Page 9 of The Other Side of Apart
“She’s that good?” The girl tilts her head to the other side.
“There’s not even a word.”
“Wow. Lucky her and all that.” She stares at me a little too long for comfort before moving away. “I’ll go tell her you’re here, Lover Boy.”
“Perfect. Thanks.”
She leaves the room, and I ease into a plastic chair, grateful to be done with that conversation and her visual x-ray.
The break room smells like grease with a dash of shrimp, and I lean my elbows on my knees, putting my head in my hands. I rehearse what I’m gonna say to Mei. Wonder what her face will look like when she sees me. Lately, her eyes have been completely locked down, and when I catch them and try to read the thoughts in them, they’re skittish and won’t land. I just need her to know how much I want this, but how much I don’t know how to do it. And that I’m so scared of losing her, I’ve paralyzed myself. I haven’t touched her like I want to since we got to Seattle, and it takes way too long to go to sleep every night because all I wanna do is climb in bed with her. I usually let myself think about that until the fear creeps in and sends all the what-ifs sprinting around my head.
A door sweeps open at the end of the hall, and I sit up just as Mei rounds the corner into the break room and stops. “Oh. You came.” She looks tired. Or sad?
I stand. “Yeah. And I grabbed takeout on my way. Thought maybe we could go talk. If you want to.”
She watches me, pressing her lips together, her fingers fidgeting with the belt loop on her black uniform pants. “Give me five minutes?”
I nod, watching her for any signs of the old us. They showed up on the beach during the storm, then in the hut, but the adrenaline and hormones drowned everything we couldn’t say. “Yeah.” I nod again. “I’ll just go wait outside.”
She disappears down the hallway. Now that we’ve acknowledged the tension and weirdness, it’s barging into every second, and I don’t know how we’re gonna beat it.
I head for the back door. Mei and I have to figure this out tonight. I’ll tell her everything I’ve been holding back. It’s gotta come out before it breaks us again.
I pull up to the waterfront park, shut off the motorcycle engine, and take off my helmet. Mei’s already off the bike, facing the water as she unbuckles her own helmet. When she pulls it off, I glance at her out of the corner of my eye, still not sure how to start this conversation. I wish she could just see it all in my eyes. We’d be done and back to normal.
I pop the seat and pull out the Thai food I picked up along with the sheet I took off my bed. If all goes as I hope it does, I won’t need it or the top bunk anymore.
Mei hangs her helmet on the handlebar, and I catch her eye, hold out my hand. She looks at it and takes it, biting her lip. But she still won’t look at me, and my stomach drops. Maybe she doesn’t wanna talk. Maybe she’ll say something I really don’t wanna hear. Maybe she’s done waiting for me to figure myself out. Maybe I’ve kept my feelings too close, and she can’t feel anything from my direction. Or she’s got a completely different direction in mind. Or maybe?—
“Where do you want to go?” Her voice is light and timid like she’s barely holding onto it as she scans the area for a place to sit.
“Back to normal.”
She looks up at me.
“I don’t care where we go tonight, I just want things between us to go back to normal,” I say. “So if you know where that is and how to get there, let’s go there.”
“Marcus.” She closes her eyes, shaking her head. “I’m sorry for what I said in my texts. I just don’t know?—”
“No. I’m glad you said it. All of it. It needed to be said, and I was too afraid.”
“Of what?” She waits like she’ll pull the words from me if I don’t offer them willingly.
“To say anything.”
“What do you want to say?”
I glance around, the moment squeezing me. “Can I say it over there?” I point to a grassy spot looking out over the water.
“Sure.” She nods. Too fast. “Yeah.”
I hold onto her hand so tight, like I don’t even want air to come between our palms and risk it sweeping away any of my pathetic courage. I need all of it.
We spread the sheet out on the grass, and she sits down. I set the bag of food down, kick off my shoes, and ease down beside her, leaving enough space for another person. I lean back on my elbows, stretching my legs in front of me, and fill the space with honesty.
“What you said in your text…about me not wanting you…it’s exactly opposite of that.” I squint into the setting sun. “I want you so bad, I’m paralyzed by it. I don’t know my next move, so I’m just not making any. Last time I touched you, your reaction was nothing I ever expected and…the time before that—after Meemaw—things didn’t end well. I lost you. I’m not risking that again.”
She’s quiet for a minute, and I let the words soak in like we’re both sunbaked deserts and the words are rain, trying to find a place to sink in. I flex my feet, curling my toes. Wait.
