In Waves | ✔️

34 | the lighthouse

I slow to a stop, turning back to him. The softness of his features only lasts for a second before they harden into cool marble. Blocking off any vulnerability I might have caught a glimpse of.

"Why were you angry and bummed out?"

It's on the tip of his tongue. I can see it. But his eyes are just as hard as the marble, emerald stones lifting above me. "You ever been to the top of the lighthouse before?" He brushes past before I answer, pacing down the path.

"Nate." I follow him literally jogging away from the question, catching up on the skirts of the towering lighthouse. "I don't think we're actually allowed to go inside."

"Allowed?" He shoots me an amused look, lugging the heavy door open. "What, you think some grisly old lighthouse keeper is gonna chase us away with a pitchfork?"

"No, but now I think that."

Nate walks in, his quiet laugh echoing up the peeling walls. "I'll take full responsibility if some crazed dude comes wielding a pitchfork at you. But since these things run by themselves now, I think you're safe."

He leads the way up the creaky spiraled staircase. Up and up until my lungs are burning in protest.

"Why is it that every time I'm with you I end up doing a fricken' workout?" I huff when we finally reach the top.

His hands are splayed low on his hips. "Nothing wrong with getting the blood pumping, DeMarco. Think of it as a warmup for your next lesson."

"Days in advance. Totally makes sense." I lean against the glass dome as he walks around the huge lightbulb, opening the door to the wraparound balcony and letting in a stream of air. "Nope. Putting my foot down here."

Half of him has already stepped out. "For what?"

"I'm not going out there. If I do then I'll look down, and I'm afraid of heights."

"You are?"

I nod and he gives me a measuring look, slowly stepping back in. He then makes his way around the bulb to join me on the other side.

"Weren't so afraid on top of a Ferris wheel," he mumbles.

My head snaps to him. "That was different."

"Mm-hm." The edge of his mouth tics up. I'm surprised he's acknowledged the carnival at all.

I shift back to take in the view, feeling everything melt away from the sight. I didn't think we would be able to see much in the dark, but a glowing blanket of dotted lights is draped from the harbor to the peninsula, houses stretching high and low.

"Wow. You can see half of the town from up here," I say softly. "It almost looks... not like Oceanview."

"In a good way or a bad way?"

"A good way. It looks better like this."

"So you think it looks bad in the light of day."

"Not bad, just... I don't know." I look at Nate's faint reflection on the glass. "I guess I never pictured myself living in a town like this when I was little."

He looks at my reflection. "Where'd you picture yourself living, then?"

"Somewhere that gets cold. Like the mountains, in a little wood cabin or a cottage... nothing but trees for miles."

"Sounds lonely."

"Not if you're with the right person. Snuggled up by the fire with hot chocolate, talking, reading, playing music. Making snow angels together."

"Oh, so sand angels aren't good enough now, huh?"

"They're good enough for Oceanview." I laugh, watching his reflection look down at me.

"Yeah. I guess I can see the appeal if you're sharing it with someone. Otherwise living alone in the cold sounds like a nightmare. I'd never be able to live too far from the coast, anyway."

"Well, you'd probably like snowboarding. It's kind of similar to surfing, if you think about it. Riding slopes instead of waves. A pretty decent substitute."

He theatrically holds his chin. "Lia DeMarco. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to convince me to shack up with you in a snowy little mountain cabin."

"What? No." My heart thumps into my throat. "I'm just trying to get you to... broaden your horizons. You love beach life because you're used to it, but you don't know what you're missing with snow."

"I'm sure," he chimes, scanning over my flushed reaction. "I'll have to take your word for it, though. Might be a tad uncomfortable if I'm sitting by that fire with you and Matt."

His voice is playful, but I avoid his eyes, staring down at the sleeves of Matt's jacket. "Nate, do you think... nothing. Never mind."

"What?"

I scoop up a strand of hair, absently starting a braid. "It's not important."

"Not possible."

My fingers stop, eyes flitting to his. "Not everything I say is important."

"It is to me." His head tilts. "Even if it's about Matt. We're supposed to be friends, aren't we?"

"That doesn't mean I should talk to you about my relationship. It's weird."

"It's only weird if you make it weird."

I drop my braid, along with my reservations. "Okay. Do you think people can be too different to be together? Like if you have totally different interests and backgrounds and personalities? They say opposites attract, but what if that's only on the outside?"

He exhales heavily, eyebrows sinking. "I think being different can be more interesting. It sort of opens up new experiences and stuff. New perspectives."

"But what if I'm not suited for those experiences? What if I'm not cut out for his kind of life?" I counter, tugging at my sleeves. "He came here tonight, but he's partying with his friends now because that's where he really wants to be. And I don't want him to change his life to fit mine. And I don't want to change myself to fit him."

"So what, you'd rather have everything in common? Be so similar that you love doing all the same things?"

"Isn't it easier like that?"

He gives his head a curt shake. "Being similar isn't always a good thing."

"Is that why it didn't work out with you and Alex?"

His shoulders tense, chest stilling. I don't think he knew that I knew about them. 

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a/n: yes I'm ending this chapter mid-conversation, and yes the next one will pick up right where we left off. nate is about to spilllll 

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