Ever:Went for a beach run and coffee. Best separate night’s sleep ever.
Rolling onto my back, holding the phone above my head, I stare at the screen and grin like a fool. I can’t wait. I spring from the sheets, shower and dress in record time and drive to Fit.
Two hours later, I’m back at the house with a solid plan in place. Tapping my chest, I turn in slow circles, taking in my surroundings. My mind is made up. Taking the stairs two at a time, I charge into my room and drag my duffel out of the closet and toss it on the bed. I empty drawers and stuff it to the hilt. I take another bag from thetop of the closet and begin filling it, too. Details don’t matter—for once. They’ll welcome me with open arms. I know it. My heart races atnothaving a solid plan in place, but I’ve never been more certain of anything.
My mind replays our conversation on my last night in Malibu as we watched the sunset on the beach. We sat on a blanket, her between my legs, back against my chest, and listened to the waves crash while the glowing orb disappeared before us. The air was thick with salty moisture, waving her hair. The breeze chilled our skin the lower the sun sank.
“This is perfect.” She reaches her hand to my cheek, trapping our faces together. Her fingernails scrape along the rough shadow of hair on my jaw.
“You’reperfect.” I squeeze her in my arms and revel in the gift of this girl.
She drops her hand and sighs, her energy doing a one-eighty.
“What just happened?” Her answer is a shaky exhale. “Everly, talk to me.” I lean sideways to look in her eyes. Hers are downcast. It reminds me of her shift at the sushi restaurant. I brave the question this time. “Baby, tell me what’s going on in there.”
Blowing air through pursed lips, she meets my eyes, her voice a hoarse whisper. “I’m not perfect.” Her eyes fill and two glowing tracks race down her cheeks, on fire in the waning sun.
I don’t want to tell her she’s never looked more beautiful because she’s clearly upset. I open my mouth to say something to erase the sadness.
She stops me with a shake of her head. “Don’t, Julie. I’m not. I kissed Seth. In Pismo last year. When Taya came back.”
Now it’s my turn to blow air through pursed lips. “Okay. Not what I expected to come out of your mouth.”
“I know.” She sucks in a shaky breath to stop the sob trying to escape. “I didn’t mean to. I drank a lot—that’s not an excuse. I didn’t . . . it didn’t . . . I threw up after. I swear that’s all that happened. And I . . . It was only for a second. And it was all wrong because it wasn’t you and—”
“Shhh, Ever. Sweet girl. Stop.” I kiss her temple as she buries her face in my chest, shaking her head and sucking in gulps of air. “None of that matters. But now I get why you were so weird around him at Christmas.”
“You could tell?”
“I could tell.”
“I’m so sorry, Julie. I had to tell you. I couldn’t hear you say I’m perfect one more time, because I can’t take it when you say things like that. I feel like a fraud.” Another shaky exhale and she’s gripping my chest like a lifeline. “I probably shouldn’t have told you. It’s selfish to confess just to absolve my guilt. Because it meant nothing. It never did. I was just spiraling at the time. But I don’t want to keep secrets or lie to you by omission. I’m so sorry, Julie. You deserve better than that.”
Compared to all the shit we’ve been through, this is not even making my radar. I couldn’t care less about some random almost nothing kiss. And that surprises me a little. Maybe therapy is working better than I thought. That she is so upset is a testament to her pure heart and makes me love her even more. It also makes me want to turn her mood around. “So you threw up, huh? On him? Please tell me it was on him.” My answer is her watery giggle.
“No. But . . . next to him.” She sniffs and tucks her cheek against my chest.
“Close enough for me.”
“You’re not mad?” She tilts her head back to gauge my expression.
I kiss her upturned nose. “No, pretty girl, I’m not. But poor Seth should be if his kisses make girls want to vomit.” I chuckle at my own joke, still marveling at how truly not pissed I am or even put out at all. Some drunken half kiss compared to what we have is a non-issue. She opens her mouth to clarify but I stop her. “I know it was the alcohol. Just let me have that one. Okay?”
“Okay, Julie.” She sniffs again and whispers, “I love you.”
“I know, Ever. I love you too. So. Much.” I squeeze her again. Then I add, “That was . . . Taya coming back was . . . a lot. Under the circumstances, I’m not sure I could blame you. And I don’t.”
“I just ran because that’s what I do. What I did,” she corrects. She traces my tattoo again as she talks. “It was like I didn’t have my own life, only yours. And then your life wasn’t what I thought it was. So I dipped, took off.”
“You don’t have to explain. I kinda came around to all that over the last seven months. Had plenty of time to think.”
“It’s why I was so hell-bent on making a new life that was all mine. Like if I built a life that was mine, I wouldn’t run anymore.” She snuggles her back into my chest again and tucks her hands over mine across her ribcage, locking our fingers.
“I get that, too. And you killed it. It’s a pretty solid life you’ve built.” I dip my nose behind her ear and stare out over the darkening waves. “I’m so damn proud of you, Ever.”
“I know. You already said that.”
“Yeah, I did, sassy girl. And I mean it. You’re magic.”
