by A. R. Breck
"I'm fine." I smile, even though it feels forced.
"People have been talking in school, you know? That you and Roman haven't been talking at all this week. Are you guys okay?" Roman and I are the married couple in school. People barely pass us a glance when we're together, but I guess there are still eyes on us.
I shrug. "I don't really know." Tears try to make their way to my eyes again, and I blink them away.
"Well, whatever he did, he’s an idiot. You're a catch, Luna."
"Thanks." It doesn't feel that way right now. Otherwise, why would he be leaving me?
Because at the end of the day, if he's moving to California, that'll be his home. In one year, my plan is to move to New York. I always thought our plans would align, but it couldn't have been further from the truth. We'll be in separate parts of the country in one year. The furthest we could possibly be away from each other, we will be.
Has it always been this way? Have our destinies always meant to be separate? Maybe we were never meant to be, and that makes me the saddest of all. I always thought we were soulmates. That's been our thing, him and I. How could that be true, though? If we're about to be apart, for who knows how long? Possibly forever?
A swallow down a sob and look at Bryce. He's staring at me with a sympathetic look on his face while mine turns red, my eyes water, and I hold back a gut-wrenching cry.
"He's an idiot," he says. "I'm guessing you aren't going to prom then?"
I frown. I've forgotten all about it. I got my dress, and Roman got a matching tux. That must be out of the cards now. "Probably not."
"Well, if you do, maybe you could save me a dance?"
"I'll do that." I won’t. Without Roman, I won’t be going at all.
I don’t say that, though, because even though the thought of dancing in the arms of another man is nearly crippling, maybe this is how it's meant to be.
Us apart.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ROMAN
I sit on my bed, my foot bobbing with an empty bag in front of me. So much to do in the next week and a half, yet I can't find it in me to pack, or do any of the necessary things I'm supposed to do before I move across the country.
The only thing on my mind is her.
She's been avoiding me.
I don't know what to do, and it's killing me inside. My parents know this, her parents know this, my friends know this.
I don't want to leave her. My insides feel like they're tearing in two at the thought of being in a different state than her. But I have no other choice.
Everyone tells me to take the chance. That if it's meant to be, it's meant to be.
But how can something be right when it feels so damn wrong?
How am I supposed to leave when every bone in my body is aching to stay?
I let her be the first day, knowing that she might need a little bit of space. The second day I searched her out, and her mom said she wasn't feeling well. The pity on her face when she told me made it clear that we all realized she was lying.
I tried talking to her in school yesterday, but she fled my presence every chance I got. I could have held her down, shouted at her to listen to me. Forced her to understand. But that's not her, and that's not us.
We aren't angry with each other. We're seamless. And now things are messy, and it feels so fucking wrong.
Staring at my empty bag and guitar case sitting on the floor, I shake my head in disgust. If I know one thing, it's that I can't leave with us like this. I have to make it right, otherwise I refuse to go. Everyone will have to get over it.
I grab my keys from my nightstand, knowing exactly where she's at right now.
She's dancing.
I ignore my mom and dad in the kitchen and head outside. The sound of the birds and frogs oddly loud this time of day. They're usually their loudest in the early morning hours, or late at night when the sun goes down. Them being loud right now makes me think they're yelling at me. Telling me I'm a stupid fucking idiot who doesn't know what he's doing.
They would be right.
I hop into my car and back out of the driveway. Luna's mom is on her knees in front of her garden pulling weeds. She looks up when she hears my car, wiping her forehead with the back of her glove. It makes a brown streak of dirt mark her forehead, but it's the look on her face that catches my attention.
She's sad.
She gives me an understanding look, like she knows exactly where I'm going. Turning back to her plants, I take that as approval to make this right.
Our two families have combined into one. If something is wrong with one of us, our entire group is in dysfunction.
I need to make this right.
I fly down the road, my windows down as my brown hair blows in the wind. My arm hangs out the window, feeling the hot breeze slap against my skin.
The sun is setting, which means Luna will be done dancing any time.
But, what if she's not there?
That makes me speed up a bit, and my wheels screech on the road as I break to turn right toward town. I see Luna instantly, standing outside the studio with her ballet slippers clutched in her palm. She's talking to someone, and I abruptly turn into the first parking spot I see and hop out of the vehicle.
It's a guy.
I notice it's one of the fuckers from school, Bryce. He and every other guy in school has had a thing for Luna for as long as I can remember. She doesn't notice these things, too focused on her friends and me and dance. But I notice. I see how their eyes stray toward her as she walks past. I see how their eyes linger too long, and how they're all always willing to help her at the drop of a hat. It doesn't matter what it is; they all want to befriend her. Boys and girls alike.
I slam my door shut roughly, the entire car shaking from the force. It snaps Luna and Bryce from their conversation. Luna's eyes widen in surprise, then lower in sadness. It makes me falter in my step, and I want to fall to my knees right there and beg her to forgive me.
Bryce looks uneasy, and I'm sure it's because my face is screwed up in anger at his presence. He shouldn't be there. What is he doing there? Is he watching her? Stalking her?
My thoughts take a dark turn, and I suddenly don't know if I can leave her alone at all.
"Luna," I say, staring at her and trying to convey my thoughts once I reach her. She can't catch my eyes, her own averted as she looks down at her bare feet.
"Roman." Her voice is broken as she speaks to me, and I want to stick my hand in her chest and rub her heart well again.
I can't see her face well, but from what I can see of her, I notice her cheeks are red, the skin underneath her eyes a little swollen. Like she's been crying.
I scowl, looking up at Bryce. "What did you do to her?" I step up to him, towering over him like I do everyone in school.
"Nothing." He looks at me in irritation, like I'm ruining their moment.
Fuck off.
I point at Luna. "Then why the fuck is she crying? What the hell did you do to her, huh?" My hands land on his chest, and I push him. Because I'm pissed. At him and myself. But mostly because I just want him to step the fuck away from her.
"Roman!" Luna shouts at me. She grabs my arm, her nails digging into my skin as she pulls me away, scratching me in the process.
"Stay away from her," I growl at him, standing down because I'd rather have Luna's hands on me more than anything right now. Luna doesn't like violence. She grew up with hippy parents and is half hippy herself. Violence is the last thing she ever wants, and I know I'd just disappoint her more if I did what I wanted to do, like punch a dent right into his ugly face.
Bryce shakes his head at me, like he's embarrassed and angry at my actions. His eyes glide to Luna. I follow his eyes, stepping right in his line of sight so he can't see her. "I'll see you, Luna. Maybe at prom?"
I laugh, a bitter bark ripping from my throat at the words. "No, you fucking won’t."
Luna's fingernails dig into my skin, breaking the first layers as her rag
e takes hold.
"Roman, you're a fucking asshole." Her head tilts over my shoulder, "Maybe you will, Bryce. Talk to you later."
I can feel my face heat, my cheeks warming as fury boils through my entire body. "Maybe? Maybe? Are you fucking kidding me, Luna? Maybe you'll see him at prom?" I rip my arm from her hold, seeing little moon crescents from her nails, blood dolloping on a few of them. "Who are you right now?"
She scowls at me, pure anger in her gray eyes. "Who am I? Who are you, Roman Hall? How could you make such a life-changing decision without talking with me about it first? Do you know what that's done to me? Do you know how I've been feeling these past couple of days?" Tears flood her eyes again, streaming down her cheeks.
My hand raises, ready to wipe the wetness, but she shakes her head, stepping back and out of my reach. "No. You don't get that right. Not now."
"Luna, I made a mistake. I'll stay. I won't go. Please, I just can't have you mad at me."
"No!" She swipes her hand through the air. "I don't want you to stay. This is your dream, Roman. You'd never forgive me. I'd never forgive myself. I just wanted you to talk to me. I just… what about us?" Her voice drops, sadness dripping from each letter like rainwater dropping from a petal. Slow. Tortured.
She's broken.
I step up to her, and this time she lets me. I grab her shaky hands, trembling with the same fear as I have. Of us losing each other. Forever.
I can't let that happen.
"Do you want me to stay?" I ask her honestly. Because I would. At the end of the day, she is the most important person in my life. If she wants me to stay here, I would in a heartbeat. Fuck the record and fuck my friends.
Her body loses its tension. "No. I want you to go. This is what you were meant to do."
"Come with me," I plead. "Please. Just come with me. That way we can still be together."
Her eyebrows furrow, her toes curling against the cement as surprise rocks her body. "What? How?"
"Just do it. Come with me. You can finish school later. Or not finish at all. Or, hell, have your mom homeschool you, for all I care. It doesn't matter to me. As long as you’re with me, right? Now and always?"
"Now and always…" She bites her lip, the skin around her teeth turning white from force. Her eyes water again, and this time I reach my hand out, landing it against her cheek to catch the tear before it can fall. "I can't," she says on a shaky breath.
"Why not?" Panic seizes me, and I grab her hands again and press my fingers into her nails, turning the light pink of her fingers a ghostly white.
"Because your dream is music. My dream is dance. I can't give that up. I have practice. I have my family. I have Julliard, Roman. You are meant to play songs for the world. I'm meant to dance for the world. Maybe our dreams lead us on different paths, after all."
I pull her close, until her leotard-covered chest brushes against my shirt. She smells of sweat. She smells of sadness. So, so much sadness. "No. One year, Luna. In one year, I'll move to New York with you. We'll get a place, and you can go to Julliard. I might have to tour, but I'll be home with you as much as I can. We'll be together. In one year, Luna. Don't give up on me."
She cries, her chest shaking against mine, vibrating down to my veins. My blood stops pumping as I stare at her. As I watch her translucent tears float down her cheeks. They hit her lips, and she licks them away. "One year, Roman. One painful year. But you have to promise you'll write to me and call me at least once a week."
I squeeze her to me. "I promise, baby. I'll promise you anything."
"One year," she murmurs against my lips.
"One year," I echo, sealing her lips to mine.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
LUNA
My bed feels soft beneath my hands as I run my fingers over the quilt. My mom made it for me last year, the different patches made from soft squared patterns. It's so my mom, and my mood right now makes me want to curl over and burrow my face in the fabric, letting its softness dry my tears.
My baby pink dress floats around me like a princess gown. It reminds me of my leotard, the color such a soft and feminine pink. The bottom half of my dress is a tulle, making me feel like a princess with the many layers. It poufs around my waist, and I press down on it, only for the fabric to fluff back up.
The top half of my dress is a soft pink satin that hugs my curves with its small trim. It's strapless, silky smooth and bunched on the side.
I look beautiful, even though I feel anything but. My heart is breaking. I can feel the small crack starting at the top, slowly shredding down the rest of my heart. It hurts to breathe. It hurts to be awake. It hurts to talk. Everything aches, a sharp pain that burrows deeply within my soul. I don’t want tonight to happen, because that means this will be it. It’ll be over.
Tonight, is the last night I'll spend with Roman for an entire year. Yeah, I might have a holiday here and there where he’ll be in town, but overall, tonight is the last time until he’ll be mine, only mine, for an entire year. Being away for him for an extended time is something I don’t even know how to handle. I haven’t been away from him for more than a day, maybe two, since I met him. The thought of not seeing his face, touching his skin, hurts. It hurts so fucking bad.
This last week has been filled with him getting ready for his tour. What I thought would be days of us talking and touching and spending every moment together that we possibly could has turned into a week of him making phone calls, packing, coordinating with his band, and being overall—busy.
I'm feeling alone.
Tonight is prom, and he really wanted things to be special. He rented a room at a hotel just a few towns from Shallow Lake so we could be alone. I should be excited to have this alone time with him. To be intimate with him again. But I feel like a knot that's fallen loose over time, and I only have one more tug before I fall apart.
"Knock, knock." My door opens, my mom peeking around with a soft smile on her face. "Oh, Luna, you look lovely. Look at how beautiful that dress is." Her eyes start to water, and my eyes drop back to the quilt, not able to take any sort of emotion from anyone else. I’ll fall apart. Completely.
I only have enough strength to deal with myself. And even with me, I'm barely hanging on.
"What's the matter, Luna?" She walks up to me, sitting next to me on the edge of my bed and tucking my curly hair behind my ear. Her fingers are warm as they graze my temple. She smells so warm, so comforting. Like the garden outside and a hint of a joint. I want to curl into her, burrow underneath her skin and beg for her to take the pain away.
I shrug, my throat growing tight with emotion. I don't want to cry, because I just spent the last hour perfecting my makeup. I made sure all my cries were out beforehand, but ever since I did the last swipe of mascara, my sadness has hit tenfold.
"Tell me," she urges, her fingers dropping to my bicep and giving me a small squeeze.
"I just don't want him to go," I choke out, tipping my head toward the ceiling and blinking rapidly. "I don't know how to do this without him."
She lets out a breath, a heavy sigh that I feel deep in my bones. I'm dead tired with exhaustion. It's like Roman was the piece that put me together. He made me motivated. He made me feel alive. Now that he's leaving, he's taking my life with him. I don't want to dance. I don't want to eat. I barely want to function. All I want to do is sleep and cry.
How will I survive this way for an entire year?
"He's not gone forever, Luna. It'll be a year and then you guys will figure it out. You should focus on what's important. What's right in front of you. You haven't worked this hard in ballet for nothing. You should put all this sadness into dance. Work it out with your moves. You're getting into Julliard one way or another, but take this time to really focus on your own dreams. Doing what you love."
Do I really love it, though?
It feels like Roman is my muse. Because I suddenly don't know if dance is what really tics in the center of my heart. Without him, my drive and motivatio
n are just… depleted.
"It's just hard." I pull at the tulle of my gown, feeling silly crying like a baby in a princess dress.
"I know it is, baby. But time will fly, and then you'll look back and wonder why you were so sad in the first place. But right now isn't the time for this. Nora and Roman and some strange guy are outside waiting for you." She squeezes me into a hug, bringing her mouth to my ear and whispering, "Roman got a limo."
My eyes widen as I turn to look at her. "Are you serious?"
"Serious as your dad in the morning without his coffee. Let's go outside and take some pictures so you guys can go have fun tonight. Enough with the sad talk. We'll worry about that tomorrow once he's gone."
I nod, and my mom stands up, pulling me with her. She grips my fingers, pressing on my knuckles in reassurance. I feel like I’m in a fairy tale as the dress poufs around me, my white heels the final touch.
I walk out of my room, my heels clacking on the floor as I make my way out of the house. Nora and her date, Corman, are nowhere in sight. The only one I see is Roman as he stands up against the passenger-side door, his arms folded across his chest as he looks at the ground.
His look is exactly how I feel.
So incredibly lost.
I press on the small handle of my door, opening it and stepping outside. Roman hears the squeaky hinge as the door opens, snapping his head up to look at me. His jaw goes slack, and he straightens up from the limo, adjusting his suit coat as he walks up to me. He looks over my shoulder, and I can sense my mom and dad waiting. Probably with huge smiles on their faces with a camera in hand. I don't look at them, though, only keeping my focus on Roman as he steps up to me.
"Wow," he says, rubbing his jaw with his palm, "I really don't know what to say." He grabs my hand, lifting it over his head as he twirls me around. The tulle of my dress raises in the wind, floating around me before settling once I'm facing him again. "You are so damn beautiful, Luna." His voice is hoarse with his words.
I smile, my cheeks hurting from the unused muscle. "You don't look so bad yourself." And he doesn't. His hair is a little messy, his brown waves unruly, like he's run his hand through it one too many times. His black tux fits him perfectly, from the trim shoulders down to his narrowed waist. He tops it off with a pair of black shoes. Shiny and glistening against the black pavement.