The Meeting Point by Olivia Lara

Eighty-Six

I text Alisa the moment I finish reading.

Not precisely that very moment. First, I thought I misread. So I read that part again. About the fire and him being across from me. Us looking into each other’s eyes. I told him I remembered him from the fire, but he pretended like he didn’t know what I was talking about. I just imagined it was a coincidence. After all, he lives here, and he said he goes to these bonfires every couple of weeks in the summer. When I read his early copy, there was no mention of him being by the fire, so of course I put that out of mind. I kept reading and rereading. It was him across the fire. That moment we had was real. I felt it then just like I’ve felt it every single second ever since we both returned here, to Carmel.

Then I got to the part about me sleeping in the sand and him kissing me on my hair, just like he just did now. Him putting his hoodie on me, to keep me warm. And then to the last part. The message he wrote me; the message I never got. I jumped out of my chair, grabbed my luggage. I knew it was still there. It had to be. I never washed it; I never even touched it in the last year. But I kept it…

Alisa, I FINALLY KNOW WHO MAX IS!