Page 70 of Bad at Love

“Gabe, please.”

I do as he says, knowing he won’t let it go if I don’t. I imagine a perfect life with a faceless and nameless person. I try to imagine all the things that make me happy, and wonder what that life would even look like. There’s a point I’m even smiling to myself. Could life actually be that good? But then I think about his question and that perfect image shatters.

“I’m sticking with my answer,” I say.

“Okay. Why?” he asks, not accusingly or mad. It’s pure curiosity.

“Because it was all a lie.”

“But it had been a lie the entire time. Why does the knowledge of it change the way you look at your life?”

“Because it wasn’t real. It’s like I was being tricked the whole time. It wasn’t genuine.”

“But the feelings they had for you, the things they did with you, that was all real. They loved you and showed you.”

“If they loved me, they wouldn’t have had a secret life.”

He nods and says, “I can understand that.”

“You don’t agree with me?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then what’s your answer?”

“I don’t really have one.”

“You’re kidding?” I shake my head. “You give me a hard time about—”

“I did not give you a hard time. And honestly, it’s not that I don’t have an answer, it’s just that I don’t know how to answer that question. Sometimes I agree with you, other times it wouldn’t matter. I guess it’s all circumstantial. But I was trying to make you feel better, and I don’t think I did.”

“You didn’t, but I appreciate you trying.”

“I’ll always try to cheer you up.” He gives me a goofy grin, and I smile as I duck my head.

We walk for a while in silence, the breeze cutting the humidity and the heat that’s already rolling in. We’re out early, only having got a few hours of sleep.

“We should head back. It looks like it’s going to rain,” Storm says, looking out at the ocean.

I look up, catching the dark clouds coming in.

“Probably a good idea.”

We turn to walk back to the hotel, but we’re not even close to making it before the sky opens up and it downpours. We start to run, him moving ahead of me. When he realizes I’m falling behind, he slows and takes my hand. We run together, trying to shield ourselves, but there’s no point. Nothing we do can stop us from getting drenched. Even if we had umbrellas or ponchos, the rain is too heavy and too fast. I’m already soaked to the bone. People around us are running for cover, but they’re as wet as we are and with as far to run. Maybe farther.

Storm is laughing as he leads me, the sound muffled by the rain. I start laughing too, because how ridiculous is this?

“I think we’re going the wrong way!” he calls, coming to a stop and looking around.

The rain is so heavy I can hardly see, but I look around too, trying to see the road we came down from the hotel. All I see is ocean on one side and trees on the other. People scattering, trying to find cover. Finally, I throw my hands up.

Storm laughs even harder, then pulls me down the trail where there are fewer people running about. There is a couple on the beach, about halfway from us to the ocean. They’re colorful blobs through the downpour. The man is holding her hand as she twirls in the rain, face upwards. I imagine him smiling at her and she’s laughing. It’s beautiful that they’re embracing the chaos of the rain rather than running and hiding from it.

“I’m sorry!” Storm shouts close to my ear, and I pull my gaze from the couple to look at him. Raindrops drip down his face, small ones stuck to his lashes. His hair is soaked, stuck to his forehead. And that smile…

I shake my head, smiling. “Don’t be!”

I raise my hands up and step away from the slight cover of the trees and into the rain, lifting my face up and letting the cool rain cover me.

---