Unsteady

by Peyton Corinne

“Were you watching me?” “Maybe.” “You keep catching my worst moments,” she grumbles, skating slowly. I follow her, trying not to pant like a fucking dog behind her.

She giggles into my hand, gray eyes crinkling with humor at the effect of her taunt. “Got it out of your system?” She nods, but I hold on a moment longer, desperate for the feeling of her pressed to me. I want to grab her, caress and touch every inch of her. I shouldn’t—Sadie’s my friend, if even that. But I’m in her orbit now, and she’s becoming my goddamn center of gravity. Whether she realizes it or not.

“Your parents aren’t coming?” I ask. It feels like testing a field for land mines. “We have a deal, hotshot,” she answers, refusing to look at me. “They’re busy. I can take care of the boys. Any other questions?” Thousands. Like Why are you so angry? Why do you skate like you’re on fire? Who is so bad that you listed them as DO NOT ANSWER in your phone? Are you safe? Are you okay?

“Sadie’s Songs for Reece’s Sad Demon Brain,” I read aloud, before adding, “You spelled Rhys wrong.” “Your parents spelled your name wrong on the birth certificate. Your way looks like Rise. So if anything, I fixed it.” She rolls her eyes, but her teeth clamp on to her lip a little self-consciously. “I made it last night. I… well, graphic design isn’t my major.”

“Thank you,” I offer, but it feels too insufficient. I press shuffle and chuckle a little when “No Sleep Till Brooklyn” starts blaring in my ears. Sadie skates around quickly, zigzagging along and warming up, focused like always. But when she passes me again, her eyes meet mine and she mouths along with the words playing through our headphones. A laugh rumbles in my chest. I want to stay just like this with her forever.

“So who’s the girl?” I choke on the gulp of water in my mouth, coughing repeatedly as my mother—the traitor—laughs and waits for me to regain my composure. “What are you talking about?” “Clearly there’s a girl.” My fingers dance through the condensation on my glass. “Did Dad say something?” Her eyes twinkle like I’ve confessed my love for whoever she’s imagining. “Should he have?”

That there is a girl, at least on my end, even if she’ll hold me at arm’s length forever? That’s fine; I’ll stay an arm’s distance away as long as it means she’s still near me, chasing out the shadows crowding my empty body.

It feels good to talk about Sadie, at least a little, but it’s another reminder that, no matter how often I think of her—of the way her gray eyes settle on me, of her music in my headphones after another nightmare, of the fantasy of her hips in my hands—Sadie is not really anything to me. I doubt she’d even call us friends. Meanwhile, I find myself desperate to be near her.

I cry until I can’t breathe. For a moment, while lying on Ro’s bed waiting on her, I think about trying to contact Rhys. Like something about him would make this better—which is ridiculous, considering who he is and what he’s dealing with himself. But I can’t shake the thought.

“Do what you need to do and then come out to my car. I’ll go wait there.” And without thinking, I drop a kiss to her forehead and pick up my gear bag, turning to leave the room before I can consider how ridiculous that move might have been.

“You okay?” Rhys nods. After sitting up, he takes a few gulps of his water. “Yeah. But just a fair warning, I will take you up on that. I love breakfast food.” “I thought you liked savory over sweet.” “I like anything when it comes to you,” he confesses, and my heart clenches.

I’m so tight with the swirling tension in the cabin of the car that I try to burst out of the door like a spring toy the second he gets slightly close to my cul-de-sac turnoff, pushing the door hard to open it. “Jesus Christ!” he shouts, slamming the brakes so hard the open door swings, nearly hitting me despite my grip on the handle. “God, Sadie—please don’t ever do that again.”