Discovery Bay

Chapter Two

Sunlight crept through Envi’s curtains, catching in the streaks of pencil shavings and stray brush bristles scattered across her desk. She blinked awake to the smell of frying bacon. Her father always cooked on weekends, though the menu was rarely more than eggs, toast, and something crisp in the pan. She tugged on an oversized hoodie and padded barefoot into the kitchen.

Corbin was at the stove, spatula in hand, humming tunelessly under his breath. But his shoulder was angled toward the phone pressed to his ear. His voice was low, the clipped, careful way he spoke when it wasn’t for her. Envi slid onto one of the kitchen stools and pretended to be more interested in the bowl of apples than in listening.

“Five days?” she heard him repeat. “Yeah, I can manage that. She’ll stay with Justin. He owes me, anyway.”

Envi perked up at her name. Corbin turned, spotted her, and mouthed a guilty good morning. He finished the call quickly and set the phone down, focusing on plating breakfast as if nothing unusual had been said.

“You’re working again,” she said softly. It wasn’t really a question.

Corbin sighed, pushing a plate toward her. “Just for a few days. I’ll be back before you can miss me. And you’ll be with Justin. You like Justin.”

She did like him—her dad’s oldest friend, the man who felt more like an uncle than anything. But she hated the way these absences came up, sudden and quiet. Still, she nodded, took her eggs, and let him change the subject.

---

That afternoon, Discovery Bay was gray and soft with drizzle when Justin loaded her into his old Jeep and drove them toward the Kingston ferry. The windows fogged from the heater, but Envi cracked hers just enough to feel the damp breeze on her cheek. She loved the smell of salt and pine tangled together.

The ferry terminal was alive with the kind of chaos she always found thrilling: cars lined up in neat lanes waiting to board, families lugging overnight bags, the distant blare of the horn announcing another boat’s arrival. Justin bought two tickets, nudged her toward the passenger walkway, and reminded her to “stick close.”

That was when she saw him again.

Landon.

He was taller than she remembered from the fair, though only weeks had passed. He stood with a boy who looked older—broad-shouldered, sharp-eyed—but Landon’s grin was the same crooked flash she had carried in her head since the Ferris wheel.

“Envi,” he said, like he hadn’t quite believed she was real outside that night.

Her stomach flipped. “Hi.”

Justin glanced between them but said nothing. Instead, he shook hands with the older boy—Jeremy, introduced as Landon’s brother—and the four of them boarded together.

On the open-air deck, the wind whipped Envi’s hair across her face, the salt spray cool and clean. Landon leaned on the railing beside her, shoulders hunched against the gusts.

“You like this?” he asked, nodding toward the choppy water.

She grinned. “I love it. My dad says I was probably born loving the rain.”

For a moment they were quiet, watching the gulls chase the ferry’s wake. Landon’s sleeve brushed hers, just slightly, and he didn’t move away.

---

Seattle was loud, dazzling, and overwhelming. Envi soaked in every bit of it: the arcade where Landon showed off his impossible skill at skee-ball, the way Justin and Jeremy trailed behind like quiet shadows while the two of them darted from game to game, arms full of prize tickets. They cashed in for plastic rings and neon candy, laughing at how little all their winnings amounted to.

Afterward, they ducked into a sticky-floored movie theater for a matinee. The room was nearly empty, just the smell of popcorn and the flicker of the screen. Landon leaned close to whisper something snarky about the previews, and Envi laughed too loudly, earning a shush from the row behind them. She sank lower into her seat, cheeks burning, but Landon only grinned wider.

By the time the movie ended, the sun was slipping west. Justin suggested pizza, so they drove back to his house and carried greasy boxes into the rec room. Jeremy found the remote, and soon the glow of another film filled the basement while the four of them sprawled on couches.

This time, though, the energy was different. Quieter. Envi sat cross-legged on the carpet, her back against the couch. Landon slid down beside her, stretching his long legs out until his socked foot bumped hers. Neither moved.

As the movie played, their laughter softened into silence. Envi found herself leaning, just slightly, until her shoulder brushed his. He didn’t shift away. She felt the warmth of him like a secret.

---

Later, when Justin told her it was time to get ready for bed, she walked Landon to the door. Jeremy was already waiting outside, keys jangling, his expression unreadable. Landon shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels.

“So,” he said. “Guess I’ll see you again?”

Envi’s heart thudded. “I hope so.”

They didn’t hug. Didn’t touch. But the way he smiled at her, lopsided and certain, was enough.

When she lay awake that night, listening to the rain against Justin’s roof, she knew she’d carry that smile with her until the next time.