by Amy Sparling
The houses are a little bit higher than the lake, which was probably designed that way so that water can drain into the lake. They aren’t flooded right now, but you can tell they did flood. All of my old neighbors are home, cleaning out trash and toting out rolled up carpets.
Ironically, the thin metal For Sale sign still stands at the front of my old lawn. The water and storm didn’t tear it away, despite knocking down tree branches and throwing cars around.
Funny how life works.
Ethan’s front door is wide open. I let Ethan and Dakota go inside first, and I hang back a few seconds. The Poe’s immaculate house has been ruined, at least downstairs.
That musty smell in my living room is multiplied ten fold in here. The walls have water stains that go up at least three feet, maybe higher. Tears spring to my eyes as I survey the damage.
All of the Poe’s belongings are now just trash.
The couches, the flat screen TV Mrs. Poe surprised Mr. Poe with last Christmas. The DVD player and the Xbox. Furniture and knick-knacks. Everything that’s below waist height is ruined and will have to be thrown out.
Unlike my house, the water didn’t just creep in a little bit here. The whole downstairs got it. The Poe’s bedroom is trashed, as well as their clothing and bedding and everything except a few paintings on the wall that are high enough to have escaped the water.
We find Ethan’s parents in the kitchen. Mrs. Poe has clearly been crying and Mr. Poe has so many worried creases in his forehead that I almost don’t recognize him.
The kitchen’s white cabinets are now a muddy brown, stained from the gross flood water. The countertops are still wet, which means the water got pretty high in here.
“I’m so sorry,” I tell Mrs. Poe.
At first she doesn’t seem to hear me. But then she looks up and meets my gaze with a teary one of her own. “These things just happen, I guess.”
“We just took out the carpet in Ella’s house,” Ethan says. “Let’s get started here.”
“There’s way more work to be done than just carpet removal,” Mr. Poe says, putting a hand on his son’s shoulder. “We have to get all the furniture out. Then the floors, then the drywall. They say you have to tear out the drywall twelve inches higher than the flooding just to make sure you don’t get mold. This will take forever.”
“It won’t take forever,” Ethan says. He glances at me and I give him a little smile. “It’ll take some work, but it’ll be fine. We’ve got this.”
“My parents will help,” I say, trying to sound optimistic. “And give me a sledgehammer and I’ll be happy to knock out the walls.”
This earns me a grin from Mrs. Poe. “That actually sounds fun,” she says. “I want a sledgehammer, too.”
“Me three,” Dakota says.
Mr. Poe laughs. “I guess it could be worse.”
“Yeah,” I say. “It definitely, definitely could be worse.”
###
Later, when all the furniture is piled in a heap on the Poe’s lawn, Ethan and I sit on the tailgate of his truck, sharing a pizza from the only pizza place in town that didn’t get flooded. We stare out at the setting sun and watch it glisten on the overfilled lake in front of us.
To the left and right, most of the neighbors have already begun cleaning out their houses, too. The Poes said the trash people won’t pick up the mess until after insurance adjusters come by and assess the damage. It could take weeks. But the Poes have something many people don’t have, and that’s a two story house. They’ll be living up there while the demo and remodeling work gets done. Mrs. Poe has already taken in an elderly neighbor whose one story house was flooded. She’ll be living in Ethan’s old bedroom while the Poes sleep in the rec room.
I smile because that’s just like the Poes, taking in people who need shelter.
In a couple of days, I’ll be taking all of my purple stuff to my new dorm room. Ethan will finish packing up his stuff to move into his new apartment. Something tells me I won’t be spending much time in my dorm now that Ethan will be a short walk away.
We’ve promised to come home on the weekends and help with the renovation. I was serious about knocking out walls. That sounds fun, and like one hell of a work out.
I reach for another slice of pizza and take a bite. It’s a little cold now, but any type of pizza is still good pizza.
Ethan leans back on his hands and stares out over the lake. “I am so ready to be in Dallas with you. There’s no hurricanes in Dallas.”
I laugh. “That doesn’t mean there’s not tornados. Or fires. Or broken water pipes. Or sink holes.”
His eyes go wide. “Are there sink holes in Dallas?”
I shrug. “I’ve never heard of one, but that doesn’t mean anything. Mother Nature works in mysterious and really shitty ways.”
He laughs and then leans over the pizza box for a kiss. My lips are greasy and probably taste like pepperoni, but I kiss him anyway. “It doesn’t matter where we live,” Ethan says. Those gorgeous eyes I’ve fallen in love with peer back into mine. “We’ve got each other. And no storm can tear that apart.”
***
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Also Available by Amy Sparling
One text can change everything.
The Text Dare is the first novella in Amy Sparling’s new First Love Shorts series. These quick, romantic teen reads are perfect for anyone who loves a good story about finding your first love.
Sixteen-year-old Jess Parker is stuck babysitting her little brother all weekend, which is why she accepts her best friend’s dare: to text the random phone number they found written on a lost piece of algebra homework. When the owner of the number texts back, Jess and Max hit it off through their anonymous conversation. The last thing Jess expected was to spend her boring weekend texting the guy of her dreams, and now that she’s crushing hardcore on a guy she’s never met, she hopes he’s actually the guy he claims to be.
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About the Author
Amy Sparling is the author of The Summer Unplugged Series, The Immortal Mark Series, Deadbeat & other awesome books for teens and the teens at heart. She lives in Houston, Texas with her family and a super spoiled rotten puppy.
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