Page 52 of Catch the Sun

When I awoke hours later, Max was gone, but the book was left open on my desk to a specific page. An orange Post-it note was stuck underneath a sentence, underlining the quote:

“I felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery—air, mountains, trees, people. I thought, ‘This is what it is to be happy.’”

The gesture made me smile. It also made me wonder how long it took for him to find a quote he found worthy enough to highlight and leave out for me.

It had to have taken some time.

It had to have taken effort.

Max waltzes beside me now, his posture looser, arms swinging at his sides as he glances at me every few seconds while we wind in and out of distracted students.

The little smile still pulls at my lips like my favorite bookmark saving my place in a chapter I’m eager to get back to. “I didn’t mind the visits,” I admit. “Thanks for keeping me company.”

He nods. “You can return the favor by keeping me company at lunch out by the willow tree.”

The stubborn loner inside me itches to turn him down. Run away. Lock myself in a restroom stall and force down my dry turkey sandwich while I wait for the bell to ring. It’s comfortable and safe. The notion is like a knobby finger poking at my side, over and over, until it’s all I can feel.

Run.

But then Max slides his arm through mine, linking them together and tugging me closer as we move through the hallway.

He looks down at me, his expression soft. Eyes warm.

And suddenly…that becomes all I can feel.

***

I’m catching up on readingMonsterwhile I wait for Max at the clearing after school. There’s a passage toward the beginning of the book that has stayed with me since I read it:

“You need to predict without predicting.”

It was in reference to the ending of a film. If you write your movie too predictably, the viewers will make up their minds before it’s even over.

In a way, our lives are like a movie and the viewers are the people we surround ourselves with. Something tells me my movie is pretty damn predictable.

Sad girl is sad.

Sad girl moves to a new town where everyone hates her.

Sad girl succumbs to the torment and leads a sad, unremarkable life.

The end.

Perhaps my surrender when Andy threw me in the lake was a reckless attempt at a plot twist. Everyone predicted that I’d pop back up from the water and make my way to the dock. They thought I’d shake myself off and shout obscenities into the setting sun with a heaving chest and balled-up fists, and my miserable existence would carry on accordingly.

But I didn’t do any of that.

I sank.

I surprised everybody by letting myself drown.

Take that, predictability.

After all, predictability is nothing but a thief of thrill.

As I pull my feet up onto the hand-carved bench, I watch the sun splash stripes of pale light across the clearing while tree branches create dancing shadows along the patches of grass and dirt. Footsteps rustle from a few feet away, the sound of boots against crunchy sticks pulling my chin up.

Max appears at the opening seconds later, and I curse my heart for whatever the hell it just did. Some kind of weird leaping thing.