Beck grabs Coop’s arm. “Let’s go,” he demands, pulling him to the steps. “Don’t embarrass yourself anymore.”
Eva watches them as they walk away, I watch her. I suddenly realize my mouth is filled with saliva as I must have forgotten how to swallow. I force it down my throat, choking at the same time.
“I always liked those guys,” she makes known as they disappear from our view.
“What’d they say to you? Earlier?” I find myself asking her. “When they walked up to you?”
She’s still staring at the steps. A small smile appears on her face. “That you hired them to protect me until you could.”
It’s just Eva and I now, alone on the beach with all these empty chairs. I wonder if she can hear my heart thudding in my chest. It hurts, it’s beating so damn fast. I wonder if she knows how badly I want to pull her into my arms and not let her go. I wonder if she can feel my eyes on the back of her head, willing her to turn around and face me again.
She turns. Any normal person would stop staring, but I can’t move. My eyes are frozen to hers. Those beautiful green eyes that almost don’t look like a natural color you would see here on earth. I swear, they’re like the color of celery, but with little specks of gold mixed in. She holds the stare. We’ve always been able to do this without it being as awkward as hell. I lick my lips without even realizing what I’m doing. Her cheeks turn red, which makes me laugh a little. I’ve embarrassed her, and I love it.
I step forward. We are so close I can see the little freckles on her nose and the tiny scar under her lower lip she got from falling off a surfboard when we were thirteen. She looks older, taller, and tired, but even more beautiful than I remember, if that’s even possible.
She tilts her head to the side a little while still keeping her eyes on mine. “Did you tell them to sit with me?” she questions.
I nod my head. “I didn’t want you to be by yourself. And …”
She raises her eyebrow up at me, waiting for me to finish.
“And I didn’t want you to leave.”
She grins just a little. “Bodhi,” she then whispers, looking down at her feet. “I’m so sorry.”
She looks up at me again. It kills me how sad she looks. Like her sadness just stabbed me right in my heart.
“I know,” I say to her. “I know how much you loved her.”
Tears spill down her cheeks. Hell no. I want to reach up and wipe these tears away so damn bad. I dig my fingers into the palms of my hands so I won’t. I’m pretty sure I break through my skin. Am I allowed to touch her? God, I want to touch her.
Fuck this.
My thumbs touch her cheeks, collecting the tears as she closes her eyes. I let them linger for a few seconds. I swear she leans into the pressure of my fingers, but I reluctantly bring my hands back to my side. Her eyes lock onto mine again while she lets out an enormous sigh and sits herself on the steps.
“Your mom, she was amazing,” she says, looking up at me.
I nod my head in agreement.
“Bodhi?” her voice is so soothing. “Are you doing okay?”
No, I’m not. Every day I question how the rest of my life will play out. “I am. I will be.”
She gives me a very familiar look. One where I realize she’s fully aware I’m lying my ass off.
I grin a little. “I could be better,” is what I tell her. Eva is the only person in the world I can be honest with.
Her face looks wounded, pained, distraught. I sit down next to her. I’m not sure what to do with my arms, or my legs, or any other part of my body. Should I scoot over? Are we sitting too close together? Do I even remember how to sit? As I’m having my mental panic attack, Eva puts her head on my shoulder. My entire soul freezes. Every part of my body is now locked like an uncomfortable, torturous statue. Did she really just do that? It feels amazing. I’m not sure what to do or say next. I might have stopped breathing.
“What can I do to help?” she asks with her soft voice.
I can’t believe she’s asking me this. She’s been gone for three years and she’s suddenly here, asking me how she can help. “This,” I blurt out. “This helps.”
“I can definitely do this,” she responds, her head pushing deeper into my shoulder.
I can’t breathe, my heart is racing so damn fast. I give myself a minute for my pulse to slow down and then I say quietly, “I’ve missed this.”
She lifts her head a little to look at me. “That day …” she says, pausing before continuing. Of course I know which day she’s talking about. “I think about that day all the time,” she goes on. “Every day. Maybe even every hour. All the ways it could have been different if I had just …” she drifts off.
“She still would have ended up sick,” I say as fast as I can.
“I know,” she responds. “I know that. But I could have been there for her. And you. I should have been there for you, Bodhi. I should have been there every single day.”
Well. My heart has stopped now. I pinch my side to make sure I’m still alive.
“I hate myself for that,” she whispers.
“Don’t.” I move my body. Her head falls from my shoulder and I hear myself catch my breath with the sudden absence of her warmth, but I want her to look at me. “Don’t do that, Eva. That was three years ago. I heard your parents that day. I should have tried. I could have tried harder. I don’t know why I didn’t. I was fucking stupid. I think about that goddamn day every single hour too.”
Her eyes. I wish she’d look away now, but she’s staring right at me, into my soul. I hope she can see it and how damaged I’ve been without her. I hope she can see how much I’ve missed her.
She nods her head and whispers, “I’ve missed you so much, Bodhi.”
It’s almost as if her words immediately get carried away with the ocean breeze. She looks down at her hands and I find myself searching for her eyes.
She’s not mine. She didn’t choose me. She’s with Porter Channing.
I repeat these three sentences in my head, but I don’t want her to regret the words she just spoke. I carefully grab her chin and bring her face back up to mine. My fingers are shaking at the sensation of her skin underneath them again. In a perfect world, I would kiss the hell out of her right now. I would lean her up against the steps, wrap my hand around the back of her head, push her lips hard into mine, and make her forget every bit of sadness she’s feeling right this second. I want to do just that. I can see it playing out in my mind. It would be beautiful and perfect. I lick my lips, but quickly bite down on them.
I settle with a simple, “I’ve missed you too, Eva.”
She smiles and puts her head back on my shoulder. Our bodies relax again. They were meant to be this close. We’ve always had something. We were always so perfect together, and now, now our fingers are lingering only inches apart from one another and I can’t tell you how hard it is to not just grab her hand and place it in my own.
I just want to touch her again.
She’s not mine. She didn’t choose me. She’s with Porter Channing.
“Will you be staying in your house?” she asks me.
“Coop’s,” I answer her. “Just living there for the next year. I’m pretty sure the house will be mine when I turn eighteen. I’ll know more in a few days.”
She’s picking sand off her dress now. Brushing it back to the ground as the dress moves up a little on her legs with every hand swipe. My mind wanders to places it’s definitely wandered to before, and I have to force myself to bring it back down to reality. I have to look away from her again.
“I like knowing you’ll be with Coop and not by yourself,” she says, almost as if she’s reassuring herself that I’ll be alright.
I can feel her breathing on my neck now. We stay like that for a few more minutes, in silence, which is perfect, until I remember I have people waiting for me in Funky Pelican. A whole crowd of people, here to celebrate my mom. My pulse picks up. I don’t want to leave. I don’t wa
nt her to leave. I want her to stay by my side the whole night, the next day, every day after that. I want her in my life again. I need her in my life again. I want her hand in mine, her lips on mine, I want her sleeping next to me at night. I want to do to her, every little thing my mind has imagined us doing together these last three years.
Jesus Christ. I want to kiss her.
But I can’t tell her any of this, and I can’t kiss her. Because she’s with someone else and I refuse to put her in that situation, which makes leaving her that much harder.
She’s not mine. She didn’t choose me. She’s with Porter Channing.
It’s getting difficult to remember this.
“So …” she says, lifting her head off my shoulder, staring out into the ocean.
“So …” I say back. “Want to join me for dinner? Funky Pelican? Best grilled cheese you’ll ever eat?”
Do I sound too hopeful? Can she sense my eagerness? I’m an idiot for even asking, but I want nothing more than to walk into Funky Pelican with her and keep her with me all night. I need more time to work up the courage to tell her I need her. That I don’t want her to disappear again. I know her answer before my invitation is even out of my mouth though. She wants to, I can tell, but she’s not going to say yes.
“Sounds enticing,” she smiles. But she looks so pained as she follows with, “But I probably shouldn’t.”
I nod. I understand. I hate it, but I understand.
Wait, no. I don’t understand.
Why are we still acting like we’re fourteen and we have to listen to something stupid her parents said about us? Why can’t we be together when it’s so obvious we should be? We’re almost adults now, why are we letting other people control our lives? Why are we pretending that we can’t dive headfirst into this beautiful chemistry that is bursting from both of our bodies? I’m about to ask her when I hear her voice.
“You should go. I’m sure they’re all waiting for you.”
The moment has passed. Goddamnit, the moment has passed.
“Yeah,” is all I can reply.
I wait a minute, because I have no desire to leave, even though I know I should. Will I see her again though? This can’t be it. After three years, I can’t let this be it between Eva and I.
I need to do something.
I stand up and offer her my hand. She smiles and takes it, and finally her hand is in mine. Planned or not, it’s heaven. Pure, blissful heaven. I pull her up so she’s standing right in front of me and I lace my fingers in between hers, clinging to this simple embrace with everything I’ve got. She stands there, staring at our hands together. My long, rough fingers in between her delicate ones. I wait to see what she does, if she’ll wiggle her fingers free, but she doesn’t. She holds on tighter. She squeezes her fingers onto my hand. I know she doesn’t want to let go. This is Eva Calloway. My Eva Calloway. I can practically read her thoughts.
Screw Porter Channing.
I reach out for her other hand. She bites her lower lip but gives it to me. I then bring it up to my thumping chest. I want her to know that my heart is working overtime trying to keep up with how crazy she’s making me feel right now. She sighs and leans in as I bend my head down so she can rest her forehead on mine. Her hand stays on my chest. Her fingers push up against it like she’s trying to hold on. The feeling of her fingers grabbing onto my chest causes my legs to tremble as we stand there.
We both stay that way for an eternity. Our fingers intertwined, her hand on my heart, my hand on that hand, our foreheads touching, our mouths so close together. I keep biting my lips to keep them from moving towards hers. I’m afraid it’s too much right now, that kissing her would scare her away, so we just stay there in this moment, which isn’t nearly long enough, the two of us fitting together so perfectly. We always have, and no matter what’s happened over the last three years, it’s obvious that we always will.
I’m the first to break the silence. I need to. I need to say something to her. I bring my mouth to her ear and whisper one familiar word. “Confession,” is what I say, taking us back to our old childhood game.
She takes in her breath a little. I love hearing this noise come from her mouth. I swear she clings tighter to my chest as she waits for me to speak again.
I then say, “I should have never walked out of that hospital room, Eva. I should have forced myself back in. I should have stayed with you. Goddamnit, I should have stayed with you. I can’t breathe some days knowing that I’m not the guy you’re with right now. It kills me. Every day it kills me more. Why are you with him, Eva? Why did you disappear on me? I came over after the accident. Your dad said you didn’t want to see me. Why? Why didn’t you want to see me? Why didn’t you come back—”
I suddenly feel her hand on my mouth, as she covers it and stops me from saying anything else. I see a tear fall down her cheek and hit the sand. Maybe I shouldn’t have said so much, but once I started talking, I couldn’t stop. There’s so much I want her to hear, so much I need her to know.
She looks so upset I almost don’t think she’s going to say anything back, but then she responds with her broken voice. “Confession. I should have never let you walk out of that hospital room. I should have found a way back to you. I wanted to find a way back, so much. I still do, Bodhi. I never said I didn’t want to see you. I cried for days after you stopped by. My dad—it was all my dad.” And then she says so emotionally I think she might be admitting it out loud for the very first time, “It kills me I’m not with you right now. It always has. I should be with you, but I’m not. I want to be with you, and it’s torture knowing we aren’t together.”
Well, son of a bitch. I can’t let her leave now. I have to let her know how I feel about her. I have to tell her that we’re meant to be together and it doesn’t matter what anyone else says.
“Eva,” I whisper. I can’t get any other words to come out of my stupid mouth. Where do I even begin? How do you explain to someone how lost you’ve been without them for three years?
“Bodhi,” she sighs, and then she lets go of my hand. I feel like a part of me has gone missing. I’m not whole anymore. She looks up at me with those amazing green eyes that are filled with tears. “Don’t be a stranger, okay? I need you, Bodhi. I need you in my life. I have to go, but don’t be a stranger anymore, please,” is what she begs of me and then she turns for the stairs and leaves. She doesn’t look back.
I watch her walk away, forcing myself to stay there when all I want to do is run after her.
She’s not mine. She didn’t choose me. She’s with Porter Channing.
Although this might be what my mind is shouting at me, “I won’t. I promise. I need you too,” is what I say to no one, as I watch Eva Calloway disappear from my sight.
chapter five
Bodhi
I t’s been a few days since my mom’s memorial. Since I saw Eva. Since we had our moment on the beach. I haven’t seen her since. It’s all I can think about, but I’m not sure the right way to do this and I don’t want to screw it up. I have too much at stake now that she’s so close to being in my reach again. It’s like I can see my life unfolding right in front of me, but it’s at a fork in the road. I can either continue on this destructive path of damaging obliteration that I’ve been on, or I can get Eva back and be happy for the rest of my goddamn life.
She didn’t want to leave the beach, I could tell, but why did she leave? There’s something she’s not telling me, and I don’t know what to do. I mean, I know what I need to do. I need to get her back, but how? Should I show up at her house? Will her parents even let me down the driveway? Should I call her? Would that be too desperate? Would that scare her away? I could text her? Dammit. I don’t know what to do, and it’s eating away at my soul.
Today, I’m sitting in a lawyer’s office with Ma and Pop. The lawyer is doing his best to make this go as smoothly as possible, but I haven’t even attempted to remember his name. He’s a balding man, needs to lose fifty pounds, and looks
like the late Chris Farley with no hair. He also wears thick-rimmed glasses he keeps pushing up, followed by a very loud clearing of his throat after he turns each page in front of him. It’s annoying the shit out of me. I stare at him and wait for it every time I see he’s getting close to the end of a page. Turn, push up the glasses, clear the throat, continue.
They’re going over in fine print all the guardianship details. I almost wish I didn’t have to be here to listen to this. Every once in a while, my mind tunes in, but mostly I’ve tuned out and have resorted to tapping a pen on my leg until Ma takes it away, giving me a frustrated look. I hope we can wrap this up soon. It’s depressing, and Ma and Pop took half a day off of work to be here with me. I feel bad they voluntarily dragged themselves into my mess.
What have I learned? The house is mine when I turn eighteen and the jeep is mine now. I have a nice amount of money tucked away in a checking account that should get me through the next few years. Ma and Pop are of course my legal guardians as well. I trust them completely. I don’t need to sit here and listen to all the details of what being my guardian means, or how they have full control over everything my mom has left me until I’m an adult.
“Eva Calloway,” the lawyer says. My head jerks in his direction so fast I get whiplash. “Lenora asked that the photography equipment and cameras go to an Eva Calloway, and specific photographs that are labeled and together in her studio,” he looks up at me. “Your mother said you could get these to her?”
I nod my head. My mind tunes back out. It makes perfect sense for my mom to pass down her photography equipment to Eva. I wish I could say I have her talent, but I can barely work a disposable camera. This is good. This is really good. This gives me the reason I was searching for to show up at Eva’s door, or to at least call her. I’m almost bouncing in my seat I’m so excited. I’ll get to see Eva again without torturing myself trying to figure out how. Christmas has indeed come early.
My mind comes back down from this high when I hear a click of a pen, and another, and another. I glance up at the lawyer. He’s staring at me funny.
Confession Page 5