Page 86 of Promise Me Sunshine

I’m shook but covering it all. Covering everything. “I don’t respect anything. Except that which elicits genuine awe. Then I’m nothing but respect. I bow down in the face of genuine awe.”

“What elicits genuine awe for you?” He’s one hundred percent skepticism.

“Mmmm.” I consider the question thoroughly. Just to win. Just to vex him. “Waterfalls? Shooting stars? Men shedding the bonds of masculinity? A truly killer sax solo? Pants that actually fit? Tulips! Croissants! Fresh cherries! Mmph!”

He covers my mouth with two fingers. “I get it. Enough. Let’s be quiet now.”

Producing a book from nowhere, he reclines and is immediately the picture of someone who can entertainthemself with nothing but their own intellect. It’s irritating. In an attractive way.

I toss my head back and absorb the sunshine. The leaves shimmy and talk to one another and don’t give a fuck that winter is the grim reaper around the corner. The river babbles and smooths out every pebble. New friends shriek. Everyone loves one another in a new and special way. I’m falling but for the first time in a long time I’m not terrified of the concrete. Maybe there is no concrete. Maybe there’s just all this brilliant color in messy strokes. Leaves and sky and air and water water water, rushing by. Maybe I’ve been wrong this whole time and the entire world is not through my eyes. Maybe I’ve been trapped in a painting all along. Smeared and brilliantly applied. Every color is from the eye of someone who knows exactly what the hell they’re doing.

I’m uncontainable. I’ve just cracked the code. How to live a perfect existence: just embrace it all, every lovely/excruciating color. I’m so glad Miles is here.

I throw my arms out to the sides. “Let’s be oil paintings, you beautiful bitch!”

He lowers his book and eyes me over top of it. “It must be truly exhausting to live in your brain.”

“You have no idea.” I turn and collapse onto him and throw his book as far as I can. It lands with athockon a nearby boulder.

“Hey!”

“I’ll buy you another!” I shout. “A million, if you want!”

“A million copies of the same book? Pass.” He eyes me, splayed across his bare chest, my heart racing hard against his. “What the hell is happening to you down there?”

“I talked about Lou without crying,” I say into his chest hair.

I feel his shoulders rotate; a shadow crosses my eyes andpauses. And then, there are his arms around me. He’s holding me tight. Too tight. His arms pulse against me. One, two, three tight squeezes.

“You’re doing great,” he says. I draw every single nutrient out of that statement. “But try not to be too weird in front of our new friends.”

It makes me burst out laughing. Because he’s right. You have to teaspoon out the weirdness.

“Point taken.”

“You know what you need?” he asks, his arms still tight around me and the sunlight kissing all our skin.

“What’s that?”

“Campfire,” he lists. “Hot dinner. Stars. Sleeping bag. Hard ground. Night sounds. Cool air. Everyone sleeping at once.”

“Oh.” My eyes grow round. “Yeah.Yeah.That sounds like exactly the ticket.”

He untangles us and stands up, stretching, reaching a hand down to me. “Let’s go get it.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Jeffy and I cannot be stopped. We’re annihilating. We were born to play Hearts as a team. Miles and Rica, our opposing team, went through the following stages: mild surprise they weren’t trouncing us, alarm when they continued getting walloped, resolve to serve up an ass-kicking, which led swiftly into broken and dejected spirits, and finally acceptance that they can never beat Jeffy and me. And never shall.

Jericho is the picture of elation. He can’t believe that anyone can ever beat Rica in cards. He’s been topping off everyone’s drinks and doing the Macarena.

We put the final nail in the coffin and Jeffy and I allow ourselves to give their team a proper funeral. He even sings “Amazing Grace” in their honor. I’m on the bagpipes, of course. Jericho jumps in and performs a stunning eulogy.

Rica puts Jeffy in a headlock. Miles, quiet and calculating, silently gestures me over to him.Come here,he mouths.

I shake my head.

One finger crooks at me.Come here.

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