“What happened?” I whisper.
A swallow passes through his throat, and he looks up, straight into the open expanse above us. “What happened?” he repeats as if to himself. “We had four incredible years together. No—” He shakes his head. “Life-changing years. She challenged me to see things—things about life, even about myself—in ways I never would have otherwise. And then ...” He goes quiet, and it’s like he’s left me for an entirely different world inside his head.
My heart is tight as I hang onto every syllable, every drop of silence. “And then?”
His brow furrows before he slowly focuses on me again.
“What happened, Tim? Why did it end?”Why did you leave us?
But he doesn’t answer. Instead he stands, glances at his watch, and extends a hand to me. “I think it’s best if I let your mom share the rest with you.” When I don’t reach for him, he sighs, dropping his arm to his side. “I’m sorry, Blue. I really am. It’s just—that part’s simply not my story to tell. Anything else is open, but please ... please, save that one for your mom. I know it’s a lot to ask, but will you trust me on this? Is that okay?”
A vise wraps around my throat.No, I want to say,it’s not okay.
Instead, I feel myself nod.
Regardless of the past, I do trust him, and I trust Mom. Although, if I’m being honest with myself, I know there’s something more holding me back. Mom doesn’t keep things from me—except for this. I feel that sensation again, hot and scary, bubbling along the edges of my chest.Fear. It’s dark and bitter, and the awareness makes me sick to my stomach. I don’t like this side of my emotions, and I don’t think I’m ready to really see it head-on.
His posture relaxes. He closes his eyes for a minute. “Thank you,” he says gently, and we make our way back home.
The air is heavier now, pressing down on me, but I welcome the feeling with open arms. I try to focus on the good, the progress. My dad shared a piece of himself with me today. A piece of our history, and a piece of his heart. It’s only fair to give him the same.
I glance in his direction. “You know, when I was younger, I used to run through the woods just to make Mom chase me.”
Tim angles his chin to look down at me, his brows raised. I don’t know if his surprise is because I’m sharing something with him or because of what I’ve said, but either way, it makes my smile widen.
“Just to make her chase you?” he repeats.
I laugh, thankful for the mood shift. “Yup. And when I was really little, I’d do it totally nude. Luckily, I grew out of that.”
Tim lets out a loud belly laugh, and it’s contagious.
“I’d run and run, just for the rush, you know? Running through the woods is nothing like running out here.”
“No, I don’t imagine it is.”
I shake my head. “It’s open, endless—surrounded by the smell of wilderness and this wild, soulful energy you have to feel to believe. But to also have her chasing me was the best.”
Tim watches me intently. “Why’s that?”
“Because when she caught up, and she always did, she’d never actually catch me or try to stop me.”
“Now, why doesn’t that surprise me?”
“Right? Instead, she’d match my pace, flash me this hugegotchasmile, and then she’d just run alongside me. Even when she was tired, she wouldn’t stop until I was done chasing my high. Every time.”
His eyes brighten, hands resting in his pockets, and I spend the rest of the walk filling him in on whatever random thoughts about my childhood come to me—the egg-shaped sun I painted on my ceiling, the many nights Mom and I slept under the stars, Benji’s wild and one-of-a-kind antics. The conversation is easy and relaxing. Comfortable.
I smile, feeling the cold, smooth birthstones bounce gently against my chest. I wish Mom were here. But it’s okay. I know she’s working through something of her own. We are where we are, and everything will come together.
Hunt
Asting shoots through my lower lip as I run my tongue across the open cut. My grip tightens around the steering wheel, knuckles raw with broken skin, and I pull into the school’s parking lot.
Mac warned me about last night’s match, and I should’ve known better. Only the worst kind of scum sign up for the fights in Pleasant Grove, where people are ready to cheat at any cost, but I’m in a rut and needed some quick cash, not to mention an outlet for all this tension tightening my shoulders lately. Would’ve won that match too, if the opponent hadn’t gone behind my back and double-teamed me.
After exiting my truck, I grit my teeth and walk across the pavement, replaying the fight in my head. Picking it apart. But a flash of blonde and yellow pulls my attention ahead of me.
Blue’s parking her bike. Her hair’s in a loose braid hanging down her back, with white and yellow flowers tucked between each twist. My lips twitch, and I slow my pace despite my better judgment to stay away. She’s wearing a matching yellow dress. It’s sleeveless and loose, but with every slight breeze, the material sticks to a different part of her body. That’s all it takes for my pulse to spike, and my eyes glue to her like I’ve never seen a damn girl before.
