I like the moments like this, when we just enjoy each other’s company. I think that we’ve both been in silence for so long that there’s not really a need to fill it unless we want to.
I like that about him; we’re a lot alike when it comes to our loneliness. But I don’t want to think about that right now.
His thumb runs over the backs of my hands, gently over my knuckles, back and forth.
“Sloane!”
When my name is called, Beckett gets up to go grab our stuff.
He comes back and sits down. I open the paper bag and hand him his sandwich before taking mine. I take a drink as well and take a sip.
“Mmmm, that’s good,” I say, taking another sip.
He doesn’t say a word, and we eat our food in silence.
“I’m so full. I don’t think that I can possibly take another bite,” I complain, slouching in the seat. He looks down at my 3/4 eaten sandwich before taking it from me and finishing the rest of it.
“Thank you, kind sir. Whatever would I do if I didn’t have my own personal garbage disposal?” I tease as we collect our trash so that we can leave.
“You’d be a very wasteful person, and I’m not sure the world would survive with the excess trash that you would provide.”
Sassy man.
I don’t say anything to his remark and grab my mostly empty drink and finish the rest of it, before throwing it away.
“Thanks for lunch, Beck, it was very good,” I say, lacing our fingers together as we walk back out to the bike.
“You’re welcome.”
He helps me put my helmet back on. He pulls his on as well, before pulling me into his arms for like the hundredth time. Not that I mind, I actually really love his hugs.
“Have I told you thank you?” he asks, and it makes me laugh.
“Mmm, no, maybe you should say it again so I know. I don’t think I heard you the first twenty times,” I tease, and he rolls his eyes at me before flicking my visor closed.
I used to just drive around the mountains for hours when I just needed to get away. I’d blast loud music and scream songs at the top of my lungs until my voice was hoarse.
It was very therapeutic.
The air is so much fresher up here than in the city. So crisp, and it tastes like air, not garbage, or young adult sweat.
I love the state of Georgia; it’s always warm, the humidity sucks, but the state is pretty. I think that if I could, I would move back there, but I wouldn’t want to do it alone.
I have a fallback plan. If all this goes to shit, I can move anywhere in the world. I have social media, and I can now do all my schoolwork online. My life won’t be over.
I may have been able to loosen him up over the summer. He doesn’t work until midnight. He comes home before six now.Sometimes he’ll take more days than just Sunday off, but he still has his life. His structure. I’m willing to mold my life around his, for now. I have nowhere I need to be. I don’t have a final destination in mind, but I do know that this right here, with him, feels right.
Being in his arms is the safest I have ever felt in my life.
Maybe I should have talked to him before I decided to uproot my life and drop it straight into his lap. Maybe it was rushed, and I should have thought about it for a while longer. Maybe I should have made us do the long distance to see if that was even an option.
But I don’t want to waste any more of my life on a what-if.
What if one day I make friends?
What if I lose weight?
What if no one likes me?
