It takes way too long for him to get over it, and once my briefs are dry, I grab my shirt and pull it back on to avoid being burned.
“I needed that,” he says, flopping back on the rock like a seal, droplets of water flinging everywhere. “We should do this again.”
I nod so he knows that I’d like that.
“I really love Wilde’s End,” he continues. “This place is the perfect example. It’s like a hidden paradise, and I bet there are so many other great spots like this one.”
Wilde’s End is as familiar to me as a city. The trails are the streets, the trees are direction markers, and everywhere I go has a destination I’m traveling to. I can understand why it’s all so fascinating and mysterious to Kennedy, but I doubt he’ll feel the same once the newness wears off. I’m about to get up the courage to ask him when he continues.
“Maybe I’ll bring Hartwell here. He’s so determined to be negative about everything, but this place has to change his mind. He used to have fun—maybe this will remind him what that was like.”
What kind of fun?It’s a perfectly normal, average question that will keep the conversation going. Something easy to start with. Something that will keep Kennedy interested in talking. I repeat the line in my head, get familiar with it and how to make it sound. I’m about to push the words out when he chuckles to himself.
“I bet there’d be something wrong with … I don’t know, the color of the water or … the sun being too hot.”
Like that, my chance to ask is gone. Frustration flickers in my chest. Iwantto be part of the conversation. Normally, I love that Kennedy can carry it by himself. It’s helped me get comfortable with him, taken the pressure out of spending time with him, but moments like this, where I want to be involved, it hurts to not get the chance.
I want it to make a difference that I’m here.
“Damn, the sun’ssowarm,” he moans happily, stretching out. Before I can agree, he continues. “I’m probably getting burned, and I don’t even care.” Another short pause. “You know, the sky is my favorite thing in maybe the whole wide world.” Words are clawing at my throat. “It’s so big, you know? Just covers everything. Goes so far.” There’s another short gap, and as he opens his lips to continue, I lean over and cover his mouth with my hand.
His eyes fly wide in surprise, and I squeeze mine closed so I don’t get intimidated by his expression. I don’t want to see curiosity or worry or surprise or any of it.
I want to beinvolved.
I have so many questions stockpiled for Kennedy that I don’t even know which to start with. My hands are shaking, and somewhere deep in my soul, the wrong kinds of words echo, like scars that will never fade.Weird, loser, talk like a girl …
My deep inhale burns in my lungs, and I hold it for a moment before breathing out again.
I’m at the river. I’m with Kennedy.
He wouldn’t know the first thing about being mean.
Instead of asking a question about him, different words come. Ones that offer up a small piece of myself to him.
“I like … spending time … with you.”
CHAPTER
TEN
KENNEDY
Ziggy’s eyes are squashed closed, but those whispered words pull at something in my gut. I’m smiling hard behind his hand, and I have so many things I want to say back, but I’ve sort of blinked offline.
His eyes peek open as he slowly releases my mouth.
“If you like hanging out with me so much,” I start, throat strangled with something I can’t place, “why the hell did you disappear for three whole days?”
I’m expecting him to shrug me off, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t answer either. I sit up to see him closer, and I’m about to rephrase the question into a yes or no one for him, when his hand slaps over my mouth again.
He’s breathing deeply, eyes locked on the rock under us this time, and I study him, trying to figure out what’s going on.
“I was busy,” he murmurs, lips barely moving, like he’s scared to open his mouth too much.
Wait … like he’sscared?
It suddenly clicks what’s happening here. Keeping me quiet, the steady breathing, the slight tremor in his arm … he’s working really hard at this.
