Sand Jewels (The Wishes Series) by GJ Walker-Smith Read Free Book Online Page B

hour of uphill hiking through a national park, I might have reconsidered agreeing to go.
    “How much further?” I panted, trudging along behind him.
    I really had no right to complain. Alex was the one carrying my bag of art supplies. All I had to carry was myself.
    I’d decided against taking paint. My setup wasn’t exactly mobile. If by chance we ended up somewhere inspirational, I’d draw it and paint it later.
    “Be quiet and keep walking.” Alex stopped walking for the hundredth time to let me catch up. “You wouldn’t be so out of breath if you weren’t using it all to complain.”
    “This place had better be magnificent, Alex,” I grumbled.
    He grinned back at me. “The harder the access, the sweeter the find, Gabs.”
    The access was definitely hard. I’d lost my bearings half an hour earlier when the bush became too thick to see through. I took heart in the fact that we still seemed to be walking along a fairly well worn trail and Alex didn’t look scared or lost.
    When we finally broke through to a clearing, I realised he was right. The find was sweet. From where we stood, we could see the whole town, and the ocean beyond it. I’d looked up at the massive hill behind the town many times. I’d even painted it – but I never imagined climbing it. Until today, I didn’t even think it was possible. Even from a distance, the bush looked impenetrable. And we’d just conquered it.
    “What do you think?” Alex asked, dumping my bag on the ground.
    I kept my focus ahead. “I think I want to beat my chest and let out a triumphant cry.”
    He huffed out a quick laugh. “Settle down, Tarzan,” he teased. “Paint me a picture instead.”
    I crouched down, unzipped my bag and took out the two sketchpads I’d packed. “We’re drawing today. I’ll share my pencils with you,” I offered.
    Alex shook his head. “I can’t draw.”
    “And I couldn’t swim,” I retorted. But thanks to him, I’d finally learned. We’d been back to the black fairy lake many times. Once it got too cold to swim naked, Alex presented me with my very own wetsuit. It was bright pink and according to him, very unfashionable.
    “Never wear it on a public beach,” he warned me. “They’ll slay you and I won’t save you.”
    I didn’t care. I thought it was fabulous. My swimming ability had become fabulous too. I was now an accomplished dogpaddler. Like my wetsuit, it wasn’t sexy to look at but at least I could now save my own life if I ever fell into deep water.
    I handed him a sketchpad and two pencils.
    “Why two?” he asked naively.
    “One is lighter than the other,” I explained. “You might want to do some shading.”
    He huffed out a sharp laugh. “Stickmen don’t need shading.”
    “Draw what you can see, Alex.” I threw out my arms. “Look out there. You see the beauty in it, don’t you?”
    “Of course.” He smiled. “That’s why I brought you here.”
    I glanced around, trying to find somewhere to sit down. “Sit with me and draw it then.”
    “I am not sitting with you,” he scoffed. “You might see that my drawing is far more awesome than yours, steal my ideas and go on to make a fortune.”
    I giggled at his silliness. “Fine. You sit there.” I pointed to a large mossy rock behind him and walked a few metres away to claim my own. “I’ll sit here.”
    Alex’s eyes remained fixed on me while I sat down, flipped open my pad and began to draw. He finally followed suit, taking up position on the rock, sketchpad in hand.
    “What am I supposed to draw?” he asked in a whiny voice I never usually heard from him.
    “You have free run. It’s art.”
    “And what is art, Gabs?”
    I lowered my sketchpad and pointed to the view in front of us. “Art is beauty. Look out there and paint what you find beautiful.”
    “And wh- ”
    I cut him off. “Art is quiet too, Alex. Beautiful and quiet.”
    I saw him grinning at me from the corner of his eye. I fought hard not to smile