He carefully dropped my hand, and I shoved it in my pocket, clenching my tingling hand into a fist as we stared for a moment in silence.
Photos hadn’t done the domes justice. Paintings hadn’t either. Nothing did except being here. I exhaled slowly. “Okay, you win. This was worth it.”
“Told you.”
I turned to look at some of the dark shuttered windows nearby. An enclosed patio housed a hot tub, and someone had left two wineglasses on a nearby ledge. A few of the houses were lit up, but most were dark and silent. “What are these?” I asked.
“Cave houses. After my parents divorced, my mom’s original plan was to invest in a few of these and rent them out to tourists. But then she reconnected with your dad and they came up with the whole bookstore idea.” He pointed at the cave house closest to us. “Cave houses used to be where the poor people of Oia lived, and now it’s the opposite. Guess how much one costs today?”
I glanced at the one nearest us. It looked smaller than anywhere my mom and I had lived, with two small windows and a patio big enough for a chair and a tiny side table. “I have no idea.”
“Three million dollars.”
My mouth fell open. “Seriously?”
“Seriously,” he said. “People want the Oia experience. And it’s all about the tourists here. Your dad’s idea to open a bookstore for tourists was kind of brilliant. It was like the one thing Oia was missing. And bringing in the Atlantis angle made people even more excited about it.”
Theo was right, of course. The idea was brilliant. If it weren’t for his Atlantis hunting, my dad probably would have been a very successful businessman. I felt my mood drop slightly. “Do you like living in the bookstore?”
He shrugged. “I don’t not like it. And once my grandfather moved into our house, it was too crowded. I need some space. Plus, it’s nice to never run out of reading material.”
My phone dinged from Theo’s pocket, piercing the quiet. I thought I was going to have to fight him for it, but he handed it over without looking at the screen. It was a text from my mom. I’m not entirely clear why we got you the uber-expensive phone plan if you’re going to repeatedly ignore my calls. Are you safe? Are you eating your weight in feta? Julius wants me to ask if you’ve seen any Greek ninjas. How’s filming?
I laughed but was suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of homesickness. I missed my little ninja brother and my mom and James. The longest I’d ever been away from them was when I went to art camp, and that was only three days long.
“Dax?” Theo asked, his eyes on my face.
I shook my head, the heaviness settling over my chest again. “My mom. I think she’s been trying to call me today.”
He studied me for a moment. “I know I’ve already been stomping all over your boundaries today, but is it okay if I ask something personal?”
“Do you ever ask things that aren’t personal?” My laugh was way too high-pitched, and I gulped it back quickly.
His eyes widened teasingly, and he bumped his shoulder against mine. “I’m not a monster, Kalamata. You can say no and I’ll stop talking. Promise.”
“Promise?” His eyes took actual effort to look away from. People would pay for those eyelashes.
“Cross my heart.” He drew an exaggerated X over his chest.
I was tempted to shut his question down, but my curiosity wouldn’t let me. Theo clearly had more to say about my boyfriend situation, and I was at least a little interested in what that was. Also, and I wasn’t going to look too deeply into this, I was still feeling a little flustered from holding Theo’s hand, and I needed to put that behind me.
I squared up in front of him, and a breeze moved over us, ruffling our hair. “Fine. What is it?”
He bit his lower lip, then leaned in slightly. “Have you ever asked him why he left?”
My brain shuffled in confusion for a moment before landing on the answer. He wasn’t talking about Dax. He was talking about my dad. Again.
My cheeks flamed up and I moved backward, as far as I could, careful not to lose my footing. “Theo, I told you already. He left because he was looking for Atlantis.”
Theo moved with me, his eyes pleading. “But have you actually ever asked him? Have you ever asked his reasons? Because something doesn’t seem to add up. Your dad doesn’t seem the type to leave you.”
Nope. Not happening.
“Well, he did.” Why was Theo not getting this? “Look, I’m happy to be here hanging out with you and seeing the domes and everything. But I’m officially finished talking about this.” Why was Theo so adamant about defending my father? Even if we took Atlantis out of the picture, my dad had left my mom and me. Regardless of his reasons, his actions had been loud and clear.
He hesitated, raising his hand to meet mine. “But your dad doesn’t seem—”
I shook my head angrily. “Theo, I’m saying no. You promised.”
The word had a visceral effect on him. He froze, then dropped his hand. “Okay. Sorry.”
I waited incredulously through a few seconds of silence. “Okay?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “You’re right. I promised. If you don’t want to talk about it, then we won’t. But some people are worth second chances. Not all people. Just some people.”
“Theo—”
He held up his hands. “I’m done. I’m officially done. I won’t bring up your dad again.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“Thank you.” Despite his track record, I knew I could believe him. We wouldn’t be talking about my dad again. So where was the relief?
We stared at each other for a moment, our faces lit up by the domes. The sound of the ocean below was spa-like, but I couldn’t shake the sense that something was coming after me. One wrong step and this all would come crashing down. Also, was it possible that a part of me had liked having someone ask me all those tough questions?
The silence stretched out until I couldn’t take it anymore. I took a deep breath. “Let’s get out of here before any pirates show up.”
And before I start thinking about your eyelashes again. There was something about Theo that made it hard to look away.
Chapter Fourteen
#14. THUMBNAIL SKETCH OF AMMOUDI BAY
One day my dad and I were working on my homework at the library, and I asked if he had a picture of the place he’d grown up in. He said no, but he could draw it for me. He drew it quickly, then slid the paper over to me. It wasn’t a house or an apartment like I was expecting. It was the ocean, a rippled coastline leading to cliffs in the distance.
“But where did you live?” I asked.
“There,” he said, pointing to the drawing.
I didn’t get it. But before I could ask again, he stood and asked if I wanted to go out for a rainbow sprinkle ice cream cone, and the laws of childhood proclaim that nothing shall trump ice cream, especially not if rainbow sprinkles are involved.
I was surprised when I found the drawing on the top shelf of his closet. I’d assumed he’d tossed it out as carelessly as he’d drawn it. Instead, he’d filled it in, shading the water and defining buildings on the cliffs. It was beautiful, but it didn’t look like a home.