Page 61 of The Royal Street Witch
“No,” he tensely says, and I close my mouth because Bastian rarely gets stern. “It’s not something you’ll want to see.”
“I guess there are parts of both of us we keep locked away and hidden.”
“I guess. But that’s true for everyone, not just us.” He hooks his pinky with mine and pulls me toward the door. “Now come on, we’re wasting the daylight.”
The Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk is everything Bastian told me it would be. Carnival rides with screaming teenagers, games that charge an arm and a leg and reward junk prizes. Funnel cakes and candy apples. And just down a few steps from all the excitement, the beach.
“Hold on,” Bastian says as we walk under the red Boardwalk sign. “Hold on.” He pulls out his phone and squeezes me close to him, taking a selfie of us among a row of carnival games and food stands. I inspect the picture after, my first selfie with a man I love. In my life, I’ve seen so many couples take selfies throughout the French Quarter, never sure if something like that would ever happen to me. And here I am in California, going to the beach, taking selfies.
We walk farther down the Boardwalk, the ocean running along the strip of rides. And there’s the white roller coaster—Bastian’s and Luc’s Giant Dipper.
“That’s it,” I say. “I recognize it from my vision.” Sand, the rickety sound of the train pulling to the first drop, the smell of waffle cones and the sea. It all washes over me again, the déjà vu that I’ve been somewhere that I’ve never actually been.
“Yeah,” he says and pulls a hand down his face. “The first roller coaster I ever rode with my brother.” He slides his hand down my long ponytail and pulls me into his arms and kisses me, in front of mothers pushing strollers, teenagers licking ice cream, children running toward games—he kisses me for all to see and it doesn’t matter. He can kiss me all day here and it doesn’t matter.
“Forgive me if it gets old, but thank you so much for this. I know it was supposed to be for Cassius, and I feel like an opportunist. But being here with you…it’s like I have something to look forward to again.”
I take a deep breath because his has been a long life, and I feel honored I’ve made a difference in it.
“This is the happiest I’ve ever been,” I admit, running my hands up his strong back.
“What if you had said no? Look what we would have missed out on.” There’s a twinkle in his eye, a silentI told you so.
“Let’s go.” I pull him toward The Giant Dipper.
Once the safety bar has been placed across our legs, once we sit side by side in the little brown roller coaster car in the very front row, I close my eyes. And there I’m back in Bastian’s eyes when he was just a boy. I open my eyes to Bastian’s face, which is serious for a moment, but then he turns to me, placing his hand on my knee and squeezing. Pushing his mouth next to my temple, he breathes in my hair then whispers, “The best I’ve tasted,” and I meet his eyes and agree.
“The best.” And then we are moving through a pitch-black tunnel, the rickety ride pumping through our ears, and then daylight again as we descend the first drop and it should be new to me, but I’ve been here before. There’s the sea, the people below us, and there’s the smell of sweets baking and the sound of music and a mounting of screams. How far have I come since that night in my courtyard when I found the secret to the potion, the potion that brought me here? It’s a profound moment and I don’t know if I should scream from joy or cry. Instead, I hold on to the bar in front of me and enjoy the ride.
We ride The Giant Dipper four more times, and at the end, we look at each other with a glow that pure pleasure brings.
“You are turning me into a softy,” I tell him, his arm around my shoulder as we walk down the Boardwalk.
“You can’t help but be happy here. The music and the food and the rides, come on.” He waves his hand in the air. “It’s okay to get soft.”
After we’ve been on most of the rides and I eat a funnel cake and Dippin Dots, after Bastian has won me a bright green stuffed monkey, after the sun has set, we walk down the cement steps to the beach. Bastian sits, legs outstretched , and I climb between them, leaning back into him, the ocean hard to see but easy to hear. There’s a flutter in my chest because one day down means we’re closer to going home and facing reality. But it’s far enough away for me to push it out as he drapes the blanket over my legs, pushing out the cold.
WE SPEND THE NEXT FEWdays in and out of bed, in and out of the ocean, running through the waves, warming our skin with the sunlight. Bastian has promised to only take the potion every other day, so we try to carefully plan everything out to avoid any side effects.
“Stop,” he says, digging into his shorts pocket as we sit on our beach towels. “Don’t move. I want to remember this moment forever.” He pulls out his phone, aims it at me, and moves so close, I can’t help but feel scrutinized behind its lens. I have to bring something up I saw earlier but don’t want to ruin this moment.
“Beautiful,” he says but what’s beautiful is his dark chest under the sun. His black Ray-Bans reflecting the light, his tongue running along the bottoms of his white, fangless teeth.
“I’ll keep growing older and you’ll stay young and perfect.” It’s not something we talk about, but since our commitment has solidified, it’s only right we discuss it.
“You, my baby, will stay beautiful forever. I’m not the least bit worried about it.”
“Well, I am. Where’s the sunscreen?” I laugh, but I believe him.
“You’re sun-kissed. I love it.”
There has been so much sun, my skin is turning from pale to golden, and that feeling bubbles inside of me. I see him collapsed on the floor at Nightwalkers.
“Yeah, well I don’t,” I say, pushing the memory away. “We’re supposed to loathe the sun, didn’t you get the memo?”
“I did, I did,” he says, rolling on his side, propping his head on his elbow. “But the world isn’t just black and white. It’s grey, and we can love the sun just as much as we love the darkness.”
“Not me,” I sigh. “I love the night, will always love it more than the day. It’s just who I am.” I lie back on my towel, mirroring his position.
