Page 33 of Undertow

-JD August 12, Part 2

6

GRAVEYARD FOR THE LIVING

“Your favorite movie can’t be a documentary!” Julia cries in mock reproach.

“Why not?” I say through a laugh.

“Because! That’s so… so… ugh.”

“Whatshouldmy favorite movie be?”

“I don’t know.” She throws her hand up in exasperation. “A cheesy action film. Superheroes? Spy thriller?Anyescapist fantasy.”

Escapist fantasy? She just outlined my entire biography.Documentariesare my escape. Real life that isn’t my nightmare.

“Okay, fine. What’s your first memory then?” she asks, shifting closer.

She’s been playing with the hem of my shorts for the last several minutes, running her finger up and down the stitching in a silent message.

I want this to be your skin.

I want to explore more than your mind.

We watch her finger cut a weak line between our fused bodies on the couch. All night we’ve inched closer and closer, magnetized by a rare oasis of authentic conversation andlaughter, all while defying the insidious truth that we’re both exploiting each other.

Because not all the saturated looks have been fake.

The heated touches.

The very real sparks snapping between us.

I’ve learned a lot about this woman, and each secret trips another alarm in my head.

You can’t do this, Shaw. You’re playing with fire. You can’t have her. You can’t have anything. You know that.

“Hey, did I lose you?”

I look over, blasted by blue eyes that know too much.Givetoo much.

“Sorry. Got lost in my head for a second.”

She likes that. I knew she would.

Better. Stay focused.

“So where did you go?”

“In my head?”

She nods, her fingers now streaking chills down my arm. “You go there a lot.”

“I like it there.”

“Must be an interesting place.”

The only place I’m safe.

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