searching for my phone amid the tangle of blanket.
Lawrence releases a sigh in his sleep, drawing my attention.
He looks so sweet that I impulsively want to kiss his eyelids.
Thinking about last night, a rush of heat crackles over my
cheeks and neck. I’m instantly self-conscious. Does my breath
stink? Do I look like death warmed over?
Not that Lawrence would say anything if I did. I lay back on the blanket and watch him for a minute. This whole situation
still feels like a weird dream. I’d be lying if I didn’t say that a
tiny part of me wonders if he’s a ghost. An even bigger part of
me wonders if there’s really any chance to save him.
I touch Lawrence’s hand lightly, feeling the smoothness of his skin. I’ve been so focused on trying to figure out who’s
going to hurt him that I’ve barely entertained the question
of what comes next. Each moment I’ve spent with Lawrence
has been with the urgency that it could be our last. What will
happen when we can be together without limits? And more
importantly, where will we be together? We can’t stay on the
beach forever. So whose world do we settle in? Mine? His? Can
I really leave my life behind to be with him? Can I ask him to
do the same?
The questions pile on, and I pull my hand from Lawrence’s.
Unease seeps into what should be a perfect morning. I close
my eyes, wanting to unthink these thoughts.
Lawrence shifts beside me. He opens his eyes, blinking slowly. A smile spreads across his face.
“It wasn’t a dream then.”
This makes me smile as well. “Nope.”
He stretches with a happy sigh. “Divine.” I laugh a little, and
he traces a line along my jaw. “You’re perfection, Cassandra.”
“Mental note: Lawrence is particularly complimentary in
the mornings.”
He smiles. “You should take advantage of that more often
in the future.”
“I’ll try.” But his mention of the future calls back the unsettled feeling. I check the time on my phone. Six a.m.
“What’s that?” Lawrence asks, resting his chin on my shoulder. His messy morning hair is outrageously cute. I tuck my phone beneath me, giving him a quick kiss.
“Futuristic stuff. You’re not allowed to see it yet.”
“If you insist.” But he darts a hand to my pocket to try to
grab it.
“Hey!” I successfully pull away my phone, and he grabs my
key ring instead.
“Aha!” He says. “I’ve got your…” He holds up my keys,
examining them with a furrowed brow. “What on earth is
this thing?”
I laugh. I carry a lot of junk on my key ring. It must look
like a pretty crazy contraption to him.
He holds up my house key. “This is some kind of key, but
what are these other things?”
I grab the little stuffed elephant. “Meet Charles Xavier. I got
him in junior high. Long story, that one.”
“And this?” he asks, touching my mini flashlight.
“Push that little button there, and see for yourself.”
He does, and the flashlight glows white and then flashes red.
Lawrence startles and stares with amazement. It’s pretty adorable.
“Do I even want to know what this one does?” he asks,
pointing to the pepper spray.
“Actually, no. You don’t. All I’ll say is that it’s a weapon of
sorts. Meant to protect me from bad guys.”
He turns an awed look at me. “Fascinating.”
“Trust me, there are way cooler things in the future than this
piddly little key ring.”
“What kinds of things?” he asks. “Describe them to me.”
I waggle a finger at him. “No more future talk. We’re in a
precarious situation as it is. Let’s not push our luck.” I sit up
and pull my fingers through my hair, which must look like
a mangled sloth perched on my head. “Speaking of which, I
think we should plan our next three days.”
Lawrence sighs. “Back to business.”
“Um, yes. We don’t know how things are going to play out