Rebel at Spruce High

“Oh, she’ll be just fine. Spruce is in good hands, especially now with Mrs. Strong in charge.”

Vann smirks, his eyes averting for a moment. “That’s true.”

It was the biggest shocker Spruce has ever known, the day of the election when Nadine Strong won by a landslide. Vann’s mom, of all people, played a unique role in that outcome, too. According to Vann, she talked Cissy McPherson into running against Nadine, with a plan to subvert her campaign and make Raymond look good. But after reconsidering the scheme—and perhaps looking inward at her own character—Vann’s mother changed her tune and, instead of encouraging them to run against each other, she pushed them to run together. The McPhersons joined forces with the Strongs as their marketing power, and together they united all of Spruce’s best interests and won the town over.

I’m sure now that Mrs. Strong wears the proverbial crown, she’s freaking out about how to exercise her power. Despite the expected growing pains, I’m certain she’ll find her rhythm.

“We don’t have to move here right now,” I point out. “We can come back and forth for a while, just to test this little town out. Stay here a few nights. Or a week. Or … longer.”

Vann closes his eyes. “Mmm, those waves …”

“I honestly don’t know what our future holds. Whether or not we choose to actually chase this crazy beach-town dream and join a whole new laidback community of artists, gay couples, townies, fishermen, local college boys, tourists …”

“I can hear those sweet, sweet waves …”

“I feel like this place is giving each of us a little slice of our childhood back, a part that was missing—and now found.”

“Just like home …”

“But no matter which path we take next with our futures, I know who I’m takin’ it with.”

Vann opens his eyes and turns his face to mine. “Oh, you’d better bet I’ll be with you no matter what,” he vows to me. “You’re my home no matter where we are, Toby.”

It’s just like Jimmy said: When you make a friend, you stick with that friend until the end. Friends are your home away from home, no matter where you are. “And you’re mine,” I tell Vann right back.

Our lips come together for a kiss. And as distant waves crash and gulls sing overhead, it only now occurs to me that we’ve found ourselves in a picture I’ve painted a dozen times already: a seaside fantasy in a charming house by the sand, surrounded by a loving, artistic community, inspiration in every tree, stone, and grain of sand—and with the boy of my dreams at my side. Indeed, like the name of that awful play that literally brought our lips and souls together, I’ll always remember seaside, when Kingsley pulled a shy yet determined Danny out of the dark and taught him how to love: as carefree as a rebel, brave, bold, and without limit—one daring stroke of the brush at a time.

The End.