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“Silas. His name was Silas.”
“It was forbidden for us to touch, but Silas had laid down with me to try to keep me warm anyway. It only happened that one night, but he saved my life.” And I never told him. I should have told him…
He hugged my arm tighter. “Don’t do that.” “Do what?” “Talk like you don’t matter. You do matter. To me.”
What did anyone at a pitiful little high school tucked in a redwood forest think they could possibly teach me? I’d been to the edge of the abyss and back. There was nothing left for me to learn but how to survive with the scars it gave me.
My life story. A story I’d been writing since I was ten years old and desperate for an outlet for the clamoring voices in my mind. Loud voices that told me to be bold and live life fully and never give a fuck what anyone thought of me. Quieter voices that whispered sinister things in my ear; that I was broken, that my mind a labyrinth that I’d never map. Writing was
Twenty yards away, the ocean crashed and retreated, and the wind was cool and bracing. Calming. An ocean, I decided, wasn’t like a lake. An ocean was alive and moving—energy flowing through it, rising up and crashing, washing against jagged, broken rock and leaving it smooth. A lake was sinister. Still. Its cold, black water suffused your every pore, and if it sucked you down, it wouldn’t leave a trace. I shivered and tried to do what Dr. Lange had always suggested—to ground myself in the present moment where the past couldn’t touch me. “It’s nice here,” I said. “Really fucking nice. Like I
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Holden didn’t reply and I didn’t look away. We couldn’t take our eyes off of each other if our lives depended on it, and for a few precious moments, I didn’t care what anyone thought. The self-consciousness fled, and we just observed each other, smiles touching our lips and something foreign unfolding in my heart.
“Let me go!” I cry out hoarsely, lips hardly forming the words. “Let me go! Let me go…” Let me go. Leave me to the water.
“What the hell is this?” he whispered. “Pop quiz,” I said. “Do you like me? Check yes or no.” “Are you fucking serious?” “Relax. It’s my phone number.” River did not, in fact, relax. His eyes widened and an actual blush crept up his muscled neck. “What the hell for?” he demanded, though his voice sounded thicker than it had a moment before. “In case you need tutoring. Say your grades start slipping and you’re in danger of being cut from the team. You call the hot new guy to help you ace the test, just in time for the big game.” River crunched the paper in a fist, and I thought he might throw
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He nodded and a silence fell that should’ve been awkward or uncomfortable, but instead I felt our friendship cement into something more solid with every passing minute. The sun began to sink, the sky bruised yet beautiful. Peaceful. “Well, aren’t we a jolly pair,” I said after a while. “Tell me something good that happened to you today, Wentz. Anything. Before I throw myself into the ocean.” He rubbed his stubbled chin, thinking. “I didn’t get suspended.” “Hey, there you go! A two-day streak.” I offered up a high-five and got a resounding smack on the palm. I hissed a breath and shook my
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The fire flared suddenly as Ronan spewed lighter fluid over the charred embers. “Is that what they stole from you in Alaska?” “What…?” “You said nothing good could come of you being with that guy. Is that what they taught you? That you’re no good?”
Lust—pure, unfiltered want—ripped through me like a wildfire. But just as potent were the thousands of emotions swirling in my chest. Instead of feeling constricted, I could breathe. Maybe for the first time in months. Years, even. Holden read all of it; a lazy, infuriating smile spreading over his lips. He lingered in that thick moment—torturing me with possibilities—then backed off, breaking the spell.
“I hate they did that to you,” I said gruffly, my throat thick. “I’d kill them…anyone who tried to do it again…” The words tumbled out of my drunken mouth. Holden’s eyes widened, that shocked expression coming over him again. As if no one had defended him before, wanting to protect him instead of hurt him.
“Shh,” Holden said. “Listen. This is our song.” Our song. Nothing was ours. There was no us. But Miller sang that if you never try, you’ll never know, and the words pierced me like arrows.
“I’m going away to Texas or maybe Alabama this summer.” “Establishing the rules, are you?” he drawled, though his voice was thick and tinged with nerves. I swallowed hard. “Nothing’s changed. Nothing can change.” “I told you,” Holden said, in front of me now. “I’ll never ask you for anything. I don’t have anything to give. Except this.” I wanted to tell him that wasn’t true, that I was the one who had nothing to offer. I shouldn’t have led us here. I should walk out, but his goddamn voice, the scent of him, his presence was overwhelming.
River stared, slightly shell-shocked at what he’d done. A small, disbelieving smile touched his lips that were still wet with our kiss. His eyes held mine intently, and there was no regret. Only a quiet exhilaration. Some part of him that had been lost was now restored. While I was breaking apart.
My pulse pounded. I could feel him all over me—in my mouth and lungs and heart—his kiss a resuscitation. He pulled me out of the lake and breathed life into me…
“You can’t be a writer and not read,” he said. “To put it in automotive terms you might appreciate, writing is driving the car and reading is refilling the tank.”
“What about you?” he managed. I shook my head, my hand working faster. “Just you.” Again, confusion flashed over his face and I sort of hated anyone who’d been here before me, taking and taking and giving nothing back.
“Whitmore?” I winced. “Christ, say it again, why don’t you? Only half the school heard you.” “Why do you care?” “Because it’s nobody’s business but his when, or how, or if he comes out.”
I stiffened. “People have been trying to fix me my entire life. It doesn’t take.” “I understand how it can feel that way, but please don’t give up on yourself. Keep trying until you get to the place where you truly understand that you deserve to be happy. Because you do.”
“They taught him that he wasn’t worth anything the way he was, and it stuck. As much as I…care about him, I can’t magically fix him. It’s not possible. But I can let him know I’m still here.”
“When you go down into the abyss,” I answered, “you come back out with something to say.”
I rose on shaking legs, part of me wanting to run away as the demons of Alaska whispered. Memories returning, one on top of the other. But now I had tools. Weapons to fight back. It had taken two years and the work wasn’t done yet—it might never be done. But when the cold reached for me with icy fingers, I remembered Silas’s kindness instead. When I shivered in that drafty cabin until I thought my bones would shatter, he’d lain on that hard floor and put his arms around me, sharing what little warmth he had. For a few moments, I’d been safe.
“I never told him,” I said in a broken whisper. “He told me he loved me, and I never said it back. Not where he could hear it.” “Go to wherever he is, and you just say it.” “Because it’s that easy.” “No, it’s scary as shit,” Silas said. “But damn, Holden. Think of what could be waiting for you on the other side.”
“I’m trying to be good for you, River. But I had to be good for myself first.”
You deserve to be loved out loud.”
“Thank you, Holden. I love it.” “Then it’s the best piece of junk I ever bought.” “When I’m done with it, it won’t look like junk.” No, the faded red paint will be gleaming, and the rusted chrome will shine again. Because that’s what he does, I think, watching River admire the car. He brings things back to life.
