“What else? What do you want to do that you haven’t done? Don’t quit on me now, Thumbelina. I know you’ve got big dreams in that beautiful head of yours,” he murmurs.
Beautiful.
My fingers shake and I have to tuck them under my legs to hide the tremble. No one’s ever called mebeautifulbefore. “I’ve always wanted to volunteer. I feel like I have so much to give, but I’ve been too scared to try. I’m not always a sunshiny person and I’ve never wanted to bring anyone else down,” I mumble, tipping my shoulders up in a vain attempt to hide.
He cocks his head to the side, almost animal-like, again trying to see inside of my soul, as if it’s not already sitting on this table next to the fries, waiting for him to devour.
“I don’t buy that shit for a second. You have so much compassion in you that it radiates off your skin like sunlight. Youarea sunshiny person, you’re just weigheddown by bullshit. You’re going to let the bullshit go and work on a bright ass future. Tell me, Thumbelina. Tell me all your dreams,mi pequeño sol.”
Mi pequeño sol. My little sun.
The way he looks at me, right then and there, as if saying my dreams and putting them on a memo pad is the way to make my future happen, past baggage be damned, fills me with an overwhelming feeling of possibility.
Desire for an honest to God future courses through my veins. I can’t fight the smile that takes over my face as sunshine begins to seep through the dark clouds of my mind.
Suddenly, I see all sorts of possibilities.
Chapter 6
We went back andforth for the next few hours, talking about my future and my weird ideas for life. He shared some of his with me, but I noticed he was reluctant to give much information at all, always diverting the topic back to me.
We shared carbs and coffee, laughing and smiling as if we didn’t just meet a few hours ago under literal life and death circumstances.
I found myself so happy and content with him, this nameless stranger sitting across from me, helping me sort out my hopes and dreams, giving me a future. It should’ve felt strange, but instead, something huge was shifting in my world.
We finished off my list of reasons for a future full of joy and decided to order milkshakes. Neither of us seemed towant to go; I’d have been happy to sit and talk to him all day.
“What are your reasons for living, Redwood?” I ask as the waitress delivers our shakes, his Snickers flavored, mine strawberry.
“I already have my reasons for the future. I’ve always had hopes and dreams. Wanting a future isn’t my problem; it’s the future that’s being forced on me that I don’t want. Honestly, I don’t need a list of reasons. Today, when I was standing out on that ledge, I knew I didn’t want to be there. I knew all the people who’d miss and mourn me; my brothers would be devastated. I knew all those things. but I stayed there because I was scared.” Dropping a straw into my shake, he slides in it my direction before doing the same to his.
“To be honest, when I got the news yesterday, I drank way too fucking much, and I let myself spiral. I let the anger of my situation, the frustration of feeling like my life isn’t mine anymore, push me over the edge. That edge is exactly where I found myself at 5:00 am today. It’s where you found me, and do you want to know the craziest part?” he asks with a look of awe that confuses me.
“What?′ I say, leaning forward.
“When you showed up, I was asking God, or the universe, or whoever the fuck was listening, for a sign. I wanted one thing to give me a sign that I’d made the wrong choice, that I’d get through what’s in store for me, that even though this isn’t what I want, that I’ll survive it. You showed up at that exact moment, Thumbelina.” His throats works a heavy swallow as he grips his glass, tight enough that I begin to worry it’ll crack.
“It could’ve been anyone. It could’ve been a cop, or some angry commuter. It could’ve been a bird shitting on my shoe. It could’ve been any sign, and I would’ve taken it, because I’m not ready to go, but it wasn’t any of those things. It wasyou.It was you and it was me, and I have to believe that whoever the fuck is out there made that happen for us. We saved each other so you can fight your past for a future, and I can fight my future for a life. That’s my reason. I don’t need a list; I got my answer today.” He finishes his thoughts with a massive, heartwarming smile.
I can’t help but listen, enthralled by how positive he is. He said it was the worst day of his life, yet here he is, being fifty shades of philosophical and so damn sure of not only his future, but mine too.
I can’t help but be in awe of him, this beautiful, skyscraper of a man, covered in tattoos with a hard as hell exterior, spouting about signs, dreams, and futures like he’s meant to.
“Who the hell are you?” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion.
He smiles at me with his mega-watt, panty-melting smile. “I’m a stranger, Thumbelina. I’m exactly who and where I should be.”
“Can you tell me anything about yourself? What’s your real name? Am I ever going to see you again?” I practically beg.
Please say yes. This can’t be it.
His smile fades as quickly as it arrived, and he turns to look out the window, onto the busy street. He stays quiet for a few minutes, his jaw starting to flex and tick. I don’t understand what just happened. I know he said we’restrangers, but it sure as hell doesn’t feel that way anymore. I’ve never had a connection with someone like this.
He finally looks back at me with a heavy grimace etched on his perfect face. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetheart. My life is no place for someone with such a beautiful future ahead of them. I think we should just keep our names as is: Thumbelina and Redwood. Anonymity. Strangers.”
Sweetheart.
“Oh,” I whisper, feeling completely defeated. My heart, the thing I try to keep from feeling anything, cracks. He grabs my hand from the table and gives it a squeeze.
