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"Was starting to get worried about you." He pinches my side, and I wiggle out of his hold. Trish and Neil are talking to a guy I haven't seen before. He isn't part of our normal crew. His long dark hair is pulled into a bun, and he's shirtless, his jean shorts cut off mid-thigh. Frayed and worn. A woman stands next to him, her clothes threadbare, the colorful fabric faded over time to an almost pastel tone.
"That's Crow and Danae. They're Deadheads."
My eyes go wide, never having heard that term before. "Deadheads?"
He lifts an eyebrow. "You don't know about them?"
I shake my head.
"Hippies. Like, not the fake shit. The real, real hippies. The free people."
I look around, seeing everyone who we've been around for months. We're all hippies, in a way. Free people. We don't follow the rules like the people who have regular day jobs. We follow our own rules, and if someone doesn't like it, well, we usually just continue what we're doing.
"Aren't we all hippies?" I ask, my face scrunching up in confusion.
He laughs, "Not even close," he leans down, pressing his lips against my neck. I step out of his hold, feeling like every day he's getting clingier and clingier. Sometimes my body crawls when he touches me. My skin twitches when his fingers hover. I find myself more and more wanting to step out of his hold instead of into it. I need more breaths of fresh away, away from people, more alone time.
I've never felt an inkling of what I did when I was with Roman. After being with someone for so long, my feelings should be growing fonder instead of less. But I feel myself separating, my body disconnecting from it all.
I know that my feelings should've developed into something deeper, but there's an invisible wall around my heart. Only one person has ever been able to slither past that barrier. Knock it down until it's a rubble of dust at my feet.
That same person built that wall back up and solidified the bricks with the firmest cement. I don't think anyone will be able to get past that wall again.
Most of all, Willie.
What we have is so miniscule compared to what I had with Roman. Our love was unstoppable, but it was also tragic. Tragedy was our downfall in the end.
"What's the matter?" Willie asks, his tanned face lowering in concern. "You've been distant lately. Did I do something wrong?"
I shake my head, feeling like I've been keeping him on a string when there wasn't even a string to be kept on. I never should've let it get this far, yet here I am, wanting comfort and love all the while knowing he could never be the one to give it to me.
"It's nothing." I look at Crow and Danae, wondering why Neil and Trish look so excited. "What's going on over there?"
He looks over his shoulder, a crease between his eyes. "They're talking about going up to Santa Cruz." His eyes come back to mine, heavy, lost, a little angry. "Don't change the subject. Something's different with you. Something's wrong. What is it?"
My nostrils flare as my eyes connect with his. There's a volatility in his gaze that puts me off. None of us have ever even gotten angry with each other. Maybe a slight disagreement, but we aren't people to fight. We don't like conflict. I never have. The brashness in his tone makes me uncomfortable. "Why are you acting like this?" I take a step back from him, and that only makes his eyes darken further. His hand reaches out, his long fingers gripping my wrist tightly. Firmly.
"I'm just wondering what it is I've done to make you turn frosty. You've never been a particularly warm person, Luna, but it's like you can't even stand to be by me anymore."
I hold the breath in my lungs, my chest expanding and the walls screaming for relief. I know I need to tell him the truth—that I could never love him. That whatever we have is going nowhere. That our intimacy is meaningless to me because every moment with him is a moment that I wish I was with someone else.
"Willie, I think we need to cool off. Just remain friends for a bit. I… I've been hurt in the past, you know?"
He shakes his head, this being the angriest I've ever seen him. "No. I don't know, because you don't tell us anything! You don't tellmeanything. The most I know about you is that you grew up in Wisconsin and wake up most nights drenched in sweat. Why? What is it that you dream about every night? What happened to you, Luna, and why won't you let me in?"
My body quakes, an unbearable scream barreling in the pit of my chest. It rages, banging against each rib and causing me immense pain.
"Because I will never love you," I say honestly, brokenly. Maybe I would give him my heart if that was a possibility. But maybe I wouldn't. He was a filler. Nothing more. Nothing less.
Anger flashes in his eyes, a wave of rage more turbulent than the ocean behind me. "And why not? Am I not good enough for you?" he asks, taking a step toward me. I step back out of instinct, the alarm bells ringing in my head.
I shake my head. "I can't love you because my heart belongs to someone else. Not a surface love, but an all-consuming love that changes a person inside and out. I found my soulmate, and I have to stop pretending with myself that what I can give you is anything like I gave him, because it's a lie. I'll never be able to give you my love, because it's not mine to give any longer."
His jaw clenches, the sun reflecting off his tense bone crushing against bone. He's handsome, but my heart doesn't even leap for him.
"If you found yourself in thisall-consuminglove, then where is he? It's been me you've been sleeping with for three years, not him. Where is he then, huh? I don't see him anywhere." He extends his arms, kicking the sand as he spins in a circle.
"We broke up," I whisper on a broken breath. The words even slipping against my tongue are painful. Saying them aloud is gut-wrenching.
