Easy A+

Chapter 72

Dream a little dream of me
Make me into something sweet
Turn the radio on, dancing to a pop song
Fuck it, I love you

– Lana Del Rey, Fuck it I love you

. . . .

"Ready to go?"

Harry's loading the last of the luggage into the trunk of the car, the warm glow of the sun gleaming against his damp curls from his morning shower. I've been sitting on the step in front of the house for the last fifteen minutes while he arranges then rearranges the suitcases in the back of the car to make them fit perfectly. Lilly's already strapped into her car seat, watching a movie on Harry's phone.

We're leaving for Devon today for–finally–a week of relaxation. Although he's hiding it, I can easily tell that he's beyond prepared for this. He deserves it after everything he goes through–we both do.

He doesn't show it, but I know that what happened with my dad a few weeks ago hurt him. We haven't talked about it much; we just push it to the back of our minds as much as possible.

"Yeah."

"Come here."

He slams the trunk lid shut, leans against it, then extends his arms out to me. His cheek is pressed against the crown of my head, his hands around my back, one on my lower backside.

"This is our first vacation together," I point out matter-of-factly.

He pulls away, a smile on his lips, dimples imprinting into his flawless skin. The early summer wind picks up, wisping his short, brown locks every which way.

"Come on. We have to get going," he says and scratches at a dried spot of dirt on the surface of the shiny black car. "We don't want to keep everyone else waiting, do we?"

The drive to Devon feels unbearably long for only a five to six-hour drive–not counting Harry and Lilly's countless bathroom breaks and the one time we stopped for food. I had fallen asleep twice, although he had complained both times saying he's bored and needs someone to talk to. Of course, I woke up when we were getting food and when he shook my thigh to tell me that we were about ten minutes from Devon.

Once we get to the gorgeous, picturesque landscaping all I can see are the rolling hills leading to nothing but sandy beaches and a wide expanse of nothing but crystal blue water. Hundreds of tiny dots scatter the sand, the people running towards the water, kids playing in the sand and the waves rolling and falling in a continuous fashion– never-ceasing once to still the waters. It's an image straight from a movie.

To top it off, we drive onto a deserted street–no cars, no people, nothing. Only a long road with greenery all around and a cute beach house at the end of it. The driveway's short, only a small square of concrete with a white wood walkway leading to a light blue beach house with sand dunes lining either side of the pathway.

"Jesus Christ, Harry."

He stops midway of opening his door when he looks back, a dumb look on his face. "What?"

I shut the door, the fresh sea breeze blowing my hair every which way and the smell of the salty ocean stinging my eyes. I help Harry with the bags while Lilly takes her little pink suitcase and her backpack up the path to the porch. She walks up to the house like she's spent her entire life here. We follow behind her and up the front steps. Right as Harry's hand goes for the doorknob, the door swings open, and Anne, in a one-piece bathing suit and a white coverup, grins widely at the three of us.

"Hi, guys! We just got started making lunch.  Come in."

She steps aside, unveiling the surprisingly massive open floorplan interior of the house. Laminate hardwood flooring expands across the whole room, brown, faux leather couches, a white fireplace, and many more items taking up space in the vast first level of the house.