Lovestruck Summer by Melissa Walker (the best motivational books TXT) 📗

if he owns the place. He points out a fl ag in the lobby that was fl own in 1835 in the town of Gonzales, Texas, as a warning to the Mexican forces who had instructions to confi scate the cannon, according to the plaque. It has a cannon on it, and it reads, COME AND TAKE IT. “Yikes,”I say. “Baddest-ass fl ag ever,”says Russ. Then he keeps walking through the hotel doors and we head down a sloping lawn to an area with a few chairs that face the water. “This is Town Lake,”says Russ. “And that’s the Congress Avenue Bridge.”He points to our right. Then he starts to say the weirdest things. “So, there are probably a million bats under that bridge right now,”says Russ. “You mean like fl ying minions of Dracula?”I ask. “That kind of bat?”“I wouldn’t bring vampires into this,”says

119 Russ. “But yes, that kind of bat.”“I’m intrigued,”I admit. “Go on.”“Well, at sunset, they all come out to look for food,”he says. “They stream over the water and fi ll the sky with black wings. It’s incredible! It’s like this giant cloud of creatures hovering over you.”Russ’s eyes are lit up like he’s telling me we’re about to win the lottery. His smile is wide open and his enthusiasm is infectious. “That sounds amazing,”I say, sitting down in a chair next to him. “This is happening tonight?”“Summer sunsets,”he says. “That’s when they’re here. The bats are up from Mexico.”“Ooh, murciélagos,”I say. For some reason the Spanish word for bat is one of the only things that has stuck in my head since eighth grade Spanish II. “Sí, dork,”says Russ. “And the umbrella?”I ask, ignoring his jab. “Well, it’s not for rain,”he says. “The sky is about to fi ll with mammals, Priscilla! You do the math.”“Ewww!”I wail, tucking my feet underneath

120 me in my wide wooden chair. A waiter comes by to get us drinks from the bar, and Russ orders a root beer. It sounds so good, I get one too. When they come, they’re extra cold and frothy. “Good choice,”I say. “Cheers,”says Russ, clinking his mug with mine. An older couple wanders down the lawn and joins us, sitting on the bench to our left. They’re holding hands, I notice, which I always think is really annoying among people my age, but somehow sweet between couples like my par- ents’age and older. Maybe that’s because my parents never hold hands. They love each other and all, but they just don’t show it that way. This couple, though, is more like my grandpar- ents’age. “You two waiting for the bats?”asks the husband. “Yes, sir,”says Russ. “It’ll be the fi rst time for Priscilla here.”“We watched last night, but they didn’t show,”says the wife, looking at me.

121 I glance over at Russ. “It’s not a sure thing,”he says. “But I thought it’d be fun to try.”“I guess bats are fi ckle,”I say, looking back at the old couple. “The concierge at the hotel says the bats are still pregnant and might not be ready to come out and feed yet,”says the husband. The way he says “feed”sounds a little gross to me, but I’m curious to see this bat phenom- enon. We sit silently for a few more minutes, and Russ and I sip our root beers. Even without the bats fl ying, this time around day’s end is stunning. There is a brief golden moment that seems like it comes straight out of a cinematographer’s fi lmic dream—the sparkling glow on the water, the bright green of the grass under the rose-hued sky. And Russ’s hair with a shimmer of sundown in it. It’s like a song. “Are you disappointed?”he asks me, when the sun sets and we’re left in the blue glow of twilight, sans fl ying rodents. “No,”I say. “It was lovely.”

122 Chapter 12 On Friday night, I have plans to meet Jade and Sebastian at Dirty’s. I go to Jade’s house first to pick her up—she doesn’t live too far from the Drag, which is this main strip near campus, and it’s definitely my turn to drive. When she gets in the Festiva, Jade instantly comments on the music. I realize I’ve been play- ing Russ’s dusty-ass tape for days. I’m kind of into it. “Old-school!”she says, when some insanely ancient Green Day song comes on. “I think this is Russ’s older brother’s high school mix tape or something,”I say. “The family can’t be all bad if he was into Billy Joe back in the day,”says Jade. By the time we get to Dirty’s, Sebastian

123 is already spinning, and Jade and I grab two sodas and settle into our regular booth. “I tried to see the bats this week,”I say. “It’s early,”she says. “They’re probably still pregnant.”Funny how the bats are this normal thing to talk about in Austin. It’s like I just said, “Oh, I went to the supermarket today.”But I’m talking about fl ying mice here. “Yeah, Russ took me down to the lawn by the Four Seasons and we were just—”I start. “Wait,”interrupts Jade. “You went on a date with your fratty neighbor? And you have his mix tape playing in your car . . . ?”“It was not a date,”I say fi rmly. “More like I was looking for something to do. That’s all.”“You must have been really bored,”says Jade, taking a sip of her drink and looking back toward Sebastian. “Russ isn’t that bad,”I say. “He’s not?”she asks. “You’re always acting like he’s the biggest a-hole on the planet with the way he won’t call you ‘Quinn’and how he

124 hangs around all the time.”“Yeah,”I say. “That’s true. He does irritate me.”“Good thing you have Sebastian to focus on,”says Jade, smiling. I look over and see his fast hands replac- ing the Fretless Coma album that just played. Sebastian really is hot. I hear the bells over the door jingle. “Hey, there’s Rick,”I say to Jade, whose back is to the entrance. She doesn’t turn around. “Rick!”I