Page 67 of The Last Special Thing

He didn’t say anything else, so she shifted the conversation. “I think I’m going to go to L.A. this week to check it out. I don’t want my first time exploring to be when I’m trying to move in.” Then she added, “I want to find all the best spots to bring you!”

She had already pictured it. He would visit on the weekends. They would sneak into dive bars near the college, watch live music, and spend the night together in her apartment-style dorm.

“That sounds rad. You want company?”

Amelia chewed on the inside of her lip. “I was thinking of inviting Madisson. This was supposed to be our summer together, and we haven’t had any one-on-one time.”

Art’s eyes shone a glacier blue, specks resembling diamonds within them. “That’s cool. Bring me back something, alright?”

“Of course! Gift giving is my love language.”

She loved that he didn’t feel the need to be attached to her.

“Whoa, check out those daffodils!” Art pointed where the concrete slab met the grass.

The plant was a neon yellow and moved up and down, waving to her. She gave a polite wave back, then gazed up at the plum-tinted sky.

“Let’s lie down,” Art suggested.

He moved onto a patch of lime green grass and patted the spot beside him. She stripped off her UCLA sweatshirt and smoothed it out on the grass before reclining on top of it. The blades were sticky in her fingers. Similar to the effects of marijuana, she felt things more individually, like an isolated muscle at the gym.

A kaleidoscope of flowers sprouted all around her—daisies, roses, violets, and lilacs. The colors and shapes formed again and again. Circling her wrists, flower bracelets wrapped around them like silk. A flower crown landed on top of her head. She was a live-action garden goddess. Careful of the imaginary crown, she rotated to Art, keeping her fingers pressed against the top of her hair.

While she may have been a goddess, his beautifully tanned, smooth skin resembled more a god than she had ever known—the Greek mythology sort. Tall, with a strong jaw, and the perfect wavy hair flowing past his shoulders. Her eyes raked him top to bottom, then stuck to his shoes. The whirls of skulls spun and weaved into hearts, then stars. They left his shoes and floated to the sky. She lay flat on her back, and the sun vibrated, warming her skin.

Time blurred. She had no idea if she had been there for a minute or for an hour. A squirrel scurried down an oak tree and swiveled its head. The fur on its back stood. A nervousness bubbled in Amelia’s stomach. It’s just the drugs. But the critter, whose mouth opened to showcase its sharp teeth, felt real.

Another squirrel zipped down. Then another. Amelia popped back up on her sweatshirt. Angry squirrels were overrunning the park. She pulled her bare arms in a hug, feeling exposed and vulnerable. She wanted to shrink herself, assure the squirrels that she wasn't a threat.

Another came. And another.

Her throat constricted, and her heart beat wildly. If she didn't do something now, her heart would fly out of her chest, and she would die. They'd put her in a graveyard where the squirrels would be waiting and seeking revenge on her for being in their park and invading their home. She didn’t belong here.

“We need to go,” she croaked.

Art took his time, blissfully unaware that a mob of angry squirrels was getting ready to end his girlfriend’s life. He squinted at the sun, then stood.

Pivoting toward her, he extended his hand, large and comforting. She squeezed his hand tightly, distracted by his beauty.

Was he a god or a knight?

Was he everything that’s ever been good in the world made into one person? Would he protect her from an army of angry squirrels?

She snapped back to the dark world in front of her.

Amelia tugged on her sweatshirt, not slowing to dust the grass off. It was another layer of protection against the rabid critters coming for her.

Hand in hand, they made their way to the sidewalk. Every few feet, another person passed them. It was to be expected on a summer day in a beach town. In fact, it was one of Amelia’s favorite things, always an opportunity for her and Art to continue their people-watching game. But today, the people passed by rapidly. She couldn’t get a good look at one person before the next one came. It was dizzying. People were small, large, old, and young. They had piercings and slicked-back hair.

Paranoia flooded her chest and tightened her throat.

They were out to get her. The squirrels had sent them.

With her left hand, she flashed the peace sign and hurried. Surely, they knew that she wasn’t looking for trouble. She was peaceful.

But there were so many of them.

Panic engulfed her, forcing tears down her cheeks.