Erik and I go to the ocean as the sun slips toward the horizon, to a secluded place near the bluffs outside of town. At first, I didn’t want to. I was afraid that same overwhelming desire I had that night with Steven would crop up. I was afraid I’d beg Erik to swim with me, would somehow convince him to get into the water.
But Erik persuaded me otherwise. It’s all part of his plan to prove to me that we really can be normal together, that I might still be driven to drown regular guys, but that I can’t drown him. And somehow here I am, my bare toes burrowing into the sand. It’s cold, wet, nothing like the summer heat of just a month ago.
He brought a blanket, a beautiful worn-out handmade quilt, and we’re leaning back on our elbows, watching the sun set. Nerves multiply in my stomach. I don’t know what the next twenty minutes will bring, how I’m going to feel, or why Erik is sitting there, so casual and unworried.
I haven’t been on the beach at sunset since Steven. If he’s wrong, I don’t know if I’ll be able to resist dragging him into the surf like that night.
We don’t speak, we just sit, a gentle salty breeze ruffling our hair as the sun slips lower and lower on the horizon, until the sea is touching the burning-red sphere.
My breath gets shallower with each passing moment as the sun completes its arc. The sounds of the waves reach a crescendo, and I can’t hear anything but the whoosh of the water, in and out, my own breath matching its pace.
The desire to swim grows within me, and I sit up, twist around, and look at Erik.
“You want it, don’t you?” he asks.
I nod, clench my teeth together.
“But I won’t follow you. I’m not tempted by your voice. I wasn’t at the lake, and I won’t be now.”
I just sit there, dumbly. How can he say it, so simply? How can he know what I am and not hate me for it?
Erik drapes an arm over my shoulder and pulls me into him. I bury my face into his chest and let out the longest, slowest sigh I’m capable of. My body still burns to stand and run into the surf, but for now I ignore it. I’ll go to my lake later.
“Eventually, this will be over. We can sit here, and you won’t even be tempted to do what I know you’re thinking right now.”
Tears spring forth. They drip down my cheeks before I’m even aware they’ve left my eyes. Erik rests his chin on top of my head and stays silent, one hand brushing softly up and down my back.
He knows what I am and he still wants me.
Everything I ever wanted, everything that was so far beyond my reach is now obtainable.
“I want to go to homecoming,” I manage to gasp out, my voice garbled with tears.
“What?”
“The dance. I want to go with all of my friends. Like I would have two years ago.”
He nods and squeezes me.
“And I want to play a sport. Or maybe ... be in some kind of club.”
He doesn’t speak.
“And I want to go to college somewhere far away.”
Erik keeps rubbing my back, listening to me rant with a soft smile on his face. I voice the dreams I never thought were possible.
When I’m done, he pushes a lock of hair away from my eyes and simply says, “You will.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
When I walk into school on Monday, I float through the halls, still a little dazed by the unexpected turn of my life. How is it that a week ago, I knew nothing of Erik, and now I owe him everything?
“Please tell me it’s not about him,” a voice calls over my shoulder. I spin around and see Cole leaning against the wall.
“Who?”
Cole pushes away from the cinder block and walks up to me. “Erik.”
I hesitate. I don’t want to hurt him any more than I have already.
“So what’s the deal? Just trade one guy for another?”
“It’s not like that,” I say.
“I thought we had something real.”
“Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
He stares right at me for a long second. “Every time something goes wrong, every time life gets hard, you withdraw.”
“Please, just go.”
“I’m already gone. Have a nice life.”
Cole turns and walks away. I’m left standing there near tears, wishing more than anything I could run after him and explain it all. But all that would do is ensure that the next time I see him walk away, it’ll be forever, no going back.
If he knows what I am, he’ll never talk to me again.
Just like my dad.
The next evening, Erik takes me to the boardwalk, with its indoor putt-putt golf, bumper boats, and Go Karts. He slides his cash under the window as I stand, fidgeting, beside him, excited about going on a real date, one that isn’t tainted by a thick layer of secrets. The teller hands him a handful of tickets, and Erik tears off the first two. He shoves the rest in his pocket.
“Just because you’re a girl, don’t expect me to go easy on you,” he says, grinning widely as he leads me out the big double doors and toward the chain-link fence. A small shack squats along the outer ring of the rubber-tire-lined, asphalted Go Kart track.
“Oh, please. You’re going down,” I say, grinning right back. I’m glad he wanted to do this tonight. I need this after the blowout with Cole.
Erik hands two tickets to a guy in a fluorescent-orange vest and then reaches over and grips my hand. His hand is so much bigger than mine that it feels lost in his as he pulls me through the gate and leads me over to the idling Go Karts.
“I’ll even give you a head start,” he says, pointing to the lead car, a fiery red Kart.
“Oh, no way. I take that one, and when you lose, you’ll blame it on my lead position.”
I don’t wait for him to respond. I bound over to the orange Kart that rumbles from its second place position.
“Fine,” he says. “And when I lap you, you’ll have to admit defeat.”
I snap the five-point harness on and tighten the straps. I wait for the little light to turn green and test the pedals with my feet, listening as the engine roars to life. I’ve lived in this town my whole life and have never ridden these things. It’s something silly the tourists do, something the locals scoff at.
But, despite that, it still seems like the best idea I’ve ever heard.
The light turns green, and I slam down the gas pedal so hard I bump the back of Erik’s Kart. He glances back at me, a little surprised, but I just give him a devilish smile and do it again. The attendant scowls and points at a NO BUMPING sign as I fly past him. My hair, loose again, floats out around me as I pick up speed.
Erik veers around the first series of turns, a serpentine of lefts and rights and lefts. Then he goes down a small hill and around a sharp hairpin to the left. I’m inches behind him, my hands gripping hard at the wheel, waiting for my chance. Erik glances back, and it’s enough to throw his concentration off. When a sweeping, curving turn bears to the right, he takes it too wide, and I see my shot. I slam the gas to the floor, and my bumper nudges inside his.
I could slip by him. I could coast between his steel railing and the inner wall of the track. But it’s just him and me on the racing surface, and I don’t want to.
I want to have a little fun. So just as I reach halfway up his car, I yank hard left, and his eyes widen as the wheel jerks violently in his hands and his car starts to skid sideways.
I grin as he turns so far that he’s facing me head-on. I manage to blow him a kiss as I hit the gas again and speed past him.
By the time I come around again, the attendant is standing in the track, waving his hand across his throat as if to say, “Cut it out.” He flags me back into the lineup of cars, even though I only went one lap around. But it’s not enough to deflate my mood. My adrenalin is raging so hard it’s impossible to wipe the grin from my face as I pull to a stop, shrugging at the worker. I pretend to be apologetic, but I suspect my dopey smile counters that impression.