Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 117363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
The ocean came up on their left, so close and so vast Jean wasn’t sure how the cars weren’t sliding off the road into it. On his right, buildings and storefronts gave way to rocky hills covered with scattered tufts of underbrush. Maybe it was the tint in his visor, but the cloudless sky looked deep enough to get lost in. The further north they went, the less traffic they had to contend with, and Jean could worry less about getting mutilated in a crash and more about the world unfurling all around him.
Oh, he thought. It’s so big.
It was such an inane observation he bit his own tongue in annoyance, but that nagging sense of wonder remained. On its heels was the dizzying realization he’d seen more of Los Angeles than he had of any other place he’d lived in his life. Back in Marseille he’d been homeschooled so his parents could keep an eye on him, and his youth Exy team had been only ten minutes up the road. The Ravens had traveled all over the northeast for games, but they’d been in and out of buses and planes and stadiums without any time to look around. Kevin’s postcards had been Jean’s only real glimpse of the greater world outside of Evermore.
He and Cat stopped for dinner at a café on the beach where the outdoor tables were covered with thatch umbrellas and half of the patrons were sipping cocktails from carved fruits. The wait for outdoor seating was estimated to be close to half an hour, but Cat swore it was worth it as she put her name on the list.
If it wasn’t for the evening hour and the breeze coming in off the ocean, their jackets would have made the heat unbearable. Jean carried their helmets and gloves as they wandered the beach so Cat could dig up cracked sand dollars and seashells. She finally found one that was intact, and she ran down to the tide to rinse it off with childish glee. Jean obediently inspected it when she brought it back, and she tucked it into his breast pocket with a cheerful “For you!”
At last, they were called back to take their table. Almost everything on the menu would get a fierce side eye from the Ravens’ nurses, but Jean managed to find an inoffensive salad before he gave up hope entirely. Cat ordered the fish and chips and offered him a bite as soon as it was delivered. Jean waved her off, and Cat let it go with an exaggerated shrug. She hummed as she ate, as she tended to do when she was happy, and Jean watched her as she stared out at the ocean. Now that they were settled, he expected an interrogation or a reason for this unscheduled trip out.
When she failed to explain herself, Jean finally asked, “Why are we here?”
“I love it here,” Cat said, licking grease from her fingers before remembering she had a napkin. Before Jean had to press her again, she turned a more serious look on him. “I don’t know. I just felt like some fresh air would do you good. There’s nothing like a ride to get you out of your head and into the moment, you know?”
Jean considered that for a minute. “Thank you.”
“Not as terrible as you thought it’d be, right?” Cat asked. “I could teach you on the weekends if you want. We have an old bike at the house we used to practice on, but it’s just collecting dust now that all us kids have our own rides. They wouldn’t mind if I borrowed it for a bit, I’m sure. I could probably even talk Vivi into riding it down here for us.”
Jean wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so he asked, “How many are you?”
It startled some of the earnestness out of her, and she stared at him in contemplative silence for a bit. “I think that’s the first personal question you’ve asked me,” she said, and answered before he could reconsider. “Seven of us in total. I don’t really know the oldest two, though. They’re from Dad’s first marriage and they’ve got like ten years on me, so they left home when I was still little.
“Laila’s an only child,” she continued, though she’d told him that before. “Jeremy has—three. One sister, two brothers. The older brother’s an absolute tool, but there’s bound to be a jerk or two once you pass four kids.” Jean idly wondered what she’d changed at the last minute and why, but he watched her nervously push her fries around her plate and decided not to ask. Cat pressed on a moment later with, “What about you? Was I right about it being just you?”
It would be easy to let her believe it and save him any uncomfortable follow-up questions, but Jean attempted a bit of honesty. “One sister, four years younger. I haven’t spoken to her since I left home,” he said when Cat turned on him with renewed energy and interest. “Ravens are not allowed to have families.”