TWENTY-SEVEN
borealis
My mind was still swimming with what my dad had told me as I made the trek home in the darkness. The air was crisp and clean, even if it did leave my face icy, and I shoved my hands deeper in my pockets. The moon had begun to wane, but it was still bright and rather fat, illuminating the clear sky.
It was late enough that the cobblestone roads leading away from my parents’ house were empty. Even the chickens and goats that frequently wandered the area had gone home to rest for the night.
I heard another set of footsteps, echoing off the stone, coming toward me from a cross street, but I didn’t really register them. I was too lost in my thoughts, trying to figure out what I was missing with Konstantin.
“You don’t see enough of me already, so you’ve resorted to stalking me?” Ridley asked, and I glanced up to see him walking over to me, grinning crookedly.
“What?” I was startled by him, and it took a second for me to realize he was joking. Then I smiled back and motioned toward my parents’ place. “No. I was just coming from my parents’ cottage.”
“Likely story.” He’d reached me, and we both stood in the middle of the empty road. “Care if I join you?”
“Sure.” I shrugged and started walking north again, and he fell in stride beside me. “We’re gonna have to split off soon, though. Your place is west, and mine is east.”
“We’ll worry about it when we come to it. For now, let’s just enjoy the time we have together,” he said simply.
We walked for a little while, neither of us saying anything. I wished that silence had felt comfortable and easy between us, like it used to. But now it felt thick and heavy, filled with things that I didn’t want to say.
“Aren’t you gonna accuse me of being the one stalking you?” Ridley asked finally, and he’d fallen a bit behind, so I slowed to meet his steps.
“No.” I stared down at the road, watching pebbles crunch underneath my feet, and I found myself saying something I’d been trying to pretend wasn’t true. “I assumed you were coming from Juni’s.”
“I was,” he admitted. “You don’t like her very much, do you?”
“No, of course I like her,” I said, probably too quickly and too enthusiastically, but that had to be better than confessing how I really felt. “She’s fantastic and probably the nicest person that’s ever lived. What’s not to like?”
“You say that, but you sound annoyed.”
“I don’t mean to. I’m not.” I looked over at him, forcing the brightest smile I could manage. “She’s great. I’m happy for you. For both of you.”
“Thanks,” he said, sounding as halfhearted as I had.
“Just…” A lump grew in my throat, thick and suffocating, and yet I continued to talk around it, asking a question that I knew I shouldn’t ask. Even as the words fell out of my mouth, twisting my heart painfully, I wished I hadn’t said anything at all. “Why her?”
“Why her what?” Ridley asked.
“You dated all these girls for so long, and when I say ‘dated,’ I’m using the word very liberally.” Words kept tumbling out as I struggled to explain away what I really meant. “Because you had a string of girls you saw maybe once or twice, and I get that Juni’s perfect.” I paused, remembering that she was actually amazing. “I mean, she is perfect. But…” I trailed off. “I don’t know. I don’t even know what I’m asking.”
He didn’t answer right away, which only made me more nervous. My stomach churned, and my heart had begun to beat so rapidly, I’d begun to feel weak. Why had I said anything at all? Why couldn’t I just forget that I felt anything for Ridley? Why was it so hard not to want something I knew I could never have?
“Things changed,” he said at length. “I’m getting older, and running around doesn’t have the same appeal. I realized that I don’t wanna do that anymore. That I don’t want to be that guy, and I’m sick of living like I’m just a kid without a care in the world. I care about things, I have responsibilities, and I want just one girl.”
“That all makes sense,” I said, even though I wasn’t sure if it did or not. I just wanted to end the conversation and move on to something that felt much less terrifying and painful.
“Does it? I hoped it did. Sometimes I just ramble.”
“I’ve long since suspected that.” I tried to keep my tone light, to make a joke of things, but I wasn’t sure if it worked.
Either way, we didn’t say anything more, and we’d finally reached the fork in the road. A small, triangle-shaped sweets shop diverged the road into two paths—one going to the west end, where Ridley lived among the mansions, and one to the east end, where I lived in my loft above the barn.
“Here we are.” I stopped and turned to face him, since it seemed rude to just walk away, even though I really wanted to.
Ridley looked around, as if expecting to find something exciting. “Where are we?”
“The point where we should split off.” I gestured to the two roads.
“Why here? Why not keep going a block that way?” He stuck his thumb back behind him, at the road that led to his house.
“The road splits here, and that’ll take me a block out of my direction.”
“Then I’ll go that way,” he offered and pointed to my road.
I shook my head. “That’ll take you a block out of your way.”
“Maybe I don’t mind going out of my way. Maybe I like the extra detour.” He was smiling, but his eyes were serious. “Would it be so bad if I wanted to spend a few more minutes with you?”
“It’s not bad. It’s just…” I stopped when I saw color splashing on his face, and I turned my gaze up at the night sky to the aurora borealis shimmering above us. “Look at that.”
Vibrant blue shifting to brilliant violet light illuminated the ether in winding arcs. Stars glimmered like diamonds in the indigo sky as pulsating hues washed across the night sky in luscious waves.
“Oh wow,” he whispered.
“It’s amazing.” I stared up in awe at the dazzling colors dancing across the clear night sky. “No matter how many times I see the northern lights, I’m still stunned by how beautiful they are.”
“Yeah, I know exactly what you mean,” Ridley said. There was something low and meaningful in his voice that made me turn to him, but he was already looking at me.
“What?” I asked, confused by the somberness in his expression.
“Before when we were talking, were you asking why her?” The aurora above us reflected on his face, and his dark eyes were filled with heat. “Or were you asking why not you?”
“No. No.” I avoided his gaze and ran my hand through my hair. “I would never. No.” I swallowed hard. “I know why not me.”
“Why not you?” he repeated.
“Because it’s wrong.” I finally met his eyes and tried to smile at him, trying to play off the growing pain in my chest. “There’s a million reasons why not me, and you know them all. And you don’t … you don’t even want to anyway.”
He smiled in disbelief at me. “I’ve wanted to kiss you practically since the day I met you. But I knew you would never let me.”
“How would you know that if you never tried?” I asked, and then I was too nervous to even breathe, terrified of what might happen next.
For a second he only stared at me, and I wished I’d never said anything. I wished I’d left my parents’ house five minutes sooner so I wouldn’t even have seen him at all tonight, and I wouldn’t be playing this stupid game where I pretend that we like each other or that we could ever be together. Because I know we can’t, and he knows we can’t, so it’s better if he just walks away. If he just turns around and leaves me here alone, but my heart is thudding painfully in my chest, begging him to kiss me.
And just when I’m certain he won’t, and I’m about to turn and hurry away in shame, he’s there. His lips are cold, pressing hungrily against mine. His fingers knotting in my hair, pulling me to him. His stubble scrapes against my lips and cheeks, but I don’t mind, I like it. I love everything about him that feels so real, touching me, holding me.
I wrap my arms around his neck, and I bury my hands in his hair. It’s longer and thicker than I thought it would be, and I feel the curls at the nape of his neck wrapping around my fingertips.
He’s strong, stronger than I thought he’d be, and his arm around my waist is crushing me to him so hard that I can barely breathe. But I don’t care. I don’t want to breathe. I just want to kiss him forever, tasting him on my lips, feeling him against me.
But then he pulls away, gasping for breath, but he keeps his face close to mine.
And then suddenly, as oxygen fills my lungs, my senses take hold of me, and I realize exactly how wrong that was. I let go of him and step back, even though it kills me a little to do it.
Ridley stands there, his arms falling to his side, as he watches me back away from him.
“I have to go,” I say, because I can’t think of anything better, and then I turn and I’m running as fast as my legs will carry me, as far away from Ridley as I can get.