Iceland; a place that Adelaide Reeves (21 yrs) has a love/hate relationship with. A place that feels small to her, trapped in the nest of her own decisions to live life without the worries of anyone.
A place where everyone knows everyone. But Adela...
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"So since your place seems pretty far, you must have ridden your bike super fast to the beach. Are you sure you weren't stalking me the other day?" Everything in Vik was close by, his house too. I joked with Wells, who struggled to find the keys to his front door. Even though, most of the time Wells seemed to be put together by the way he spoke, also with his instant bursts of confidence- usually, he seemed a mess. This was one of the times he looked out of place when he wasn't.
"I just took you to this amazing spot for your mom and these remarks is how you repay me?" He stopped in the midst of trying each of the three keys until he stumbled upon the right one. His eyes squinted, as he stuck his tongue out at the side, slightly. He nudged the last key into the lock when an accomplished smile spreads across his face, right when he opened the door wide.
His place was tiny. Not that our home was any bigger. Though, it made sense for a rental. His place was a mess as well. If any of my parents had seen the sight of the junk clattered around, they'd freak out until I got rid of the unwanted or picked it all up, neat and tidy.
He had the most randomest items displayed on the floor, by the window and basically everywhere.
"Didn't know I was going to have a guest over or else I would've cleaned up a bit, " Wells said as he started picking up his sweaters and placing them onto a three legged chair. The wooden chair seemed to hold a greater meaning if he thought the crooked chair was worth keeping; no use. Or he could just be a hoarder.
"You have so many random things. What's with the chair?" I asked getting a closer look at this unique piece, laid around like a masterpiece at a museum. Wells hesitated for a second, scratching the back of his head in thought, whether it was something worth sharing or keeping to himself. I wouldn't blame him. I kept almost everything to myself.
"Its a funny story- I stole it, " he shrugged, biting his lip as he waited for my reaction. To be honest, I wasn't surprised. If there was someone who has the guts to do something outrageously ballsy, it would be Wells. Yet, my eyes became bigger than usual, opened up wide in a bit of a shock, similar to the first encounter we had in Arna's closet.
"The guy was an asshole, so I had to, " He shrugged again, then tried to distract me with the boxes we had to deliver to Eva. He held them up with a forced smile, in hopes I'd forget what he spilled out to me.
"Thats a great excuse, " my sarcasm always the best comeback. Wells let out a deep sigh. He put some of the few small boxes into a bigger bin, easier for us to carry out to his van.
