s i x
Kids used to come back from summer vacation talking about Avalon Pier. It was a weekend getaway sort of place, the kind with a ferris wheel for visitors and other quaint shops. Decades ago, it was a main tourist attraction. Nowadays, well. Ky hadn't heard the name in a while. But she was sure she'd been there at least once, long ago.
On Tuesday morning, Ky sat on the steps to wait for Stiles. He'd called her the night before to ask if she was still up for the trip to Avalon. They'd stayed up late talking for a while after about nothing in particular. Old memories of other trips as kids. The meaning of adventure. It was nice to have a voice nearby while she drew at her desk.
Now, she played with the keychain on her messenger bag. Yawned sleepily. Checked the contents: pencil case, sketchbook, water, film camera, wallet, mid-sized towel for the beach.
Ky looked up when she realized Stiles was leaving the house. He waved at her and she waved back. She crossed the street to meet him.
"Good morning," she greeted with a yawn, tired even though it was early afternoon.
"Morning," he returned, grinning. "Ready?"
"Yep. Why're you so excited? Isn't it a long drive?"
He shrugged. "Haven't been to the beach in a while. Can't wait to see the water."
The drive to the pier was quiet, with radio music to fill the spaces in between. They got to talking about music- Stiles liked rock and roll, Ky liked folk. They both loved the idea of mixtapes but had missed that era, and agreed that Spotify playlists just weren't the same.
The sound of seagulls' cries and scent of saltwater in the air woke Ky up; she must have dozed off. She glanced at Stiles who was concentrated on driving, and then outside at the street. It was as quaint as imagined; cobblestone roads and small colourful shops dotted the main street, and a boardwalk by the beach was nearby. They could already see the water from here.
"Oh, you're awake. I was just gonna honk the horn."
"Ha, ha. I'm tired from yesterday. Aren't you?"
"Nah, I'm used to it- Man, this place hasn't changed a bit." The subject change was swift, and Ky thought she could detect some uneasiness at first. Still, the comfort in distraction was a relief for them both. She realized that while she could guess at his emotions, it was harder to tell how he- or anyone around, for the matter- was feeling.
Another relief.
After parking along the curb, Stiles led the way to the old bike shop. It was interesting and had a lot of models for enthusiasts, but nothing suitable for daily riding. This was disappointing. Ky wondered if it was a sign to let it go and just buy a new one. The image of her dad with a fallen expression at the news was discouraging, but there was nothing more to be done.
Afterward, they walked along the quiet main street to the bookstore on the other end. Elderly people milled about, as well as kids and their parents while doing grocery runs and other errands. It was all very peaceful and serene. Ky took a breath of the fresh sea air, which felt crisp in her lungs. The afternoon sunshine was warm on her skin, tank top rippling a bit in the breeze. It rippled through Stiles's white t-shirt, too.
"We used to get ice cream there," he said, pointing out the shop as they passed by. Ky stopped to read the sundae-shaped sign above the turquoise-painted door.
"'Avalon's Scoop and Desserts.'" She looked back at Stiles decidedly. "We should get some."
"Now? I was thinking it'd be good for the beach."
"True… how far is the walk again?"
"Like, half an hour." He glanced ahead. "It is a bit out of the way."
"Perfect time to enjoy a snack."
It was a stare down; Ky's hopeful expression against Stiles's undecided one. She never noticed how light the brown of his eyes were; she could see his pupils as the sun reflected off the irises. She raised her eyebrows challengingly.
He rolled his eyes. "Okay, fine," he said, admitting defeat with a reluctant smile. Ky grinned, and slipped by to turn the knob and open the wooden door for him with a flourish. It creaked and a bell jingled overhead.
"After you, good sir."
"Isn't it ladies first?" But he went in anyway, amused.
Inside, the atmosphere was cool and candy-land-by-the-sea themed. Very sweet. Ky lit up at the sight of the freezers by the counter and rushed to check out the flavors while Stiles looked around, nostalgic. They discussed the best flavors (rocky-road was his, strawberry cheesecake was hers) and found themselves satisfied with matching rationale (the bits within the ice cream made the entire thing a better experience) before a friendly middle-aged worker came out from the back to greet them. The two each ordered and paid for a scoop of their favorite and were on their way.
"Oh, my god," Ky said, although it was muffled since she'd just had the first taste.
"Good, right?"
"So good." She resisted the urge to add, 'Well, now we have to come back.' It was too far and too much, after all.
The conversation was nostalgic, with Stiles pointing out the places his family would regularly go to when they visited (a different bookstore for crime thrillers before his dad stopped having a taste for it and the pawn shop across the street since his mom loved antiques, in addition to the ice cream shop), which places had closed down and were once something else (an old-school arcade that was now a quaint tourist-trap-esque cafe, a pizza place that was- "oh, I guess it's just under new management," Stiles amended), and what was new and refreshingly unfamiliar (a parkette with a playground, complete with a statue of a turtle).
They got lost trying to find it and didn't realize they'd gone too far until they did, but eventually arrived. The bookstore was old and two-storeyed, stuffed to the brim with second hand copies and shelves. It encouraged single-file browsing and smelled of dust, old pages, and a hint of lavender. A worker their age was listening to music through headphones while restocking newer copies in the front. The old man at the counter gave them a smile and said to let him know if they needed anything, before going back to stickering a stack of books. He must be the owner, since he matched the fond description Stiles had given earlier. A white cat lurked between the shelves.
Ky loved the place. She nodded towards the back shelves, already eyeing the stairs. "I'm gonna look around for a bit."
"Yea, sure. I'll find you if you don't reappear in time."
She nodded. "Just a quick look," she said, doubting her own words already.
"Yea, right. You've got a look in your eye that says otherwise," he said jokingly, before turning around and heading back to the counter.
"Hello, sir. Sorry, um, actually I called earlier about whether you had…" Ky heard Stiles ask about the textbook before he was out of earshot. She walked ahead, browsing slowly, passing by old names. Alcott, Austen, Homer. Shakespeare. It got dustier the further back she ventured. The cat was found jumping off a shelf in the very back, before disappearing. "Hey," she called quietly, looking around to no avail. She gave up and went upstairs.
There was a front window for natural light to spill through, and lamps in all four corners likely for when it was dark. A door near the back that said 'For Employees Only.' A carpet-table-sofa combo sat in the center to read in, as if it was someone's living room. Cozy, complete with a set of toys for kids. No one else was around.
It was soon clear that this floor was the kid's section; picture and elementary-level books were on display shelves by the window, with thicker novels in the back. Sorted by age and genre. She went to sit on the low shelf by the window, hoping it was allowed- er, or not inherently not allowed. She snapped a picture of the bookstore on her old film camera, before looking out the window. The store was on a corner of the main street, so the cobblestone road and water were less visible than the residential street directly in front. A tree branch waved and tapped on the glass in the top left window pane. She took out her sketchbook for a quick drawing.
The white cat appeared once again at her feet. She smiled.
"What's your name? Like, Snowy or something?" she asked, speaking to no one in particular.
"Actually, it's Harriet. After Tubman." Stiles grinned, at the top of the staircase. "Damn, I was gonna scare you."
"Awe, Harriet." Ky scratched behind her ears and she purred in return. "Also, I'd like to see you try. I don't scare easily."
He grinned. "That… checks out, actually."
Ky smiled in answer, hurrying to finish the tree branch. "Did they have the book?"
"Yea. He didn't know about it since his grandkid handles the emails and calls so it was confusing, but-" He brandished the shiny hardcover. "Behold."
"Nice." She showed her drawing in return. "What do you think?"
He looked at it, then outside. "Accurate. I like it."
"Thanks." She looked around. "Was it like this when you used to come here?"
"Well, the sofa was green before, but other than that, yea. The cat was smaller." He knelt down to pet her, then looked at the books on the shelf Ky was sitting on. "My mom got my picture books from here," he continued wistfully. "Liked supporting local. I think she would've liked you and the whole eco-friendly vibe."
"Hey, that is not my entirety." She thought back to that night drinking slushies and grimaced a bit. "Although I see why you'd think that, which is both understandable and embarrassing to recall now."
"Ha. I'm kidding, don't worry. Should we get outta here?"
Ky nodded and put her stuff away. They said goodbye to Harriet, thanked the owner and his grandkid, and left the store.
On the way back, they decided to grab takeout from a local diner and have an impromptu meal on the beach, after realizing that it was later than they thought it'd be and they were hungry. The classics: burgers, fries, strawberry and vanilla milkshakes.