“I’m a shortstop for MCU,” he says.
Monterey Coastal University.
I went there before it all went to shit. I want to voice that out loud, but I can’t. My lips feel glued together. The reminder of my first year there and everything that transpired after makes me feel so many things I wish I didn’t.
“I don’t care.” I bristle.
It’s a shit thing to say, but I hope it’s mean enough he’ll get the memo, but somehow Daniel doesn’t. Or he does but he doesn’t care.
The moon is bright enough, it bathes him with its light, giving me just enough to see him from my periphery. He shrugs, tucking his hands in his pockets.
“No one knows, but friends confide in each other, so I thought I’d share it with you.” It’s a simple statement, but something so definite.
My brows pull together at his words. They settle on my chest, but they don’t feel like stones. More like…feathers…weightless.
As I see him turn his head, I quickly look away. I don’t want him to know that his words have somehow penetrated a part of me. Blinking, I quietly sigh, and toss his words out, letting them sink.
“Don’t share anything else. I don’t care,” I adamantly warn.
“Then share something with me.”
I say nothing because there’s nothing to say.
So, I let my head hang, staring at the roaring water as it collides against the large slab of rock. Every time it does, the air whooshes, blowing against me. A reminder, a glimpse, a tease at what’s to come.
“I will miss you.” His words penetrate me again, but again, I swat them away.
Words, that’s all they are. Meaningless and insignificant; anyone can say them and make you feel special.
“We may not know each other, but I will miss you, and Iwon’tforget you,” Daniel adds.
I wish it sounded useless and something to fill the space, which feels all too tight and suffocating. Comical considering I’m standing on the edge of a cliff, staring at the ocean that stretches miles beyond.
My head jerks back, and I don’t realize what I’m doing until my head is turned, tipped to look up at him. He’s already looking down at me, and while I can’t see his face well, I know his eyes are on me.
They feel intense, like they’ve dug deep in my brain, and self-consciously, I fold my arms against my chest.
“You can’t miss someone you don’t know,” I angrily snap.
“Then let me know you,” he counters determinedly. “I want to know you.”
My skin itches, anxiety crawling all over my body. And my heart races as if I had done laps at the pool.
“No, you want to save me, and you think that’s going to happen, but I’ve come to terms with my decision.” I shake my head, feeling my resolve almost crumble before me. The idea of me jumping off is slipping away. Licking my lips, I blow out a committed but weary breath. “I don’t know what to…feel.” My voice cracks. “And I’m done trying to…understand…”
My heart painfully expands against my rib cage, the beats near deafening, drowning out the noises around me. Giving me the final push to end it all. And so I do. I close my eyes and take purposeful steps toward the very edge of the cliff.
But the fall never comes.
Only arms—strong, thick, and weighted around my torso.
Hauling and holding me back.
Grounding me.
Saving me.
Protecting me.
