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“Nah.”
He knew it was two hours away and that we’d have plenty of time together.
It doesn’t take long for us to find the perfect spot to lie down. The silence that follows is thick but comfortable. It’s peaceful. Light. Haze is lying on his back with one of his arms under his head and the other alongside his body.
I do the same, tossing my hair to the front and wondering how I could live without these little wonders for so long. The artificial city lights take away the gifts Mother Nature gave us. They’re always there. But the fake replaces the real.
Kind of like falling for someone. You might not see the feelings, but they’re there. Always. Just because they’re buried deep under denial and repression doesn’t mean that they don’t infiltrate your every thought and intoxicate every heartbeat. Just because something is bad for you doesn’t mean you don’t crave it with every fiber of your being.
That’s what makes love the most dangerous feeling of all.
“Where were you?” I regret saying the words as soon as they come out.
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.”
He lets out a long breath. “I was around.”
“Seriously? That’s all I get?”
Irritation spreads across his face.
“What else do you want me to say, Winter? I don’t owe you an explanation for everything I do. I’m not your boyfriend.”
Harsh.
“Right.” I sit up, staring at the ocean in the distance.
As soon as he says it, he seems to feel guilty. He sits up as well and mumbles incomprehensible words, blathering a confusing apology.
“No, it’s fine. You’re right. You’re not my boyfriend. But I thought we were friends. My mistake.”
He remains quiet, fighting a war within himself.
“I’ve been in and out of town,” he finally whispers.
“Would it be too far to ask why?”
“I can’t tell you anything else. You already know too much.”
“I know too much? Are you serious? I know nothing about you except that you have a psycho brother and that you hate spiders.”
He exhales. “I’m sorry.”
I lower my head. “Me too.”
Again, to push the irony even further, he has a hard time finding an answer good enough to give me.
“I’m hungry,” he says.
“Seriously? Way to ruin a dramatic moment.” I struggle to hold on to the anger that quickly spills out of me. I’m supposed to be mad at him.
“What? You’re the one who mentioned a picnic.”
“You should’ve thought about that before driving almost two hours out of town.”
We laugh quietly.
