The Flynn Effect

epilogue

Jo

eight months later

"'IT WAS JUST another good day. A perfect day. A happy-for-now, so vast and deep that I knew or rather believed, I didn't have to worry about tomorrow.'" I close Emily Henry's Beach Read with a satisfying thump and place it on Flynn's bare chest.

I tuck my hair behind my ear and gauge his reaction. He usually loves it when I read to him plus he gets me all the novels I need so why not? "So? What did you think?"

He lowers his sketchbook and pencil a little and looks at me. "I liked it."

"Of course you did. It's a great book."

"Mhm." And then he lifts his sketchbook to his eyes again and continues to draw.

I don't get tired at staring at him sometimes. Like now, he'd wanted to draw me while I finish reading Beach Read to him and we should have done that a few hours ago but we'd been busy at his swimming pool. He's been swimming again but he takes it slowly and most times, I'm there with him just to be of moral support or to time how fast he can swim one, two or three laps without having any form of meltdown.

It's the last day of summer and it's the last full day for a while that I'm going to spend with him since I'm going to college tomorrow and he's taking a gap year. His hair has added more volume and it's a lighter brown especially at the tips due to the long hours we all spend under the sun at the beach. The curls fall across his forehead, almost covering his eyebrows and some curl around his ears. His skin is tanned, just like mine and there's a light stubble growing on his chin that he hasn't bothered to shave off since the last one.

His muscles are more toned than before, his abs which I'm currently tracing are harder and his lips are still a little swollen from kissing him as per his request each time I read a curse word. He's gotten a few more tattoos on his rib cage and arms. A snake, a spider, a couple of writings including Ellie's name. And then at the back of his right middle finger, he's gotten a tattoo of the first letter of my name and as he traces circles on my thigh and inches towards the edge of my underwear and back, you'd realize it's for obvious reasons.

It's going to be a while before I can be like this again. Straddling his waist in nothing but his black Tee and my lime green bikini panties while I can spot all the tiny details of his face like the dust of tiny freckles on his nose or the greens of his eyes that sometimes look like they're hiding a bluish swirl.

He turns the sketchbook to me and when I take it from him, he pulls me closer and leaves his hand on one of my thighs while the other folds behind his head.

I look exactly the way I look right now. An oversized T-shirt donning my body while I'm holding a book to my face with one hand and the other tucks my hair behind my ear.

It's beautiful. You're talented. Instead, I lower the sketchbook to the bed and sigh. "I'm going to miss you." I've been missing him ever since I got Stanford's acceptance letter in my hands.

His lips spread into a grin and his dimples sink into his cheeks. I'm going to miss that too. "I'll miss you too."

"Remember what I said. You have to call and FaceTime me everyday and text me—"

"Every time I think of you," he finishes for me. "Which is all the time. You're sure I won't text you when a professor's in front of you?"