Catch the Sun

by Jennifer Hartmann

Loving and hating somebody at the same time has got to be the most exhausting thing in this world.

This is beyond emo.

Most people see right through me, but I’m pretty sure he just…sees me.

Your favorite things only matter to them if they genuinely care enough to listen and see you for who you are.

“According to everyone ever, I’m pretty off-putting.” There’s another long pause as the breeze coasts off the water and causes my hair to whip around my face. Then Max says softly, “Remove the term ‘off-putting’ and I’ll agree with you there.”

Omg

I’ve gotten glimmers. And that leads me to believe the old Ella hasn’t faded entirely.

I also had no intention of going to that bonfire. She made it better.

Like two sides of the same coin, we’ve both mastered the art of keeping the world at arm’s length, turning solitude into our shield.

Three Reasons You Should Always Swim to the Surface 1. Swimming is good exercise. It’s the reason my arms look so good. (Don’t deny it. I know you like my arms.) 2. The sun is above the surface. The sun suits you. 3. I’d miss you. —Max

My heart skitters. He brought up the topic of my brother so easily, like it wasn’t a giant, unhinged elephant in the room charging toward us.

“Sorry I got carried away. That’s not what you asked.” “It’s what I wanted to know.”

When I was younger, I felt like Jonah’s violent outbursts in my honor were respectable and brave. Now, it’s just a chilling reminder of why he’s sitting in a jail cell on death row.

He sees me and he’s seeing something that brings him awe.

“How’s your head?” “Healing.” My heart feels like it’s healing, too, but I don’t say that.

McKay brought a flask to strengthen his drink, which worries me because of our father’s history with substance abuse. I hate that he needs alcohol to have fun.

“Did you take a pretty girl?” I think of Ella dancing in my arms, looking stunning in her sunny-orange dress, her eyes and smile just as bright. “Yeah, I did.”

“I promise you, Ella Sunbury,” I lie through my teeth. “This is not a date.”

Grieving someone still alive becomes choice, instead of chance,

“We don’t need two rides, Max. Waste of gas. We can all fit.” “I want some alone time with Ella.”

“The last time someone gave me a flower, I was seven,” I say pointedly, playground magic sprinkling across my memory. “Then my dad came along and ruined everything.”

“Those are some of my favorite bands and a lot of the songs have lyrics about the sun. They make me think of you.”

I’m crying, but not because I’m sad. It’s because I finally found what I’ve been searching for. What I’ve been desperately craving for years. Peace.

And I realize it’s not the first time I’ve found it. It’s merely the first time I’ve let myself acknowledge it.

The truth is I’ve had many peaceful moments. And every single one of them has been with him.

Nothing else exists. Just this song, this boy, and this look between us.

We are two sticks tossed over a bridge, swimming side by side, floating away from it all.

She brought the brisket.

“Stay,” he says, so softly I almost don’t hear him over the howl of the wind.

“It’s our story.”

“Every time you woke up, you were afraid of me. You’d look right at me, but it was like you were looking at someone else,”

I can’t look at him without seeing his brother,

wondered if he saw Jonah when he looked at me, just like I saw McKay when I looked at him.

Dear Max, You can’t catch the sun, but there’s no shame in chasing its light. I hope this brings you light. Thank you for being mine. Give your father the best care possible. I love you. —Sunny

“I just needed to catch you one last time.”

But before I can say a word… A can of Dr Pepper comes flying at me through the wall of darkness.

“We didn’t break up, Sunny,” he murmurs back. “We just broke.”

Jeremiah fisher could never

He is not his brother. Just as I am not mine.