I vacuum while he dusts and then I wedge a fresh bottle of champagne in the bucket on the glass coffee table. When we’re finished, Wil reaches for the remote and flops onto the bed.
“No. No way. We have to get to the other rooms.” I reach for his hand and try to pull him up, but he’s too strong. With one quick tug, I’m facedown in a pile of pillow shams. I inhale ocean breeze fabric softener before I flip onto my back and blow the hair out of my eyes. “We have to get out of here. What if Kinky Kildaire catches us?”
“Just for a few minutes.” Before I can argue, he’s on top of me, trailing kisses from my lips to my chin, down my neck. My body burns with want for him, for the softness of his lips and the roughness of his hands. I kiss him back, map the muscular lines of his back with my fingertips.
“Wil,” I whisper as he tugs at my T-shirt. “I want to. But not here. We can’t.”
“Just for a second,” he murmurs, kissing my stomach.
I can’t catch my breath. “Seriously.” I laugh. “Not here.”
He groans and rolls us over so that I’m on top now. “Whatever you say, boss.” He looks deep into my eyes and everything is suddenly quiet and still. I run my fingers through his hair. I want to slow time. I want to live in this room, in this exact second in time, with him forever.
“Do you ever wonder what it would be like to live like this?” I ask him, pointing and flexing my toes. “To come home and have everything look perfect?” I slide next to him, tucking into his body.
“Look perfect.” He sighs. “That’s the thing. You never know what peoples’ real lives are like.” He kisses the tip of my nose.
“I know,” I murmur. “But sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have everything just . . . taken care of.”
“You’d hate it,” he insists with a smile.
“Says you.” I shove him playfully, and he pulls me in even closer, fast.
“That’s what you like best. Taking care of people. You’re good at it.”
“Thanks.” I smile.
Wil says, “Besides, living with all this stuff doesn’t make a person happier. It’s just noise.” Cloud cover passes through him. Then his eyes are clear again.
“That view, though.” I prop myself up and watch the ocean colors pulse.
“I can see the ocean any time I want. I can see it up close, the way it’s supposed to be seen.” Wil moves closer. “Beautiful things are meant to be seen up close.”
“Really?” I murmur. “You’re going with that line?”
“I have to. It’s out there now.” His lips spread into a smile in the second before we kiss.
The phone bleats a shrill tone, and Wil jumps to his feet, accidentally knocking a glass off the side table. It hits the floor and shatters.
“Shit!” He stumbles back, his head colliding with the window. It makes a dull cracking sound. His hand flies to the back of his head and his breath comes out in short, rapid breaths.
I jump off the bed. “Wil!” I try to take his hand, but he is frozen. His eyes are distant, unfocused, like he’s miles away. “Wil!”
“I’m okay,” he finally says, sinking against the foot of the bed. I watch the adrenaline drain from him, until he’s nothing more than an empty vessel.
“You’re not okay.” My voice breaks. I kneel close to him. Not too close.
“I’m fine. I guess I scare easy these days.” He closes his eyes, shutting me out. “Sorry. That was so stupid.”
“No. No. It’s okay, Wil. Can I get you something, or—” He shrinks when I touch him.
The words Tell me, please hover on my tongue. But I am not the girl who wants to know the way everyone else wants to know. I’ve waited for him this long.
“Don’t. Just give me a second.” He slides his hands through his hair. His breath is thready. I watch his eyes race back and forth beneath his lids. “I’m fine. Sorry. I’m fine.”
I pull away. “It’s okay, Wil.” I am helpless, watching a storm inside him that I don’t understand. When his breath is slow again, I try to touch him. First on the knee. Then the arm.
“Talking about it could help,” I say. “You can tell me anything. Everything.”
“I can’t, Bridge.” His eyes are closed, still. I need to see them. “I want to. I just—I can’t.”
I settle back against the bed. The comforter smells like lavender. Leigh was right. I’ll never really know what Wil went through that night. No matter how close we are, no matter how much I love him, he will always have rooms I couldn’t possibly enter. Dark, hidden corners I won’t be able to find.
WIL
Spring, Senior Year
STORM clouds sink toward Dad’s truck as we pull out of the grocery store parking lot. Ana and I are wedged into the corner of the truck bed. I take off my jacket and wrap it around Ana’s shoulders in case we can’t outrun the storm.
“First senior bonfire, babe,” Ana whispers, her mouth close to my ear. Our run-in with Bridge in the grocery store flower aisle doesn’t bother Ana at all, apparently. “Can you believe we’re graduating in a couple of months?” She scoots closer, and I check Dad’s rearview to make sure he’s not spying.
“It’ll be fun.” I focus on the road. Even with my girlfriend so close, I can’t get Bridge’s colors out of my mind. Somehow I forgot that her hair is all the different shades of fire. Wind streams through the truck bed as Dad zigzags us toward home. “We should stay at the anniversary party for a while, though. Hang out with my parents.”
“Oh. Sure. It’s just that I’ve been wanting to go since I was a freshman,” Ana says. “Don’t you think it’s a rite of passage?”
I smile and nod and think, Really? You’ve been thinking about sitting around a fire for three years?
I need Ana to understand: Tonight is more than some stupid excuse to chug beer around an open fire like cave people. Tonight is the night that my mother will understand: My father is exactly the man we need him to be. It’s been months since Dad squeezed the air out of me at Nina’s, and he’s kept his promises. The most unbelievable thing has started to happen to our family. I’d never believe it, if it weren’t for the sea cucumbers.