Chapter 6
People start noticing.
That’s the third thing that goes wrong.
It starts at the coffee shop when someone asks if I know “the new church guy.” I say yes too fast. Then not enough.
Fear creeps in on the walk home. Every window feels like an eye. Every passing car feels slow.
Josh texts once. Our new faster love letters.
Are you okay?
I type and erase three responses before sending the truth.
I think people are talking. I want you to be OK.
The reply takes longer than I want.
They always do, he finally writes.
We meet at night.
Always night.
Behind the library. By the old playground. In places that feel forgotten enough to be safe.
A town of secret hiding spots. All under the heat of the summer air.
I hate sneaking. Hate feeling like something to hide.
I realize he’s better at this than I am. He knows where to stand. When to move. How to disappear.
That night we meet on the beach.
He’s waiting for me on a rug. Holding an apple. The moonlight creating a glow.
Dressed in shorts and a white shirt.
We talk about our days and he asks me about the future.
We kiss. And touch. But he feels the restraint.
I know he’s torn.
But he wants it so bad.
I respect him.
Giving him space.
But he always just leans back in.
We alternative between laying on the sand and swimming in the dark.
He takes off his pants and throws them ashore.
I remove my bra and underwear and join him.
He swims forward and stands.
Wrapping his hands around me.
Pulling me in.
I feel his whole body against mine.
My head tilts back and he carrys my weight.
Kissing my deck.
“What happens when summer ends?” I whisper.
He doesn’t answer.
