“How many people do you think have drowned down there?” I ask, staring at the river.
Cullen chokes on his food. “That’s a dark thought.”
I shrug. All my thoughts are dark lately. “It’s peaceful here. Would be a nice place to die.”
He coughs harder, wheezing. I reach to pat his back, but he bats my hand away. When he turns to me, his face is red and furious. “What the hell? Why would you say something like that?”
“It was an observation, Cull. Chill.” I sigh, unable to force any inflection in my tone.
He stares at me like he’s trying to read something on my face, but I’ve made sure there’s nothing there. He might be able to feel the hollowed-out parts of me, but he can’t see the thoughts behind them.
“Please don’t talk like that,” he pleads. His voice is quieter now, but still tense. He shifts sideways on the tailgate, knees up to face me, then he tugs on my arm. I don’t resist. I turn, letting my back rest against the truck’s side. His eyes search mine again, frantic and raw. “I know things are hard right now, but I need you to keep fighting. Everything will work out. It has to.”
He’s trying to convince himself as much as he’s trying to convince me. I don’t tell him that, though.
“I have faith in us,” he continues, voice tightening. “Come September, we’ll be roommates. We’ll push our beds together in the dorm, and cuddle at night, and go to dumb parties on the weekends. We’ll make it onto State’s soccer team and win a championship. And you,” he gives me a small, broken smile, “you’re going to earn a dozen degrees with that big, beautiful brain of yours.”
He grabs my hand, squeezing it like it’ll keep me here.
“You have a future, Hudson.Wehave a future. Please… hold on to that. Hold on to me.”
I want to. God, I want to.
But right now, all I feel is the cold river water pulling me under.
The words are beautiful, but they feel like a mirage in the desert. They shimmer in the heat, a promise on the horizon, but the moment you reach for it, it vanishes. They were never real. Never a true possibility.
I don’t think my future is out there anymore, and I don’t want to give Cullen false hope that he could possibly be happy with whatever I’m becoming.
“It sounds nice,” I huff, “but it’s just hard to see that right now.”
“I get that,” he replies, “but I need you to try, baby.”
I give him the smallest smile I can manage and turn my face back toward the river.
Something dark shifts at the end of the railroad bridge, so I squint into the bright afternoon light, trying to make it out. My blood chills when I realize it’s a person, someone dressed entirely in black, just standing there.
I nudge Cullen with my elbow. “Cull, there’s someone at the end of the bridge… and he’s staring at us.”
He doesn’t even look, just picks at the burger in his lap. “I’m sure we’re not the only people who come here, Hud.”
“We’ve been coming here for seven years and have never seen another soul, Cullen.” My voice is sharper now. The way I say his full name gets his attention.
He glances up, his muscles going rigid. He slides off the tailgate and stands to block me from view, shielding me.
I peer around him, trying to make out the figure’s face, but he’s too far away.
“He’s too far to see clearly,” I whisper, like the guy might somehow hear me from one hundred yards away. Then the figure raises a phone and snaps a picture. A second later, he turns and disappears into the trees.
Cullen’s already moving.
“Cull, stop!” I shout, the words tearing from me, but he’s not listening. He scrambles up the incline toward the bridge, vaults over the rusted railing, and runs straight into possible danger. Panic claws at my throat as I bolt after him, shouting his name. By the time I reach the railing, he’s halfway across the bridge.
He slows to a stop, bent over with his hands on his knees, panting hard. I catch up just as he reaches down to pick something up. A piece of paper, folded and crumpled at the edges.
The moment I reach him, the numbness I’ve been trapped in breaks. All the fear, rage, and helplessness flood to the surface, boiling over. I shove Cullen hard in the chest.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? That guy could’ve had a gun! What if he was trying to lure us here to hurt us?”
