studied the moon. Why should I? It was just the moon—it was always there and it always would be there. It was just something I took for granted.

"Why are you like that?" she asked.

The question seemed like it was loaded to me. So I just stuck with a simple, "Like what?"

"I mean, why are you so blunt? You usually are most of the time."

"I just say what I think. And it comes off as too blunt or rude. But, honestly, it seems ridiculous to have to reword things to avoid hurting people's feelings. I mean, people should just say what they mean and be mature enough to accept it at face value."

"Hmm..."

Della yawned and stretched her arms up above her in the air like a little kid. It was strange lying there next to her. I would've expected it to be a little more awkward. I mean, it was weird for me to share a motel room with her... but this felt different. Maybe it was because it didn't feel like we were totally alone. The stars and the moon seemed to be watching us.

"Jason, tell me something I don't know about you."

"Totally not random at all," I laughed uncomfortably. I recalled Grant & Gracie once more and cursed at myself for not remembering to call them earlier.

"I'm serious, Jason. Tell me about your life."

"Why?" I let the cooling air rush into my lungs and escape in a slow breath.