I dive under the water. Follow him. Join him at the steps.
His hand brushes mine. "You knew me when it happened."
"Last June."
He nods.
"But you said it's been fourteen months since you've—"
His lips curl into a half smile, but his eyes stay sad. "That's the detail you noticed?"
I nod.
"Yeah. Penny was right."
"Huh?"
"Sorry. I keep forgetting you're not in my head."
"I wish I was."
"It's a mess."
"So's mine." I sit next to him. Follow his gaze to the dark sky. "So's everyone's." The stars are tiny white dots. They're dull. Faint. "You're not a lost cause. I don't think that."
"I know."
"But the other day—"
"I was pissed."
"You were?"
"Yeah." He leans back on his elbows. "Penny wanted to ask if you were good to me."
I can't help but laugh. "Compared to her?"
"Compared to what I deserve, I guess."
"And she knows?"
"Shit was good for a long time. I loved her. She loved me. Says she still does."
My stomach leaps into my throat. "Don't tell me—"
"That usual I love you, but I'm not in love with you bullshit."
The tension in my shoulders unfurls. Thank God. "Oh."
"But it wasn't bullshit." He turns to me. "She meant it."
"She really wants you to be happy?"
"Yeah. I want to get there. To wanting that for her."
"Me too. I mean. I want that for you too." And for me too. I want both of us to forget she exists.
"You're good to me, Leigh. Better than I deserve." His eyes fill with vulnerability.
I want to wipe all his pain away. I need to reassure him. I need more than words. But words are all I've got. "You really believe that?"
"I don't know." His gaze shifts to the sky. "I just know I can't lose you."
"You won't."
"I might."
"Anything is possible, yeah. But I'm not going anywhere."
"When this guy realizes how great you are—"
"I'm still going to be by your side." I'm going to be there. With him. Forever. "What was she right about?"
"Two years ago, three now, she gave up on starting her own website."
"The punk one?"
"It was supposed to be an edgy women's interest site, yeah."
"XO Punk Jane."
He looks at me like I'm crazy.
"It's a big women's site. But, carry on."
"Your hair looks silver in the moonlight."
"The chlorine washed out all the dye."
"I always wonder what it's gonna look like."
"I'm pretty settled on purple."
"That's what you said about pink."
"I gave it six months."
He brushes my wet hair behind my ear. "You're afraid of commitment?"
"No. I just like seeing a different person in the mirror sometimes."
He nods I get that. Shifts back to telling his story. "Three years ago, she took a job at her dad's company."
"Your dad works for hers?"
"Yeah. The media conglomerate that buys out good websites and turns them into generic pop-culture shit with a theme."
"Oh. Yeah. They're the worst."
He laughs. "Her dad offered her a job at the women's interest one. She took it. When she told me, I couldn't believe it. That was a betrayal of everything we believed in."
"Why?"
"I was never quite as punk rock as Brendon. Hell, Penny was the one encouraging me to rage against the machine. We promised each other we'd never work for the man."
"You were kids."
"That's how she saw it, yeah. She thought we were naïve kids. That things had changed now that she was twenty-three and broke."
"And you?"
"I told her I understood, but I didn't. It became this wall between us. Every time she mentioned the site's name or blurted out a buzz word, I lost a little respect for her. Until I had none left."
"Oh."
"I didn't realize it. I still saw her as the sixteen-year-old who scribbled Testify on my arms. Who giggled as we traded promise rings. Who begged me to get ink with her."
"You have matching tattoos?"
He shakes his head. "She chickened out."
"But you—"
He shifts to the right, rolls his shorts down his left hip. There's a locked heart in greyscale.
"Can I?"
"Yeah."
Under the water, my fingers brush his smooth, slick skin. "You loved her with your whole heart, huh?"
"Of course."
"I've never loved anyone like that."
"Your mom?"
"Of course. But not romantically." I press my lips together. "I guess it's easy to explain it like that. Alcoholic mom taught me love is enabling someone. Thus, I have no interest in love. I'm sure Iris would have a better explanation—"
"That's not what I meant."
"Oh."
"It feels good, letting your guard down."
I nod. I want to get there with Ryan. To trust I can spill my guts without him leaving. To trust I can tell him everything.
"But she was right. After she took that job, I started throwing those walls up. I stopped talking to her. Stopped listening."
"Stopped loving her?"
"I kept loving that sixteen-year-old girl. But that wasn't her anymore."
"Now?"
"Part of me still loves her, the old her. But that girl doesn't exist anymore. People change. Maybe I haven't. But I should."
"She's still the one who fucked him."
"Yeah. But it was gonna end either way."
Probably.
"If she'd had more guts or I'd been less oblivious…" He turns toward me. "It was for the best, but—"
"That doesn't make it easier to trust anyone?"
He nods.
"Do you trust me?"
"I want to." His eyes bore into mine. "I want that so fucking badly."
"Me too."
"You're such a good friend. I hate asking for more."
Friend. What an ugly word. It's a knife in my gut. It's acid on my tongue. It's a raincloud on a sunny day. "Asking is the only way you'll get something."
He nods. "Promise me something."
"What?"
"That you'll tell me if I'm about to lose you."
"You won't lose me."
"Promise anyway."
I stare back into his blue eyes. "Okay. I promise."
Chapter Eighteen
Leighton
White light falls over the dresser.
Over the black bedspread.
Over Ryan's inked arms.