Page 21 of Feel Me

I brace myself for her to argue further. I fully expect it. Olivia surprises me, though, when she whispers quietly, “Okay, Lake.”

Okay? Damn. I didn’t expect it, but I’m not going to give her time to second-guess herself. “Wait here,” I tell her. Then, I get up and walk quickly to the small office. After pushing some buttons on the stereo in there, I head back just as the sounds of Tom Petty begin playing on the speaker system. When I make it back to Olivia, I stand by her seat and hold out my hand. “May I have this dance?”

“Dance?” she squeaks.

I grin. “Well, it’s something I always wanted to know if I could do, but never tried. I figure that if I’m going to make a fool of myself, it’d be safer to do it with a friend. Since you’re the only one I have …” I shrug, ignoring how weird it feels to hold my hand out and Olivia not putting hers in it.

“What if you step on my toes?” she asks with a slight smile.

I pretend not to notice the way her hand trembles in mine as she finally takes pity on me. “I’ll pay the doctor's bill,” I joke, my voice hoarser than normal. We begin dancing, although it’s more swaying than anything else. I breathe in her scent of vanilla and coconut. It seems to soothe my nerves easily. I fight the urge to pull her completely against my body. Olivia is tense in my arms, but she’s not pulling away, and I consider that a small victory.

“Lake?”

“Yeah?” I ask quietly.

“Is your name really Lake?”

“It is now,” I reply.

“Well, it’s a nice name.”

“Thanks, Livy.”

I don’t tell her that tonight is the first night that I liked the name, and it’s all because she used it. I don’t tell her I’m confused because I can’t explain why I’m so drawn to her, or how it feels like I’ve been waiting for her from the moment I woke up. No, I lied out of my ass when I mentioned friends. I wanted to dance with her because I wanted her in my arms. I don’t tell her that I’m scared tonight will end and I’ll wake up in the morning and none of this happened. Instead, I close my eyes, and as Tom sings about good girls and bad boys, I hum along. When he wails that he’s free fallin’ over and over, I understand, because I’m doing the same … for Olivia.

13

IF WISHES WERE HORSES

OLIVIA

Tonight was one of the best nights that I can remember in a very long time. It was simultaneously the worst. I had such a good time with Lake. Maybe it’s because we’ve both had a history of pain and emptiness. I don’t know. It’s just that the conversation was easy—even the heavy stuff. The silences—when they came—were easy. After we got past the heavy conversations about our pasts, nothing felt strained at all. It even felt normal dancing with him. A small voice inside my head admitted that I liked being in Lake’s arms, but I chose to ignore it.

I wish I were normal. I’m not exactly sure what that saying is about wishes and horses, but the gist is wishes are useless. It doesn’t affect reality.

I push the thoughts aside and decide to take a shower before I go to bed. It has been hours since Lake dropped me off. I should already be asleep because I have to work tomorrow. I’m too keyed up. Hopefully, a shower will help quiet the voices in my head.

It doesn’t take long to get the shower done. I’d like to soak in the bath, but it’s late, so time is not on my side. The work at the campground is relatively mindless and easy. Still, it wouldn’t be good to fall asleep while on the job. Carson and his brothers have been so good to me. I won’t do something like that. I want to work hard for them. I owe more than I could ever express.

After slipping on one of Bear’s old tees that Cross gave me, I put my favorite lotion on. The smell of coconut permeates the air and makes me smile. It was Bear’s favorite scent. When we first met, we always promised that one day we’d have a house on the beach and spend our days lazing in the sun and making love under the moon. Neither of us believed it would happen, but the dream was something that kept us going. The memory is bittersweet now. Just like the rest of them.

I was hoping the shower would calm my inner thoughts. It didn’t. I find myself walking over to my window and looking up at the stars.

“Bear, I miss you. Would you be upset with me for dancing with Lake tonight? I feel so guilty. I enjoyed it, which makes me worry I’m betraying you. And there were times all night that I was wishing that you were him. I wanted to be there with you, and I know that’s not fair to Lake, even if we are just friends. I feel like a horrible person. I miss you.”

I close my eyes and let the silent tears fall. I know better than to bottle them up. That’s not healthy for me, and I’d rather not have a complete meltdown. If I do that and Winnie or Cross finds out … I shudder to think what they’d do to be honest. I finally turn out all the lights except for a lamp. Then, I walk to the bedroom. It’s dark except for the bottom part of my bedside lamp. The top is a regular lamp, but the middle is a globe that can be turned on by itself, bathing the room in a soft, yellowish glow that’s relaxing and pale enough that it doesn’t keep me from sleeping. It helps to have it on. I don’t keep rooms dark anymore. Darkness hides monsters. Darkness leaves me disoriented when I wake up from the nightmares. When that happens, I turn into a basket case quickly.

I push the thoughts away. I climb into bed and pull the covers up. I turn onto my side and look at the two framed photos on my nightstand. One is of me and Dad. I smile at it because it was before he became so sick. The second photo is of me and Bear at the community fundraiser years ago. It was when we reconnected and began having lunch or dinner together at Subway. Sunny took it of the two of us, and in the photo, I’m staring up at Bear with stars in my eyes. I close my eyes and think back to that day. I can still feel his arm around my back, his hand stretched over my hip. His lips pressed against the top of my head as the scent of tobacco and his cologne enveloped me. I picture the lazy smile on his lips when he looked down at me. “I love you,” I whisper, the words slurred as sleep tries to claim me.

I smile as I let it, imagining Bear smiling down at me, his fingers combing through my hair. Just before I let go completely, Bear’s face morphs into Lake’s. I open my mouth, begging him not to leave. He gives me a sad smile and stays, but I can tell he’s not happy.

Does he want to leave me?

Everything fades to black, and I let sleep claim me. I’m afraid to call him back and have him answer the question.

14

STANDING WATCH