Page 54 of Deliverance

“I’m here.” Santiago croons, his skin on mine warm and familiar.

“I shouldn’t have invited him.”

“He seems cool. I’m not getting any bad vibes.”

My eyes snap open and focus on my friend’s face. “My life is fine the way it is. I don’t need to date or be in a relationship or have friends with benefits for it to be complete.” This sounds a lot like a lame excuse for not being brave enough to admit the fact that Zander Shaw has piqued my interest.

Santiago slides his hands down to my shoulders. “You’re overthinking it.”

“Wouldn’t you?”

There’s a short pause, then he drops his arms to his sides. His expression becomes tormented, brows pinched, jaw clenched. It’s the side of him I hardly see these days.

For this exercise, let’s divide into pairs.

Will you please put a blindfold over your partner's eyes.

You’ll take turns and then we’ll share our experiences with each other.

“Do you want me to tell him to get lost?” Santiago asks.

I take a step back and slack against the wall, needing support and needing to be away from the line of curious glances.

“Do you? Because I will if that’s what you want. All you have to do is say the word.”

I lift my face to the dark starless sky and stare at it for what seems like forever. Sadly, the universe has no answers for me. No signs. No warnings.

Somehow Zander Shaw wormed his way into my life and now I don’t know how to kick him out. I don’t even know whether I want to.

“I wouldn’t put you through this.” My voice is an ugly rasp.

“I can take a hit.”

I reach for Santiago’s chest and place my palm over the spot where his heart is. “You’re too handsome to be my knight in shining armor. This body is going to make you tons of money, and I have no right to ask you to bruise it for me.”

“You know what?” He beams. “I fucking love you. I really fucking do. So, I’m ready to have my nose broken over and over for you.”

I shake my head, determination and resolve washing over me. “No one’s breaking anything, Santiago. No one’s ever touching us again.”

“Where the hell are we going?” I ask Santiago as we race down the long hallway. Somewhere above, a wild electronic beat drums against the thick walls of the structure. Although I have no idea what’s behind that set of double doors up ahead, I trust my friend knows what he’s doing. After watching me spout nonsense for a good half hour, he declared that he had a solution to all my problems and dragged me to the downstairs lobby, which led us here--the mysterious escape route.

Honestly, this undertaking feels a lot like ditching but I don’t object for a number of reasons.

One: My thoughts are running rampant and I need a breather.

Two: I’m not ready to face my puppy-eyedmaybe date.

Three: Santiago has never wronged me. If he promises something, he’s going to deliver. Even if I don’t know what it is that he has in mind.

“We’re getting you medicine from your sickness,” he explains vaguely as though he just took a peek into my brain.

“I’m drunk, not sick.”

“Exactly. And I know just the thing.”

I don’t argue. I’m way past the point where I can hold a meaningful debate.

We reach the end of the corridor and Santiago pushes the door open. It swings out with a loud squeak and I stumble onto the sidewalk riddled with people, my senses instantly confused. The distant thrum of the song is swallowed by the city noise and it feels like we just crossed some magical barrier and stepped into a different world.

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