Out of Nowhere (Middle of Somewhere #2)

by Roan Parrish

I do the trick again and again as more people wander over. It’s just misdirection and practice.

“Radical nursing. It was about basic home care, like sutures, remedies for the flu, how to pack wounds, bind sprains, treat infections, that kind of thing.” “Sorry, radical as in, like, hey, man, far out, or….” “Radical as in invested in a break from traditional hierarchies of knowledge and embracing modes of transmitting knowledge other than the official, sanctioned ones.”

It’s the other phrase that gets me, though. Make a life. It’s the first indication I’ve gotten of what Rafe wants. What he hopes for. How he thinks things work—like a life is something you can create rather than something that’s dumped on you.

The notion of Rafe wanting someone that badly makes me tense, like I’m running out of time for something.

“Please,” he says, and he gives me that look. I roll my eyes because it’s a combination that basically makes me incapable of not doing whatever he says.

he doesn’t respond but he keeps touching me. Small touches like you might reach a hand out to your bedside table to check that something you put down is still there.

He’s obviously sincere, but it’s kind of hard not to bristle at what’s basically a list of all the ways that I’m failing to live up to Rafe’s standards.

I know now that I’ve been waiting for this moment since I realized how much I wanted him. The moment when he figured out what a waste of time it is for him to be with me because I’m fucking nothing.

“Armor’s not dangerous. That’s for survival. It’s weapons you have to watch out for. And you—” He strokes my lips with his thumb. “It’s mostly armor, Colin. And when you’re with me, the armor falls away. Who you are without it… it’s beautiful.”