He searches my face like he’s looking for a sign that I understand him. That he won’t have to fill in the part of that question he left blank.
Everything about him has always meant something to me, so it isn’t until his eyes fall to my lips that I know.
“It meant everything,” I whisper.
He nods as if he thought that’s what I would say, and then looks away. I can’t blame him. He’s fresh off a break up, and I’m… well, I don’t know what I am. Someone who is more confused than ever, but not about our first kiss.
The point is, neither of us is in a place for that conversation to go any further than a clarification that should have happened years ago. Maybe there will never be a right time for us. If not, I hope we’ll always have Bear Lake.
I feel a gentletug, tug, tugon the end of my pole and sit a little straighter. “Miles, I think I got something!”
It tugs again, and this time, he sees it too.
“Well, reel it in,” he reprimands with a laugh, and I begin spinning the handle as fast as I can.
I’ve caught many fish before. Sometimes it’s a struggle, but this one takes me two seconds to reel all the way in. A tiny little minnow, not much bigger than a tadpole, thrashes at the surface. I giggle at its size as Miles grabs my line and plucks the poor thing off the end. He transfers it to my palm, and it dances around as we grin at each other. I ease my hand back toward the water, and we both lean over the edge and watch it swim away. He grins at me and starts singing the chorus of “Fishin’ in the Dark.” A song that makes us both feel better in a way nothing else could.
Despite the high-pitched squeak of the front door’s hinges, my parents don’t even flinch when I come in from fishing. They’rea heap of tangled arms and legs sprawled across the couch, the credits to a movie still climbing up the screen. I smile at the sight, reaching for the knitted afghan on the recliner across from them. It’s enough to drape over their laps, but the accidental brush against my mom’s arm tells me they’re warm enough.
I tiptoe up the stairs to my room, leaving the light off. I draw the curtains to the top of the window frame so the light of the moon spills over the windowsill and onto my pillow before grabbing my sketchbook and flipping to the last page.
Most of my drawings begin with an idea, but without giving this one any thought, my pencil moves in a shape the size of my closed fist. A soft line runs down the center, creating two chambers. Memories from summers we spent together come pouring back, flowing through every line, every mark, every shade, every movement. It’s as if my mind shuts off, my brain turning on autopilot.
I focus on what I love most, and when my pencil stills and I’m brought back to reality, a very confused heart stares back at me. A tear trickles down my cheek and splashes in the center, smudging the outline of their faces.
My mom said there’d be room to fill the empty spaces, but what I wish I’d asked her that day on my bed is if a heart can love two people at once.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
NOW
We sway for a full two songs until Reed freezes.
“What are you doing here?” he asks over my shoulder.
When I turn around, Miles is standing beside Shepard, observing the room.
“Your parents invited us,” Miles says, looking from Reed to me and the place where Reed’s hand rests on my waist.
Reed’s eyes flash to his parents who are making the rounds with their guests.
“Enjoy your night,” he says, not letting go of my hand and pulling me out toward the lit-up wraparound patio.
I look back over my shoulder to find Miles watching me, that unreadable expression I haven’t seen in weeks painted across his face.
Reed walks us to the edge of the balcony overlooking the water and leans against it.
“I don’t know why my parents invited him.”
“Maybe to be nice?” I say, trying not to sound as irritated as I feel on the inside.
“What would be nice is if there was one place in this town I could go and not find him there. But it’s Bear Lake. Everyone is everywhere all the time.”
“Why does it have to ruin your night?” I ask, trying to get him to look at me. “Look, he’s not even out here. He’s hanging out with his dad.”
Reed looks inside to see Shep and Miles engaged in a conversation with a couple of older gentlemen. His body relaxes.
As we both tip against the wrought-iron railing, I feel the energy shift between us. Maybe it’s the way he notices the chill in the air sparking goose bumps against my skin that encourages him to lean closer to me. To share his warmth.
