Two Masked Hearts - ✓ #WattysShorts

Ten

The test really wasn't that bad. We did it separately, and the nurse told us that our results would be available the next day, or much more likely Wednesday.

"This was a good idea," I admitted when we got back into my car.

"Did your test go okay?" Miles asked, and I nodded.

"The nurse looked so weird with all of her protective gear on. It was kinda like an apocalyptic movie."

"We kind of are in an apocalypse, if you think about it," he said.

Though there weren't zombies roaming the streets, he did have a point. "So what are we going to do now?" I asked, changing the subject. "What's your big plan?"

"No big plan," Miles said with a shrug. "Any ideas?"

"You're probably sick of the beach."

"I'm not," he said with reassuring eyes. "You want to go to the beach?"

I nodded with a smile. "Yeah."

"Then let's go."

I drove to the public access beach since it was closer to his house. I parked in a spot, happily observing the parking meter that said, "FREE UNTIL NEXT SEASON!" We walked onto the sand. There was a fair amount of people here, despite it being off-season. They were mostly spread apart, but it was a little more crowded than I would have liked.

As if he could read my mind, Miles said, "C'mon, I know a more private spot."

I smiled. One of the perks of being accompanied by a local. He led me across the beach until we reached a rocky area. "Be careful, these can get really slippery," Miles warned.

"Okay."

I used my hands to balance myself and essentially crawl over the rocks. The waves crashed against them, creating a slick surface on the dark stone. I slid a few times, but I quickly regained my balance. Miles asked me, like, five times within the span of thirty seconds if I was doing okay, and each time I replied, "Yep."

Finally, Miles hopped off of a rock and nearly disappeared from view. I peered over where he went down and saw him standing securely on sand. I looked around and saw a beautiful little cove with no one except us. I slid down the rocks until my flip flops met the sand. I kicked them off and followed Miles away from the rocks.

"I come here a lot. Sometimes to do my homework, and sometimes if I just want to get away from life for a while."

"It's beautiful," I exhaled.

"Now my spot can be our spot." I could tell he was smiling, but I wasn't as happy as he appeared to be. I was having an incredible time with him, but I knew that it would come to an end on Friday.

"This is very nice," I assured him, "but I don't know that there can be an us." I felt a pang of guilt as the light ran from his eyes and his body expression morphed, like he was shrinking into himself.

"I know you're leaving," he mumbled, almost too quietly for me to hear over the waves, "but no one has ever made me feel like this. I feel so incredible; alive. I can't imagine not having you by my side, going on weird and crazy adventures."

"I feel the same way," I reassured him, "but I just don't know what's going to happen when I leave."

Miles shook his head. "Don't talk like that. Please. We have five more days, four after today. I have classes and stuff, but we can make the most of our time. And we'll get our test results back and we can figure it out after. But not before Friday, okay?"

I sighed. All of that sounded so perfect, but I couldn't help but fear getting too attached and leaving heartbroken. Still, I felt so connected to him that I couldn't say anything except for, "Okay."

* * *

"Hey, Dad," I answer my phone.

"Hey Lyn-drop. What's going on?"

"Not much," I shrug, finishing folding the clean clothes that I had sprawled across my bed. "Doing laundry."

"Oh, that's good." He paused for a long moment. I could hear him breathing at the other end, and I began to worry. Before I could ask if everything was okay, he dropped the bomb: "Sweetheart, we're selling the beach house."

I dropped the striped shirt I was holding onto a pile of folded tops, knocking the first two off the stack. "What?" I asked, even though I heard him perfectly. I just didn't want it to be true.

"We're selling the North Carolina house. Your mom asked me to tell you. She didn't want to be the one to break it to you." I didn't care that she was too much of a coward to tell me, I cared that they decided to throw away eighteen years of memories that I had in this house.

"I don't understand." I shook my head in disbelief. "Why?"

"Your mom and I just think it's best if we put the past behind us."

"Because this is the family house," I translated for him. "And we're no longer a family."

A single tear rolled down my cheek. I felt a strong urge to hurl my phone against the wall, to get in my jeep and drive. Somewhere far away, maybe to California or Canada. Or maybe straight into the ocean.

"Oh, honey drop, we're still a family." I could hear the southern twang in his voice as he said this. Usually I couldn't detect it, it was a lot subtler. "Our family just looks a little . . . different now."

"I can't believe this. I can't believe you guys." After what happened with Ashley and now this, it felt like everyone was turning against me.

"This wasn't my first choice," my dad told me, but I suspected that was an outright lie. "But it's what's best for us. And your mom and I need you to bring back our stuff, and then we'll have an agent come by the house and sell it."

"So since I'm conveniently here, I'm just expected to pack up all of our history and bring it back to Virginia like I'm bringing home groceries." I felt a sharp anger in my chest, and it took all of my self control not to just hang up right then and there.

"It would be a big help," he admitted, not even bothering to deny it.

"Fine. I'll bring the stuff." I saw no point in fighting it, even though it felt like they were tearing away a part of me. A big part. A bigger part, now that I'd met Miles.

"Thank you, sweetie. Your mom and I love you very much, and—"

I sharply cut him off, not wanting to hear him out. "Okay, whatever. I'll see you on Friday with a box of your things."

"Thank you. B—"

I hung up before he could say good-bye. I paced around my room, too angry to cry. Then I went for a run. When I got back, I decided I'd start packing things up, so I started upstairs, throwing pieces of my childhood carelessly in cardboard boxes.