And then without speaking, he starts to move toward me. I relax onto my back in the sand, and he crawls over me, boxing me in with his hands on either side of my face, his lean body hovering above mine, muscles in his shoulders straining with the effort. And then his face slowly morphs into a smile of pure wonder, lighting up his eyes. “I enjoy that answer very much.”
“Of course you would.” I heckle.
His shoulders bounce as he laughs above me. The moonlight illuminates his messy tousle of hair from behind and I take a turn giggling in disbelief as the improbability of this new reality settles between us. He goes quiet at the sound, like he needs to be still to marvel at me. And when I realize, I go still too. But then his face parts in a grin again and his head drops. It’s like playing a game of hot potato, lobbing the imaginary force of it back and forth. Laughter begetting laughter begetting laughter.
Finally, the last of our laughter fizzles out like finishing the last sip of bubbly, and we allow the silence. I think he’s a second away from bending his elbows and lowering his mouth onto mine when he says, “Wanna play the question game?”
“Sure,” I exhale, a mixture of shock and unmet want.
He quickly bends his elbows and tucks his hands into hischest, unfolding next to me onto his back. The crash of waves fills the pause as he situates himself.
“Okay. First question,” Declan says. “If a crystal ball could tell you anything about your future, what would you want to know?”
I catch him looking at something in his left hand.
“Are you reading from a list?” I demand.
“Maybe,” he says, faux shyness creeping into his voice.
I shake my head, but then the answer hits me. I contemplate choosing a lighter one, but I can’t think of a decoy in time. So out it comes. “I’d probably ask if I’ll ever see my dad again.”
The darkness has gone from navy blue to nearly black except for the subtle glow of the moonlight. If the world didn’t feel so still, I don’t think I’d have offered this level of candor.
Declan rolls onto his side in the sand, facing me with his head on his bicep.
“You know,” his voice is soft, like an outstretched hand inviting me in. “It’s on your dad for never coming back. Not you.”
I stare at a specific star in the sky, scared of how my face will betray me if I look at him.
“Yeah, I know,” I choke out. “I just think—” I press my lips together.
“You just think what?”
“I know my dad is the only one to blame for his actions. But knowing something and believing it are two different things.”
I feel Declan’s meaningful stare on the side of my face, but I don’t turn. If I meet his eyes and see sadness in them, I’ll stop saying how I really feel. And it feels good to say it out loud for once.
“You blame yourself?” Declan says it like a fact. “For howhe left you and your mom. You’ve somehow deduced that it was your fault?”
“Well,” I huff, turning to meet his eyes finally. “It sounds so wrong when you put it like that. But when you’re five and no one is telling you what’s going on, it’s only natural to make up your own conclusion. Even if the information you’ve gathered with your tiny mind is incorrect.”
“Hey,” Declan protests. “My five-year-old brain loved your tiny mind. As unformed as it was, it was responsible for all your cute little expressions.”
My mouth splits into a smile.
“But in all seriousness, I know what you mean. About knowing something is true but not believing it. You came to the false conclusion that there was something about you that caused your dad to leave, and you started believing that so long ago, it’s hard to spontaneously not believe it anymore. Even with your grown-up brain.” He taps the side of my temple playfully. I laugh and then his expression becomes grave again. “But, Blair, someone who chose to leave you must be the stupidest man in the entire world. There’s just no other explanation.”
The corners of my lips wobble and I have to smash them together to prevent my chin from trembling too. “That’s what you said our freshman year too.”
“Hah,” he laughs. “I must still be bad at comforting you then.”
“No,” I say quietly as I relax my head into the sand and stare at the sky again. “You’re very good at it.”
He must know I’ve laid down to avoid being looked at while I fight grateful tears, so he joins me in looking at the sky.
“I don’t know if your dad is in your future, but I know I will be,” he says, voice husky like it’s been forced from his throat. “If you let me be.”
“Of course I will.” There’s nothing I want more, I don’t add.
