The Infinity Between Us

by N.S. Perkins

My laughter dies down with a long, tired sigh. It’s true; he’s not a boy anymore. He’s a man. More man than any of the guys I’ve been with.

“What? What about that guy with the long hair? You didn’t live together at one point?” “Has someone stalked my social media profiles?” Eyebrows high on his forehead, he asks, “You haven’t?” I so have. When I don’t answer, he says, “So, why didn’t it work with that guy? He seemed to gush about you all over the internet.” I roll my eyes. “A little too gushy. And overbearing.” And he was really bad in bed, but that’s not something I’ll share with Will, today or ever.

Will licks his lips. “I’m glad you aren’t with any of these tools anymore.” My heart stutters before he adds, “You deserve better than them. Better than all of them.”

Halfway through the movie, I find myself thinking this is so much better than even the most perfect ice-cream date or the sexiest kiss I could’ve received. It’s also the moment I think, Shit, I’m in real trouble now.

“This is nothing big, Violet. Just two people surfing at the same time.” His jaw shifts back and forth once the words are out. Right. Just two people surfing. I guess it could be good for the both of us to get out of the house.

rough, to say the least,” Will says beside me, voice low and soft, as if he thinks he might scare me off. “But the third one? It was a pure nightmare.” “What happened?” I ask before I can think about whether or not I want to know the answer. When he takes a moment to talk, I know I probably should’ve shut the hell up. “My parents split up.”

I inhale sharply, so fast I think I might choke from it. But I don’t. I survive this moment and the next one and the next one, no matter how much it feels like I’m dying on the inside. All of this. All for nothing. Eyes closed, I keep breathing slowly, letting the warmth of the sun on my skin soothe my raging heart. Will doesn’t say anything, like he knows I need this time-out. We’re both aware of what this separation means, and what we’ve sacrificed—or more like what he’s sacrificed—for it not to happen.

“Anyway, it was really hard, and I was…” He lets his right hand float on top of the water. “I couldn’t keep going. It was hard enough to just survive, let alone practice twenty hours a week on top of four classes per semester.” His fingers create ripples between us, and I stare at them. “I ended up going to therapy, and I was medicated for a long time. I got through it, but by then, I wasn’t on the team anymore and I didn’t feel like I could handle that kind of pressure anyway.”

“Will’s lucky. At least he went back to his normal life.” When I couldn’t fall asleep because I could hear Dad sobbing in his room at the end of the hall, I was thinking, “At least he still has his perfect little family.”

“Because I’m better now, and I can see that the positives outweigh the negatives. It’s…” He exhales, licks his lips. “It’s hard, living in constant anger and regret.” His eyes narrow in on me. “But it’s possible to get out of it. To choose to focus on the good parts. To choose not to give up.”

“How many people have you had shex wish?” The usual Violet is nowhere to be found. I ask the question with a straight face, not even hiding behind a pillow while asking my best friend about his sex life. It’s something I’ve always wanted to know, and now that I see a light blush covering his cheeks, I’m even more glad I asked. “Do you really think it’s a good idea for us to be talking about this?”

“How many people have you had sex with?” “Zero.” I lift my hand and make a big O with my fist. “I’m ash pure ash a baby lamb.” I giggle. “Although I’ve tried stuff before, but jush by myshelf.” I giggle, not sure why. I’m sure I wouldn’t want to have this conversation normally, but now it feels awesome. Above me, Will’s Adam’s apple bobs once, twice. Then, in a husky voice, he asks, “And who do you think about when you touch yourself?”

“Whah about you? Who do you think about when you touch yourshelf?” He doesn’t answer right away, and I feel sleep dragging me down. It’s not a battle I can win, no matter how hard I fight it, especially when he starts dragging his fingers softly through my hair. But right before I’m taken away, I vaguely hear his answer. “You. I think about you.”

“This thing contains so many answers I never got.” “Violet…” He doesn’t finish his sentence, my name only rolling from his tongue like a plea. “I never got those answers.” Heart in my throat, I drag my eyes up to his. “Maybe you did, but I didn’t, and it’s been eating me up inside for years.”

Still, I look at the phone and feel a little envious. This tiny metal thing knows everything. Why my mom did what she did. What she might’ve been thinking before she died. What truly happened in the days, weeks, and even years before it happened. I could plug it into the wall, and in a few minutes, I could know everything, once and for all.

“You’re right, I don’t. I haven’t lost a parent, but I know what it feels like to be lied to by someone you thought would never do anything like that.”

“And what do you want me to say? Huh? What part of what you missed would you like me to tell you?” He flinches but lets me continue. “That I never knew how to grieve for her? That I wished I could think of nice memories I had of her, but that the mess that surrounded her death made it impossible?” The phone digs into the skin of my hands from how strongly I hold it. “That sometimes, when I’d think of her, I wished she could come back just so I could punch her in the face for how bad she hurt me? Hurt us?” My voice cracks over the last word, just as a tear escapes my eye. I wipe it fast with the back of my hand. “Or would you rather I tell you about the other times when I’d be so sad that I couldn’t talk, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, because what was the point of living when the person who loved me the most was gone?” The last words come out as barely more than whispers. More tears stream down my face, faster than I can hold them in. “Is that what you want to hear?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs. “Please,” I beg as I hit his torso again, voice weaker than ever before. “Please don’t do this.” “Shh. It’s okay.” One of his hands cups the back of my head. “You’re okay. I got you.” And that’s the moment everything inside me breaks.

For my dad, who lost the one person who was supposed to be by his side forever. For my brothers, who were so young when Mom died and who were probably scarred by it. And for myself, who’s so broken that she agreed to rely on the one who hurt her the most, despite all the times she told herself, “Never again.”

“I know it’s really not the same,” Will finally says in a low voice, “but I felt a similar way when my parents divorced and Dad moved away. And I don’t think I ever could’ve gone through that phase of my life without a lot of the help I’ve received.”

“It felt good to hear from you, even if it wasn’t directly,” he says. “And when you started helping all these people with your photo montages?” His fingers shift on my knee. “I’ve been so proud of you, even from a distance.”

Dad never lets go of her hands, and at first, she shakes her head and keeps a straight face, but eventually, she starts smiling, and even giggling like a schoolgirl. I only see her in this state, so relaxed and comfortable, when she’s with Dad. No one can make her laugh like he does. Even when he says a stupid joke that no one finds funny, we’ll hear Mom laughing at it, alone.

“Come on, Tig.” She nods her head in his direction. “You look at him like he’s your heaven on earth.” I swallow hard. “I’ve had doubts for a few years now, but this summer, it’s written all over your face.”

this should never be broken over romantic problems.”

“It doesn’t matter, anyway. We’re friends, and that’s all we’ll ever be.” Samantha huffs beside me. “Are you sure about that?” I turn to her. “Because I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen my brother more smitten than he’s been this summer.”

It’s Will’s birthday today, and something compelled me to organize something for him. I’m not exactly sure what’s behind this.

The thing is, I wanted to keep this activity a surprise, so I didn’t wish him a happy birthday this morning. And to my surprise, he didn’t bring it up. When we were younger, he would come wake me up at six in the morning for me to tell him happy birthday. Every. Single. Year. But today, he didn’t even mention it.

“I don’t understand,” he says after looking around at the Lobster and Co. sign on the old wooden shack we’re standing in front of. “Happy birthday, Will,” I say with a small smile. He turns to me, eyes wide. “You always said you wanted to try the whole lobster fishing experience, so, um, here we are.” He doesn’t answer right away, and I feel my smile dimming. What if he did try it in the past five years and now my idea looks stupid? “Are you serious?” he asks. My throat bobs. “Well, yeah.” Then, and only then, does his face split into a giant beam. “Thank you, V. So much.”

“I don’t really feel like making a big deal out of my birthdays anymore. After that last summer…” He shakes his head. “I don’t know, it was the last time we’d all celebrated together, as a family, and it didn’t feel the same after that, when you all weren’t there.”

“Would you…” I lick my lips. “Would you like to video call them? The boys, I mean.” His eyes become rounder, and he stares at me for a long moment before he says, “You think we could?” I think about it, but just for a second. Will never hurt the boys directly, so if I can be happy to see him now, I have no doubt they’d be too. I nod. The smile he gives me then is like a sunrise over the Atlantic. Breathtaking.

I get up. “Ready to go?” He follows me, but instead of answering my question, he asks one of his own. “Can I… Can I hug you?” I stop breathing, only for a second. He never would’ve asked before. He simply would’ve stepped forward and wrapped me in his arms. And I would’ve been more than happy to receive it.

“Thank you for today,” he whispers on top of my head. “It was the best birthday I’ve had in a long time.” “My pleasure,” I say, squeezing him a little tighter. And it really is.

“I knew you could,” I murmur on top of his head. “It’s all because of you,” he says, still stuck to my body like glue.

Who’s fooling who? We both know it’s always been you, a pair of hands lands on my hips.

He doesn’t look at me like Friend Will does; his stare is one of a man who’s craving something. And with this look, I know there’s no way in hell my feelings are one-sided. I swallow and keep on walking.

“There’s two O’s in there, and one L, I think, but man, your handwriting is really bad. Do it again but not in cursive.” He groans.

Eyes fluttering, I bring my lips a hair’s breadth from his and breathe, “What did you write, Will?” It all happens so fast. One second we’re staring into each other’s eyes—into each other’s souls—and the next, his lips are on mine, and my lips are on his, and it feels like breaking the surface after being stuck underwater forever. It’s as pure as a breath of fresh air and as vital as that first lungful of oxygen after being deprived for so long. Will’s kiss is possessive. Branding. There’s nothing tentative about it. It’s like we’ve had years to prepare ourselves for this, and now that we’re there, we want it all. Both our mouths open immediately, and when our tongues collide, I moan—yes, actually moan like a crazy person, but this is too good to stay quiet. He tastes like mint, both familiar and new. In one

A pulse throbs between my legs, where I feel Will getting hard, and I can’t help it. I grind my pelvis against his, moaning at the perfect feeling of friction. “Jesus Christ, V, you’re killing me.” He softly bites my collarbone.

“Actually, I think maybe we should take things slow tonight. I’m not…um… I’m not experienced, and—” “Hey, V, it’s fine. It’s just me, remember?” I nod. “Besides, I could kiss you all night.” He drops a peck on my lips. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to do this.” I swallow. “So we’re really doing this?” He’s shown me tonight how real this is, but I need it put into words, just once.

“You’ve always been mine, V, and I’ve always been yours. We just didn’t realize it.” I smile. He’s put my thoughts into words. “Will?” “Yeah?” “Kiss me.” So he does.

“Didn’t really have the choice.” He shrugs. “You can only go through so many episodes of food poisoning before you decide to do something about it.” I chuckle. “Thank God I didn’t get to eat with you then.” He turns to me and gives me a bittersweet smile. Shit. Wrong thing to say.

“I would’ve made more of an effort for you.” “Always my knight in shining armor.” He grins, his freaking dimple pitting his cheek. “At your service.”

“It’s so beautiful,” I say. “It is,” Will answers, but when I turn to him, I see his eyes aren’t admiring the idyllic scene. They’re on me, and in his hand sits his phone, camera flashing the second my mouth opens in a gasp. “Oh, no, you did not.” He smirks. “What if I did?”

Yes, it does blend with the night sky, making it look endless, but isn’t that the most beautiful? Like when you’re close to it, you’re part of something that’s infinite. “Do you remember the last time we came here at night?” I ask.

“As if it was yesterday.” A breath, then, “The last time all of us came here together, as a family.” I force a lump down my throat. Not only the last time we were all here together, but the last time I spent time at the beach with my mom. She didn’t want to come, but once in the water, I’d rarely seen her that happy. It’s not always easy to think of the positive moments I shared with my mother, but tonight, it kind of is.

Jesus freaking Christ, how did I get stuck in this situation? Getting naked to go in the dark ocean with my long-lost ex-best friend. No big deal at all.

“Okay, you can turn around.” He does, his eyes flashing with something I can’t name as he gazes at my naked shoulders and exposed neck. My pulse thunders in my veins, and while I’m shivering, being under his gaze makes me feel hotter than the strongest heat wave. Chest heaving under the water, I say, “W-weren’t you going for a swim?”

“Why? You wanna get a good view of my ass?” Scoffing, I shove his strong shoulder while repressing a laugh. “You exhibitionist.” He chuckles, and when our laughter dies down, he licks his lips and, in a low voice, says, “It’s not like it’s anything you haven’t seen before.”

“What? It’s true.” Ever so slowly, he marches forward as he watches my shocked face. “I remember everything, you know.” Around me, the air smells of saltwater and seaweed, but also of lemongrass and clean soap. Will’s hair is wet, dripping down his cheekbones and forehead. It’s intoxicating. So much so that when he moves even closer, I— “AHHHH!”

“You can’t sell it,” he repeats, not considering what I just said. “You can’t leave.”