Traces of Delilah

Eight

Then he continued, "As you can see, my sister has more melanin than me. She took after my dad and my older brother, Jonah's, lead in the looks department. You know, the black curly hair, darker brown eyes, and stuff.

"While I look like an adopted child. But that's because I look almost exactly like my mom, except she was extremely pale in comparison to me, and she had long curly auburn hair, and freckles."

"So, that's where the freckles, and the red hair comes from," I mumbled to myself, "then, you and your siblings are mixed, Black and White? And you're the middle child?"

"Correct." He chuckled. That's when I realized he said his mom was those things, as if she wasn't anymore. Come to think of it, his mother wasn't anywhere to be found.

"She passed away when Camille turned seventeen. She's nineteen now, in case you were wondering," he filled in all the missing blanks. I could feel heat rushing to my cheeks. I hadn't meant to pry. Though, he willingly said it because he could see me thinking about it. But still.

I cleared my throat and changed the subject. "So, is the East side where all the rich people go or something? You know, like in Manhattan, where most of the wealthy people can afford to live." I shrugged.

He laughed. "Not necessarily. This is just where you'll find most of the big, beautiful estates. You know, mansions, pretty housing complexes, etc. But there's not a lot of things to do here. There are a few large playgrounds outside the community, but that's about it. The Upper East side of Baskerville is like its own island, compared to the rest of town."

"So, there are way more things to do when you go deep into town? Okay, stay away from the Upper East side if I don't want to be bored. Noted."

"Right." He threw his head back and laughed again.

I couldn't help but admire the dimple in his cheek again. This was the second time I had been alone with him. When I was around Andrew, I felt at ease. There was no worry clouding my judgement. There was no pain constricting my chest. It wasn't anything like what I'd felt with several others so far. Did that mean Delilah didn't know Andrew? But Camille associated with her. So, that didn't make sense.

Maybe she didn't interact with him enough to feel anything. I wanted to ask. I wanted to see if anyone recalled anything about Delilah. But I'd might have been over stepping my boundaries. But it was damn sure tempting.

After arriving in town, he found a place to park, so we could explore by foot for the day. There was some kind of event going on in a nearby park that we spent over an hour at. Afterwards, we spent nearly three hours walking—past movie theaters, random shops, skating rinks, and other things I didn't even think could fit in this town. But none of that could beat the inside of the massive lighthouse he drove us to.

"Wow," was all I could manage.

The outside of the lighthouse was old and rusty. It sat by the edge of the sea on the far-end of the beach, in the far corner of town, surrounded by a fairly small neighborhood that looked like its own town. There were only about twenty houses and they all scattered along the same strip, going downhill towards the beach.

But the inside of the lighthouse was a different story.

"Are you sure this neighborhood isn't its own island?"

"It looks like it, doesn't it?" Andrew chuckled.

"We're so far. I know it's only a few miles down the road, but we look like we're completely split from the rest of town. Look!" I pointed past the houses, to the small buildings in the distance. "That's how far we are!"