Panic.
Fear.
Terror.
Every emotion swirls through me, but the most prominent… is anger.
“Why thefuckdo you have a picture of me!? Of… of us!... In your… What the f-fuck is going on here!?” I stutter, backing away from him, unable to find the right words, so they’re coming out rushed and garbled. “Why can’t I—”
Ricky places the picture of him and his mother back on the desk; his eyes filled with sorrow and unshed tears. “Please, I’m just… Baby, don’t—”
“Baby? don’t call me that! You don’t get to call me that!!” I bark, pointing at him, thrusting the picture of us against his chest and stepping away from him. My throat starts to tighten, air becoming trapped in my lungs, affecting my breathing. “What the fuck is…. What’s g-going—”
My heart races, my hands tremble as I wring them together. Christ, I’m sweating. I claw at my knitted sweater to rid my skin of the itch it’s causing as I look directly at the images of us he’s still holding against his chest.
I’m smiling, my head is thrown back in hilarity as though I find something genuinely funny, and I’m being carried by none other than the man in front of me. Ricky holds me in his arms bride-style, both of us standing outside my house in the height of summer. Sunlight beaming down on our sun-kissed skin, amusement on both our faces.
We’re both in swimwear, too. Me, in a tiny pink bikini with pink flip flops, and Ricky wearing nothing but black board shorts. His stunning, broad smile hits me deep within the quickened beats of my heart, and I choke on a strangled sob, stumbling as fresh air evades me and my lungs tighten further. All I can do is release choked, staccato breaths the longer I stare at the image. Panting frantically as I try my damndest to remember this moment between us. To rememberhim.
“Wh-what’s going on I-I can’t… b-breathe.”
Ricky takes the weight of me in his arms as I collapse into him. The beer from his red cup sloshes over the rim and onto the dark wooden flooring of his bedroom. Both of us falling to the ground with a heavythud. I don’t know where it comes from, or why it happens, but I sob… uncontrollably.
“I can’t… I… R-Ricky,” I stutter through the tears, fighting for air as he wraps his arm around my waist and presses his other hand to my chest, rocking me slowly in his hold.
“Focus on my breathing, baby, I’ve got you.”
“I… I…” Tears spill over my lower lash line.
“Shhh,” he hums softly, brushing the hair back from my sweat-ridden forehead. “I’ll explain everything. I just need you to breathe with me, okay. Slow now,” he instructs. “Nice… and slow.”
The inhale I take is jerky. “P-please,” I whimper.
“I know. I know, baby. Come on, you can do this. In and out, with me.”
I follow his instructions, breathing with him, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. The more I remember the image of us, the more the broken pieces of my memory begin to return.
The first time we met and how I was ditching math class to be in the sun. The way he caught me red-handed because he was sitting in the tree directly outside of the college exit. Even down to the memory of him showing me his art for the first time.
Pages and pages… of my face, water colour, abstract, even manga.
Everything… comes rushing back.
“Ricky!?” I call, cupping my hands around my mouth. I know this son of a bitch is around here somewhere, hiding from me so he can give me another heart attack.
Once both of us were done swimming in the lake a mile back from my house, he decided to climb out and run away from me, and I’ve been looking for him ever since he took off like a bat out of hell. He does this all the time, because apparently scaring me is one of his favourite things to do.
We were supposed to go to Mexico with all of Greek row for spring break, but seeing as my mother was travelling to London to spend some time with my aunt—after my father’s… untimely death—Ricky and I decided to stay here for the summer.
Two weeks of just me and him living together and enjoying the sun with no interruptions. Nobody to bother us, and nothing to care about but each other. I couldn’t think of anything better—even though his fraternity brothers were less than thrilled about the idea of him not being there.
“Ricky, I swear to god!” I call, fighting the smile on my face. “Get out here right now!” I shout again, but much louder this time as I turn around, walking backwards for a few paces before I right myself once more. The fucker stole my denim shorts when he left the lake too, so I’ve been walking around in the pink bikini he bought me last month.
After a few moments, I move through the forest’s edge and stride towards the front of my house, but before I have a chance to get any closer, I hear the sound of his feet hitting the ground behind me and the loud roar he bellows scares the absolute shit out of me. I release a deafening, high-pitched scream as my body jerks in horror and I practically jump out of my skin.
Ricky grabs my waist and spins me around to face him, widening his stance so he doesn’t tread on my toes. “Gotcha!”
“You asshole!” I smack him repeatedly against his bare chest, giggling along with him. “What is wrong with you?” I laugh, smacking him on his shoulder once more for good measure.
