Can't Get There from Here (18 page)

A big wave crashed and the suds raced up the beach and around my ankles. I felt the icy chill and my feet sank deeper in the wet sand. My teeth were chattering, but I didn’t want to leave. I knew I was feeling something I never felt before. Anthony and that detective were right. There were probably a lot of different ways to live. And probably a lot of different places, too. Maybe it wouldn’t be a pretty trailer with green trim like Grammy Emma’s, or an apartment with yellow curtains like Anthony’s, but it didn’t have to be the street, either. Maybe OG was wrong. Maybe, if you tried, you could get somewhere.

“Jesse?”

I turned around. Anthony was standing on the beach with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “Come on,” he said. “Before you get sick.”

“Okay.” I turned back up the beach. My feet felt numb and I couldn’t stop shivering. But the funny thing was, I had a feeling I wouldn’t get sick. I might even get better.