Keepsake (True North, #3)

by Sarina Bowen

She looked vivid, as if God had painted her features with bolder paints than he used on the rest of the world.

“Witness the power of this fully operational battle station!” Griff always made me smile. “Are you ever going to outgrow the Star Wars quotes?” “Nope!” He gave me a cheerful wink, then swung the door wide.

The sweep of her skin against mine was at once familiar and electrifying. Whenever she touched me, I felt as if I’d loved her my whole life.

“Zach,” Lark whispered. The bed moved as she lay down again, too. “Is it egotistical of me to ask whether I’ve ever made it into one of your best dreams?” In Leviticus, it says, “You shall not lie to one another.” The temptation was strong. But I spoke the truth. “They’re all about you.”

“Everyone has a time when they need a lot more than they can give. It doesn’t matter how much you hate it. It’s just true.”

“I can handle it, Lark. Just lean on me. I’ll be your Apostate Farm.”

It had taken me until now to realize that I’d never been given a speaking role in this drama. I was merely a walk-on, and there was nothing at all I could do about it.

“Every time you confront the things that scare you, it’s a step back to feeling like yourself again. Right now it feels like you spend all day talking about your sorrow. But it won’t always feel like that. Every time we stare it in the face, it becomes a little more banal. Pretty soon you’ll bump into your sorrow on the street, and just give it a little wave. It will still be familiar, but not so startling.” “I’m going to kick it in the shins.” “Have at it,” Dr. Becky said with a smile.

I think I’d managed to burn through all our mutual terror already. We’d moved on to a place where the worst had already happened, and all there was to do now was pick up the pieces.

Sometimes the end of a stage in your life doesn’t announce itself with trumpets or fireworks. Sometimes it just seeps in, like the smell of snow on the air as fall gives way to winter.

Lark: You got a phone??? I love the selfie. Zach: I did. I’ve joined the 21st century. Lark: Does this mean you’ll send me a dick pic later? Zach: Let’s not get carried away.