She looked at me, sighed, and said, “We all have herpes, you know.”
“What?”
She put down the cinnamon bun.
“Think about it,” she said. “We’ve all been with each other. We share diseases, along with everything else.”
I walked around to the other side of the counter, my last check forgotten by then, and took her hands in mine. She squirmed just a little, but then stopped and looked back at me. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, and her cheeks were flushed, her eyelashes so blond they were nearly white. It had been a really long time since I saw her without makeup on.
“I know it might not work,” I said. “And there’s a real possibility everything will get fucked-up, but you’re coming with me. Don’t you want to try and do something different with your life? You know, do makeup for real?”
She stared at me, and her eyebrows furrowed.
And then, in a smaller voice, I asked, “Don’t you want me?”
Tears formed in her eyes, and they looked like they were made of glass.
“Of course I do,” she said.
I put my hand flat on the small of her back, and pulled her toward me.
“Come with me,” I whispered into her mouth.
“Now?”
I pulled out the chocolate box, quickly showing her the money.
“Yes,” I said. “People do this, you know. People run away. People start over.”
Stinky Lewis barked once and let out a long whine.
“Before it gets light outside,” I said.
She leaned into me, and for the first time since New Year’s Eve, she wrapped both arms around me.
“I always forget how small you are,” she said.
“So do I,” I said.
I hoisted myself onto the counter and took her face in my hands. Somehow, though I’d never felt this way before, I knew how to kiss her. One hand on the back of her neck, one hand on her back. I thought I’d known with Susan, but this was different.
She knew too. I felt her fingers in my hair, my crown dropping to the floor.
I tasted her salty tears, and I understood that they were tears of relief, and also of fear. I shared those feelings.
She pulled away just for a second and said, “I can’t promise that I won’t hurt you, but I can promise that I’ll try not to.”
“So that’s a yes?”
She fell into me, her weight against me, her face buried in my neck. “This is so crazy,” she whispered.
I wrapped my legs around her waist and held her.
“Let’s go be crazy,” I whispered.
“Okay,” Heather said, untying her apron and tossing it aside. “Fuck it.”
It felt a little bit like jumping off Fourth Cliff, only more. I took her hand again and led her outside with me, our hips bumping together. Heather laughed, tossing the keys aside without even locking up.
As we climbed into the car—me in my prom crown and Heather in her Emmylou’s uniform—I realized that I had no idea where I’d be on my eighteenth birthday but that I wanted Heather with me.
“I’ve always loved you,” she said from the passenger seat. This time, she looked straight at me.
“Me too,” I said, touching her cheek. “Cliff jumpers for life.” Then I kissed her again before I turned the key in the ignition and sped onto the highway, away from the sand-covered roads.
Soon, in Hopuonk, summer would be in full swing. After that, the fall would come, and the leaves would start turning. Then the leaf peepers would come down from Boston to see the foliage, with their collars popped and their belts tight. Once they were satisfied, they would turn and go right back to their fancy little brownstones in the city.
Then the leaves would die and fall and snow would cover them up, just like they were never there at all.