Somewhere Between Water and Sky (Shattered Things #2) (28 page)

BOOK: Somewhere Between Water and Sky (Shattered Things #2)
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The roaming dance party ends somewhere in the middle of downtown after more than a few people recognize a brief appearance of a well known DJ. The whispers and attention break the spell, if just for a moment, and that

s enough for the original crew to thank everyone for coming. A hat passes around the crowd for donations and by the time Jessa and I get it cash is overflowing.


I think I missed my calling,

I whisper and she giggles, grabbing my hand and pointing to a nearby garage. We say bye to our new friends and walk over to the ledge overlooking the Pacific. The blue-dark of night is still winning

the light of morning only a mere hour away. If you look close enough, you can see the first hints of orange over the horizon where the water meets the sky.

I suck in a breath and watch the line become hazy.


This is one of my favorite views.

Jessa breaks the silence.

I look at her and sniff.


Pavement?

She swats at my arm and points in front of us.

That. That line.

She motions around us.

These buildings. It

s all sharp edges set up against the softness of the ocean. Mesmerizing.

I sit there, not responding, just watching the stars slowly disappear.


I miss him,

I whisper. I

m not looking at her

we

re both still sitting on the ledge facing out toward the Pacific.

I

m prepared for her to grab me and shake me and tell me that I shouldn

t be moaning over a boy.

I

m prepared for her to reach for my hand to squeeze it and tell me how she knows and she

s sorry and she

s been there.

I

m not prepared for what she does next.

Jessa jumps off the ledge and starts running toward the stairs.

I frown and stare after her for a second. When I realize she

s not coming back, I call after her.


Jessa, what the hell?


Just follow me!

She says, a silly grin on her face.


But

where are you going?

She stops and turns and gives me a serious look.

Have I ever led you somewhere horrible?

I sigh and remember the last time she asked us to follow her.


This better not be an abandoned building, Jessa.

She laughs and winces at the same time.


Just come. No abandoned buildings. Promise.

I jump off the ledge and chase after her across the parking garage. We race up flights of stairs, her muttering

hurry, hurry, hurry

under her breath as her feet slap against the pavement. I

m beginning to regret the running last night because my thighs have turned into a single flame.

We get to the top and I lean my hands on my knees.


This way.

And she grabs my hand and pulls me toward the ledge. I halt.


Jessa
…”

She turns and her hair blows up and around her face in the early morning wind.


Just trust me?

I

m exhausted now, the night catching up to me and hitting me like a square brick in between the eyes. I watch as she climbs up on the ledge and reaches her hands around the metal bar.


A few years ago, when I was in the middle of all that therapy, my counselor mentioned I needed to work out my anger.

She balances on her feet and spreads her arms wide in front of her. She turns her head and smiles at me.


This became my therapy.

Leaning forward, I see her take a deep breath and then she screams.


What the fuck?

I mutter under my breath and begin to look around to see if anyone hears us. Of course no one will

we

re in the middle of downtown LA and twenty stories up from ground level. This is as separate from the flow of traffic and busy-ness as you can get.

And also like, ass-crack early in the morning. Or late. Whatever.

She screams again. This time her arms stretched out beside her, her head tilted back. She looks ethereal. Turning around she catches her breath and smiles.


You joining me or what?


In

screaming? You brought me up here to scream?

She holds out her hand.

Steph. You got all this poison pent up inside. All this anger. You need to release it

remind yourself what it means to feel alive.


I think I know what alive feels like.

I put a finger to my pulse on my neck and then point below us.

I

d rather not tempt fate.

She laughs and motions for me to join her.


Come on. You

ll love this.

Her gold pants shine in the lights of the garage and I

m sure if anyone happens to glance up, they

ll wonder about the colored pinwheel glowing up above them.

I climb up the ledge and position myself next to her. She grabs my hand.

Count of three?

She looks at me out of the corner of her eye and my breath catches.

So this is friendship.

Too close. She

s getting too close.

Slowly, my life is turning beautiful because of this fire cracker standing next to me. It scares me. I return her smile, only slightly faltering. I answer back in a whisper.


Count of three.

My heart is pounding in my chest. I

m not sure I will know how to scream. I think that

s when I remember that outside of a few moments with my dad, I

ve never screamed before. Not like this. Not from the gut. Not without fear of anyone listening.

She starts to count.


One

.

My breath shortens and I close my eyes.


Two

.

Slowly, I lean forward to where my chest is up against the metal bar.


THREE.

I open my eyes and see the world before me. I open my mouth and let the fear and hurt and anger and sadness leave me in a rush. My scream seems quiet at first, reserved. But I just keep screaming

building up breath only to release it again. Every scream is louder and more guttural. I see the poem taped my door. I see Kevin walking into the coffee shop in the middle of my breakdown. I see the poetry house and think of Pacey and Emma and the way my body melted into Kevin

s in the field watching stars and the way my pulse jumped out of my skin when he kissed me in the rain and with every breath

every scream

I feel the weight of a hundred men fall from my shoulders.

When we finish, I

m shaking and there are tears streaming down my cheeks. I wipe them away before Jessa can say anything.

And that

s when I see the sunrise.

It

s the first one I

ve seen since moving to California. All this time, I

ve avoided it because of the memories. Sunrises remind me of the life I lived. They remind me of him. And now, staring at the soft pink light creeping its way across the blue-black sky I begin to wonder why it took me so long. The pink echoes off the water below it and glows in every direction.

I see Jessa

s eyes on me and I turn to look at her, this time not bothering to wipe away the tears.


I love sunrises,

I whisper.

She smiles and squeezes my hand.

I know.

We stay there, hand in hand, watching the sun

s rays shoot forward and point to the moon still hanging in the sky, and I can almost hear the day tell the night that its time is over. When there

s more light than dark and the sun is cresting over the buildings, she turns and motions toward the car.


You ready?

I nod.

We hop off the ledge and begin walking back toward the stairs when I turn to look at her again.

Why did you bring me up here again? Why did you want me to scream?

She laughs.

Oh I didn

t know we were going to scream until I realized just how far up we were

I came up here to catch the sunrise.

I stare.


If there

s one thing I

ve realized, Stephanie, it

s that boys are great but we don

t need them for romance. We can find romance in other ways. Chasing the light of day with a friend, screaming at the top of our lungs twenty stories in the air, joining a dance mob through the streets of LA

beauty and romance can happen at any moment. We just have to open ourselves up for it.

She looks at me again.

You don

t need a guy in order to live a life full of beauty. You just need people. Those who will go to bat for you and stand by your side when things get shitty. You need those people to remind you of the good. There

s always another day, you know? It

s what I love about sunrises. The way the rays crack the night sky wide open. Kind of sentimental.

Something inside me shifts as I listen. Without even thinking, I wrestle her into a hug and she starts laughing.


I didn

t think you were one for hugging.

My voice cracks and I spit out a mouthful of purple hair.


I

m not. I

m so not. But you have a way of pushing through all my defenses, dammit.

She throws up her arms with my own still wrapped around her neck and she lets out a squeal.


I did it, Universe! I did it! I cracked the impenetrable Stephanie Tiller. My life is complete.

She quiets then and wraps her arms around me and squeezes.


Now. Do you happen to know the bus route back to your hotel? I

m picturing showers and a hell of a nap before moving all of your stuff to my place.

I slowly step away and wipe the tears off my cheeks and swallow my laughter.


Jessa. We

ve been through this. I haven

t said yes yet.

A slow smile spreads across her face as she walks away from me.


Yet.
Only one small, insignificant letter off from
yes.

I call after her.


Do you even know where you

re going? I have the bus route, remember?

She pauses in the doorway and I laugh.

BOOK: Somewhere Between Water and Sky (Shattered Things #2)
3.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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