“You’re coming with me,” I told him, the decision final.
fifteen
Dex - Past
SO THERE’S THIS GUY.
Waves crashed endlessly. Water rolled over itself and thrashed against stone, carried by the current, by the wind. An eternal push and pull.
No matter what happened in Port Skelton, this place remained the same. It was unaffected by trivial human matters and pursuits. It felt real in a way that most things didn’t, in the way that only the ocean could.
Being here always filled me with a sick sort of satisfaction. It made me feel small, made my problems feel small, like while I was here they weren’t real and didn’t matter. Like while I was here, none of it could hurt me. Ironic, I suppose, considering what had happened here twelve years ago.
“So there’s this guy,” I said with a sigh. I’m not sure why I was telling him, maybe because there was no one else to tell. Maybe because I thought he’d want to know. “I think I’m interested in him. Like, actually interested…” I brought my cigarette to my lips, taking a long drag and letting the wind steal the smoke as I exhaled, carrying it somewhere imperceivable, dispersing it into the atmosphere until it was nothing, along with the rest of my secrets. “It scares me.”
My boots ground against the small stones and dirt beneath me, my eyes locked onto a small black ant on a mission, scouting the area, unbothered by my presence.
“I don’t know if he’s interested in me, but it feels like… something. Something I haven’t felt before. I’m not sure what to do about it.”
Another exhale, smoke whipped away before it had a chance to plume. The ant found a seed.
“What should I do, Dad?” I asked.
There was no response. There hadn’t been a response for twelve years. I’d thought if there was ever going to be one, if there was going to be any trace of him at all, it would be here, where he’d died.
I clicked his lighter in my hand, watching as the flame died before it could even ignite. It didn’t stand a chance at life against this wind. Twice more I tried; twice more it died. I turned my attention back to the ant, watching as it lifted the seed almost its own size over its head to carry back to wherever its nest was.
I understood why Dad had chosen this place. It was peaceful but not silent. Loud in ways that didn’t trigger him. I didn’t understand it at the time—why he had to leave so often, why he chose that day not to come back—but I did now. I understood it too well.
I didn’t want to follow my dad’s example, not because I didn’t feel the call of the rocks at the bottom of this cliff, or of the waves that promised blissful silence and a watery embrace. A way to wash away my pain. No, that wasn’t why I chose not to stay here forever like he had. It was because suicide felt like proving my mother right, and that was the last thing I ever wanted to do.
That being said, living wasn’t great either. So I did it recklessly. I didn’t care who I pissed off and picked fights with. I didn’t watch my mouth. I didn’t care about consequences. It was incredibly liberating not to give a single fuck about anything. And if doing whatever the fuck I wanted ended up getting me killed, well, thatwas fine too. As long as I was breathing, though, I was gonna make that everyone else’s problem.
Standing up and taking one last long look at the ocean beneath the storm clouds that were rolling in, I crushed the ant and its treasure with my boot. Another miserable day in hell.
“Later, Dad.”
“You’re early,” Roy grumbled from the reception desk as I walked through the door, his thick brows furrowed, that eternally displeased expression on his face.
“So?” I shot back as I attempted to continue past him, only for a large, callused hand to press against my chest and halt me in my tracks.
“So your shift don’t start for another thirty minutes. Beat it, kid. I’m not paying you overtime.”
“I’m not asking you for overtime.”
“Damn right you ain’t, cause you ain’t working. Now get the fuck out of here till the shop opens.”
“I’ll do what I want, old man.” I knocked his hand away with only half the force I would have used for anyone else.
“Not in my shop you won’t, brat.” Roy huffed. The thick curtain of his mustache hairs twitched with his breath.
“You gonna stop me?” I raised a brow in challenge. I didn’t doubt he’d have the capability if he really wanted to. Roy was twice my age, but he was also twice as bulky. His dark shirt stretched to capacity over thick shoulders and sculpted biceps, the buttons clinging on for dear life down the center as his breaths expanded the muscle of his chest. He had a body built from hard work and heavy lifting.
“I will if I have to, boy.” He didn’t miss a beat, staring with the pale eyes of a predator, almost matching mine in color, though Roy’s were more blue than gray, in stark contrast to his tan skin and dark hair.
I groaned. “But I’m bored, and I’m already here.”
Roy huffed, a response I was familiar with. By now I knew the old mechanic well enough that I could translate entire sentences from his huffs. This one said, “That’s not my problem, and I won’t be persuaded otherwise.”
