Page 40 of Lotus

Oliver’s voice is ragged and strained, but his words put my shattered heart right back together. “Good, because I won’t lose you again.”

We stay locked in that position for a prolonged, striking moment, my hands holding his face, his hands clamped around my wrists like he’s too scared to let me go. Eyes on eyes, breaths intermingled, souls bound and twined like they were designed that way.

I break the tether by leaning back on my heels and letting my fingers slide down his face, then his chest, until they’re resting on his thighs. He releases my wrists. “I’d like to take you somewhere. Would that be okay?”

At first, I think he’s going to decline, and I’ll understand his hesitation, his resistance, his implicit fear. I’ll understand his desire for reclusion while he battles his demons in the comfort of his own room.

But he surprises me by standing instead, offering me his outstretched palm—a gesture of acceptance. A token of trust.

I take it, rising to my feet with a pacified smile, and we sneak out of the house, hand-in-hand.

Oliver and I sit atop the grassy ravine overlooking a lake, watching the sky ignite with an array of colors that reflect off the rippling water.

But that’s not as captivating as the way the colors reflect in Oliver’s eyes as he stares in cautious wonder.

I dragged him up the hill, both of us huffing and puffing, almost choking on our laughter. It’s a tall hill, adjacent to an old, vacant playground, and it’s one that I’m all too familiar with. Every year on the Fourth of July, once I became old enough to venture out on my own, I’d trek the short walk to this hill and watch the fireworks alone. I’d think of Oliver. I’d imagine him watching the very same display, somewhere safe and warm.

I’d pretend he was thinking of me, too.

The magic of this moment, of watching fireworks with the boy who’s taken up the biggest piece of my heart, here on our secret hill we used to lie on side-by-side, takes my breath away. I assume the look in my eyes, as I gaze upon the boy-turned-man on my left, is astonishingly similar to the look in Oliver’s eyes as he takes in the fireworks overhead. He’s squeezing my hand so tight my fingers feel tingly, but I can’t seem to care.

I know he’s anxious.

And I know he’s trying so hard not to be.

Leaning into him, I rest my temple on his broad shoulder, sighing deep. “I’m scared of spiders. Like, petrified,” I mutter against his arm. “It’s this irrational, stereotypical fear, but it’s real. And it’s powerful.” A resounding crack makes Oliver jump, and I smoosh my cheek further into him. “One day, I spotted a huge garden spider outside near the side of my house. It was weaving a web. My instincts told me to scream or run, but somehow, I found an ounce of courage and stood there, watching. I watched this spider weave together the most intricate, breathtaking web I’ve ever seen. It amazed me.”

Oliver pulls his attention from the fireworks to glance down at me. His breath moves the hairs on my head, as if they are caught in a delicate breeze. “It must have been beautiful.”

“It was.” My head bobs, brushing along his shirt sleeve, and I lift my chin, finding his eyes. “There is beauty to be found everywhere… even in the things that scare us.”

I see the correlation wash over him before he looks back up to the vibrant sky, heaving in a choppy breath. “Sydney, I—”

Oliver is interrupted when a blaring ringtone penetrates our moment. Confusion replaces his look of awe, and he glances around, trying to locate the source of the noise. Peering down at himself, he frowns. “It appears my pants are singing.”

Laughing, I take the liberty of sliding my fingers into his front pocket, pulling out his cell phone. “Something like that,” I tease, dangling it in front of him.

“Oh.” He plucks the phone from my hand with a bashful grin. “Thank you.”

Oliver holds it up to his ear and waits, but it keeps ringing.

“You’re such a goof. You have to press ‘accept’.” I’m still giggling when I swipe the phone back, noting that the caller is Gabe. I answer it myself. “Hey, asshole. Does my sister know you moved on in less than twenty-four hours?”

A beat passes, commotion stirring in the background. “Sydney? Where the fuck are you guys? The cops are here.”

“What?” I stand from the hill and begin to pace, nerves surfacing. “Did Lorna make a noise complaint again?”

Gabe sighs wearily on the other end. “No, they’re here for Oliver.”

My chest cinches as I look down at the man in question, who’s gazing up at me with an oblivious smile. “Is everything okay?” I ask Gabe.

“They found the guy, Syd. They found the bastard who took him.”

“Oh, my God. Is he alive?”

A frown creases between Oliver’s eyes as he rises to his feet. We stare at each other as Gabe replies, “No. They found him with his head bashed in.”

E L E V E N

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