She Dims the Stars(18)

She’s been in the dunes for over an hour looking through them, and while she’s calmed down, she hasn’t spoken at all, and I’m not sure if I’m supposed to approach her or not. This is what we came for. We figured the beach was the best place to go, so we headed that way, and I’ve been on the edge of the water ever since, hoping the cops don’t show up. They haven’t yet.

Audrey’s face is downcast, partly hidden behind the tall grasses in the dunes and the shadows that are starting to form as the sun sets. Her skin glows orange from the distant burning of the last rays of the sun, and I take in her posture as she sits cross legged and shoeless in the sand. Her long black skirt is bunched up over her knees and covered in soft white sand, her teal v-neck t-shirt hangs open as she reads over the books scattered around her. I’ve walked closer and am staring, like I do. It’s a thing my mom says I’ve done my entire life: I’m a people watcher.

It’s probably why I’m good at making molds and creatures, characters and profiles for games. I catch the subtle things about people that others might just overlook or discount. I store them away, because the little things are what make up the whole of a person.

This girl pulls at her clothes unconsciously, especially around her stomach, like she’s never exactly comfortable in her own skin. She’s wearing a bracelet made of soda can tops and elastic today, and as she reads, she alternates between tucking her hair behind her ears and fussing with the aluminum against her skin. She’s always moving.

“Hey, girl,” I say as I approach and watch her jump slightly, her head rolling upward to acknowledge me. “Are you from Tennessee?”

She laughs and shakes her head, then closes the journal in her lap and stretches her legs out, letting her skirt fold down a little as she points her toes out. She pats the sand next to her and then wipes her hands off on her knees. “Am I the only ten you see, Elliot?”

“Damnit, you beat me to it.” I sit down next to her and pull my knees to my chest, resting my arms on top of them as I gaze out at the ocean and the last remnants of the sunset.

“There aren’t that many girls on the beach tonight, so I don’t have much competition anyway,” she says with a laugh. Her posture straightens and she holds up the book. “My mom was a badass, Elliot. These first diaries, or whatever, were from when she was super young, like, grade school and middle school. So they’re mostly about friends and stupid shit. A few mentions of Ruth and her being too strict. Nothing really important. But then I got to these …”

I turn to look at the ones she’s pointing to, and she runs her hand over the top of the stack. There are four full journals in the sand and another in her hand. Her eyes are wide, and the breeze from the sea lifts her hair from behind her ears, making it stick out from the side of her head and flutter in the wind. I reach out and tuck it back in and she doesn’t flinch, just stares at me from a few inches away.

“These are from when she was in high school and things got rough at home, I guess. I mean I haven’t read through all of them, and Ruth said my mom was a good daughter before she met my dad, but this says the opposite. My mom ran away and hitchhiked across a bunch of states before she met Patrick. That’s how they got together. She was on her way to a concert.” She smiles so big, and I can see her eyes start to water before she turns her head and tries to be discreet about wiping at them. She clears her throat and looks back across the water. “Anyway. She went from here to Tennessee according to these. But nothing mentions another guy. Plus, these are all dated at the time she met Patrick, and I wasn’t born for another fifteen years.”

“This was about finding out who your mom was, right? Not the guy.”

She doesn’t look at me, just messes with her bracelet again and nods. “Yeah. I wanted to know my mom. That’s all. And this is perfect. We can head back whenever you’re ready. I got what I needed.”

There’s something in the way that she says it that makes me hesitate. “Where did she go first?”

Audrey turns to me, her upper body angled at mine and her eyebrows drawn together, mouth pulled into a frown. “Not far. She spent the first night here, actually. On the beach. Sleeping under the stars. Complained about the sand lice and stuff in the morning.” She laughs and puts the book down in the sand. “Obviously, sleeping on the beach is illegal and you can get arrested for it, so it’s a good thing she didn’t try to do it now.”

I shrug. “Or we could. We could sleep here tonight. Then go where she went next.”

“You want to follow my mom’s trail? You don’t have to do that. That would be weird.”

“Why?” I reach out and stop her from touching the metal around her wrist, holding her fingers between mine. She goes still as we both look down at where we’re touching, and I glance up just as the sun slips beyond the horizon. “When you called that night and we went to the diner, you said you wanted to run away. Maybe it’s in your DNA. Maybe you need to. Just like your mom.”

“There’s a lot of stuff in my DNA. Doesn’t mean I should just go off and do whatever.” She snatches her hand away from mine and stands quickly, gathering up the books and reaches for her shoes. “It’s all nice in theory, but …”

I stand too and take a step back to watch her wage a war within herself as she weighs the options I’ve presented. “But, what? Come on. Run away with me, Audrey.”