Chapter 20: A Night in Horn Island

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The headlights of my car sweep around the curve in the street and stop short of Colby's mailbox. My flip flops smack the pavement as I hurry around to the passenger side. Warmth and safety radiate from the orange lights of the dashboard, soothing me in a way that the pier's tiki torches couldn't.

 "Are you okay?" Vin asks from the driver's seat.

 "I'm fine. Just drive," I say.

 We retreat to silence as he drives out of beach house central and back to the far side of the cove that tourists aren't aware exists. I hope to God he's not driving back to that pier. I don't question his intentions, just as he doesn't question my night at Colby's house, but I know he wants to know. He wants to know what happened, whether Colby was everything I thought he would be.

 "Go ahead and say it," I finally say. My voice cracks just slightly, and I know I can't stop the tears descending from my eyes. "You told me so."

He taps the brakes and slows to a stop in the middle of the street. "I wasn't going to say that," he says.

He puts the car in park, reaches over and brushes my hair out of my face, and stares at me in the glow of the dashboard. "I was going to say that I hate that you had to see it for yourself. I wasn't trying to be a jerk when I told you about him. I was just trying to protect you."

"I should've listened. You know more about him than I do. I just had this idea that he..." I can't even finish the sentence.

 Every idea I had about him was wrong. He isn't the carefree dreamer or forever chaser or fearless warrior I thought he was. He's a coward who is scared of the freedom he's bought himself. If manipulation and lies are his way to freedom, I'll take another route.

"He's not what you expected," Vin says, summing up all of my conclusions so simply.

I nod. "Exactly."

Vin pulls the gear back into drive and continues forth into the night. He veers onto one street then turns onto the next, and I don't think I could find my way back to the condo if my life depended upon it. We park next to a small business that's dark and lonely.

"C'mon," he says. "Get out. I want to show you something."

I grip the door handle but hesitate. I'm not really up for trespassing or any other crazy A.J.-like adventure tonight. Seeing Colby again was enough adventure for me. I still can't believe I chased him across the country just to find out everything I thought was dead wrong. I'm almost glad his parents think he's dead. They wouldn't recognize the person their son has become.

"Haley?" Vin leans back into the car. "Are you waiting for the apocalypse? Because I don't think it's going to happen tonight."

I push the door open and step onto the pavement. An oval-shaped metal sign hangs over the entrance, but I can only see the side of it bulging out toward us. I follow Vin to the front door, and the silver letters are all too familiar. Jake McAllister Photography.

"He had an actual studio?" I ask. "I thought he just shot underwater."

Vin unlocks the front door and drops his keys back into his pocket. He twists the doorknob, reaches inside, and flips on a light. But he doesn't go in.

"I rarely come here. I think I've been inside twice since he died. Topher comes out here about once a month and flips the lights on and runs the water in the back, just to keep this place from dying," he says.

He pushes the door open, and the room bursts with color. Surfboards, palm trees, waves, and tropical fish. More sharks, a few dolphins, and the most amazing snapshot of Topher and Vin that seriously melts my heart. I hate to ask how long these pictures have been hanging on the walls, how long they've hidden in this dark studio rather than being seen by the world. Shark had a gift, even if it was "just a job."

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