by Jamie Kain
“I guess I didn’t want to admit how I was feeling and risk us not being friends anymore.”
“Yeah.”
I blink away the tears that are no longer threatening to form a downpour. I could explain them away as being because of the wind, but I don’t need to.
“I was stupid. I mean, I don’t know what I was thinking doing anything with Tristan—”
“Never mind about him. It’s over, and I’ll kick his ass if he ever tries to touch you again.”
I smile, knowing he’s not joking but also aware that it won’t be necessary. Tristan has returned to his old self, unaware of my existence, as it should be. He is his own universe, and I don’t want or need to be a part of it anymore.
“Are you still afraid of what will happen if we are a couple and then it doesn’t work out?”
He shrugs. “Not anymore. We can just go back to being friends, right? It’s not impossible.”
“But what if we hate each other?”
“We’ve gotten past me hating you before.”
I smile, remembering with a pang how awful it felt to have him angry at me. There will be more moments like that if we become more than friends.
But then, there is no if. It’s happened, whether we meant for it to or not, and now there’s only the chance to try to see what happens next.
I take his left hand and hold it between my hands, warming it and noticing the way his long, slender fingers brush against my wrist again.
“You’re the first person I’ve ever said that love thing to, you know.”
“The first guy you’ve ever loved? Or just the first one you’ve told?”
“The first guy I’ve ever loved, of course.”
“I know. I just wanted to hear you say it.”
He leans in close again, so I can feel his breath on my cheek. “The feeling is mutual.”
For the first time since Sarah died, I know she is with me. Not in that cliché watching-over-me-on-a-cloud kind of with me, but with me in this feeling that washes over me. She is everything I have ever known about love, and she’s taught me how to know this feeling now.
Picking up the tiny crab shell, I cradle it in my hand for a moment, then crawl out of the tepee. When I reach the water’s edge, I say good-bye, and I toss it into the fathomless, blue ocean.