by Sonya Jesus
“We’re not staying here?” she asks
“No. Is that okay?” Despite the no lipstick and comfortable shoes, which were testing my abstinence, I didn’t want her to be familiar with the guys. I want her just for me, at least for tonight. I know of the perfect place where we can be alone.
“Where are we going?” she asks, as I grab one of the throw blankets with the CamU insignia on it.
“For a walk.”
She smirks and loosens up a bit. “I’ve gotten a lot of tours lately.”
I poke on her status. “The teacher friend with a boyfriend?”
“That’s a very strange way to put it.”
“Sorry, it’s been a long time since I was on a date with someone other than Vanessa. A lot of things I do may seem strange.” I nod at Ledger, all the while avoiding her scrutiny. “See you later.”
“Bye.” Ledger stretches out the word as he backs toward the hallway. “Night, Rose.”
“Night!” she says, as I gently put a hand on the curve of her back and lead her toward the front door. She takes a couple steps forward, dislodging herself from my touch, but not before she let my hand roam just a bit over the curve of her butt.
That is something Thorn would not have done. This is going to be the longest night of my life.
I open the door for her, inconspicuously sniffing the blanket before throwing it over my shoulder. Not rank and doesn’t smell like feet. It’ll do for the truth.
11
Fishing
Kai
It’s a perfect clear night. The stars are out and not many people loiter the campus grounds. My fingers itch to grab the look-alike’s hand as I guide her toward the Labyrinth, but I refrain. She’s nervous, probably still thinks I’m an asshole, and my palms are sweaty.
Which is not normal. I haven’t had sweaty palms since high school… with Thorn. Refusing to delve deeper into the meaning, I wipe my hands on the blanket and kick up my pace. We fall into beat together, strolling shoulder to shoulder through campus.
Silence doesn’t affect the air between us. Outside of the Rugger Loft, she’s freer—less constrained by something—and I’m calmer. Without eyes on me, I’m comfortable with just learning who I am with her around. Or maybe it’s being in her presence that calms me.
The sparkly shit girls put on their Cupid’s bow and the apples of their cheeks shine when we pass under the campus lights, illuminating her gorgeous bone structure.
Not Thorn.
This Yes, Thorn—No, Thorn game is going to be the death of me.
I’m analyzing every single thing, weighing out the possibilities of Rose being Thorn, but the line between the two keeps crossing. There’s a familiarity between us that I haven’t quite figured out, and yet she’s strange in some ways. A part of me thinks she’s my girl, and another part thinks I’m crazy.
I stop and glance at her, but she points to the Labyrinth.
“You’re taking me on a date to the library?” she breaks the silence.
All the lights are on, and it alone illuminates this half of the campus. I chuckle as she fingers the material of the blanket.
“We still have a bit of walking to do. You know how down at the beach, there’s the cliff where the gym overlooks the ocean?”
“Yeah…”
“I’m going to take you there.”
“To the cliff that overlooks the sea?” She scoffs and shifts the weight from one foot to the other. “Through the shrubs?”
I take my phone out and turn the flashlight on, guiding her eyes with the light. “You act like it’s a jungle in the Amazon Rainforest.” I part one of the shrubs and duck in, extending my hand for her to follow. “It’s not dangerous. It’s a shortcut.”
“Right,” she says, as she places her hand in mine and looks around, completely nervous to be alone with me. “Because shortcuts aren’t dangerous. Ever. Not even in the least bit.”
Such a Thorn comment.
“Are you afraid of cliffs?” My heart pounds roughly against my ribcage. It would make sense for Thorn to be afraid if she fell from a high height.
“No.”
I swallow the hope building in my throat. “Good. Come on.” I tug her forward, and she crashes through the bushes. I shine my light on her, unintentionally blinding her, and pluck a couple of small leaves from her hair. “See. It’s a path.” I light the dirt path with my light. “It leads to one of the best views on campus.”
“Which view is that? Murder Peak?”
I bite down on my lip to keep from laughing at her.
“Have you ever been to the gym?” The words land on my ears, and I wince on how they sound. God, she makes me nervous. “I mean, have you been to the gym here?”
Not better.
She laughs and says, “Not yet. I’ve only been her for three days. I’m not exactly a gym kind of girl.”
Her body is toned and curvy. The fact that it’s effortless, makes it even hotter. “Then what kind of girl are you?”
“One who is …” she trails off and is silent for a minute too long.
Maybe I said something wrong.
“One who’s kind of scared she’s following a murderer to his burial site,” she jokes, but there’s a tenseness in her voice.
I assure her, “I’d never kill someone as pretty as you.”
“Says the guy who was an asshole to a complete stranger?”
“I deserve that. You caught me at a pretty bad time.”
“So, you mentioned before. You aren’t normally so rude?”
“No, I am,” I admit. “But I try to keep it in check.”
“You should try better.”
“You’re right.” I sway around the Thorn subject, “October is a hard month for me.” I flick the light up to her. No reaction. “We’re going to The Landing.”
That gets a reaction: her face goes blank for a second as she halts. “Uh? Like, land on the ground? Or rocks? Or you know—splat?” She uses both hands to demonstrate the word.
“I thought you weren’t afraid of cliffs.”
“I’m not a fan of crashes,” she confesses. “Or broken glass.”
“How come?”
“I don’t know.” Not a single breath between those words. Interesting.
“You don’t know or you don’t want to talk about it?” She bites the inside of her lip, and that’s my signal to shut up about the subject. “It’s called The Landing because the woman, who used to live in the castle, would wait for her lover when he came back from sea.”
“Oh…” She steps forward, and we reach the gate at the end of the path. “It’s locked?”
I pass the phone to her. “Hold this.”
She does and aims it at the lock. “Kai, we aren’t going to jump this or break in, are we?”
I pull my wallet out and retrieve the key, holding it in the air within the light. “We could, but I could just unlock it.”
“How did you get that?”
“The astronomy class uses this path to head down to the beach for class sometimes.”
“You take Astronomy?”
“I did, second semester of freshman year.” Easy A to keep up the G.P.A. “The professor gave me a key once to help him set up, and I made a copy.” I slide the key into the lock and unlock it.
“Of course you did.”
“I like being alone here. It helps me think. The beach gets crowded.” I open the gate and step out first. “There’s still about twenty feet to the rock’s edge, so there’s plenty of space. Don’t be scared.” I hold my hand out and lead her to the right, where steps are carved out of the rock. “The steps are wide at the beginning, so don’t worry.”
“Right,” she grumbles, as she takes her phone out from her dress pocket and turns the flash light on. “Two are better than one, right?”
I grab her hand. Tingles erupt through me at the touch, but I’m afraid to grip tighter. The whole situation is delicate, not just her.
Taking the lead, I step down first,
and she follows.
“So…” she stretches out the word as we descend. “You come here a lot, to be alone?”
“I haven’t had much time this year, but yeah. I used to love coming here and getting away from everything. It’s a good place to think and clear your thoughts. Plus, really like the sound of the ocean.”
She stops as if just tuning into the sounds.
“It gets easier to hear when we reach The Landing.”
“It also seems like a good place to come to if you want to get kicked out or murdered.”
Umm. Weird like my Thorn. “Nah. I’ve got a key.”
“A stolen key.”
“You always so worried about what’s right and wrong?”
She harrumphs, and after a bit says, “Part of growing up the way I did. Not allowed to make many mistakes.”
“What mistakes could you possibly make?” We’re on the ninth step. “It gets steeper and narrower here. Be careful.”
“I just learned to be cautious growing up.”
So had Thorn.
I’ve reached the large stretch of flattened rock. She’s still holding my hand and trying to balance the phone while holding onto the wall.
“Shit!” she shouts as she slips.
“Whoa!” I catch her before she scrapes skin against the hard stone and hold her in my arms. “I got you.”
She clings to me, wrapping her hands around my neck and pressing her chest against mine. Her breaths land at the dip of my neck. In the silence, all we hear are breaths and the sound of the ocean waves crashing against the shore or thrashing against the base of the rock.
Her breath hitches when I hold her tighter, as if she knows me. The soft breeze and the light from my phone thread through her hair, brightening the strands and making them look almost transparent while illuminating my face. If she looks, she’ll catch the smile I can’t shake off.
I know in my heart this is Thorn.
“You okay?” I ask, hesitantly backing away. Her phone had landed flashlight down and a ring of light surrounds it. Bending down to pick it up, I use my phone to check the condition of the screen. “It didn’t crack; maybe a little scuffed though.”
“I don’t have many people who call me on it.” She takes it from my hand and holds it low by her side; the light filters through the band of lace on her thighs.
Shit. I look away and prop my phone up on one of the steps before spreading out the blanket. “Welcome to The Landing.”
She steps back toward the interior of the cliff. “It’s really beautiful. But I’m not a fan of heights.”
Yes, Thorn?
“We’re not that far up from the ground,” I try to ease her nervousness. “I won’t let you fall. I promise.”
“Hmm?” She slips her feet out of her shoes and steps onto the blanket. “How are you going to do that?”
Proof it’s her. Thorn did that even in the freezing winter.
“Well, this blanket is our safe zone. So, don’t get adventurous,” I joke. There’s plenty of space and a safety net all around the cliff, but I don’t tell her that. I like having her close.
I slide my shoes off and join her on the blanket. She still feels tense. “We can climb down to the beach if you want. Another fifty or so steps, and we’ll be on the ground.”
She glances at me and places her phone parallel with the end of the blanket in front of us. “Here’s fine.”
I point to the phone. “Marking the safe zone?”
“Is there a safe zone here?” She leans closer to me and stretches her legs out in front of her, reminding me of the first time we kissed.
Mimicking her position, I do the same.
“Thanks for catching me.”
“Welcome.”
“I bet this place is beautiful at sunset.”
“It is.” I point toward the sky. “But it doesn’t beat the starry night. This is by far the best place on campus with the best views. Beach and sky. No roses though,” I slip it in.
But she doesn’t pick up on it. Not Thorn.
“I can see why… kind of steep and deadly, but breathtaking.” She sighs slightly as she looks upward. “Do you bring all your dates here?”
“No, I never brought a girl here before.” Girls are sneaky like that. They ask the same question in a different way to catch guys in a lie. Thorn never did that. Then again, innocence is often lost in a breath’s time. If she’s my Thorn and still breathing, a lot of things could have changed about her.
“I’m the only crazy one who followed you down a cliff?”
“Never wanted to share this place before.”
“Not even with Vanessa?”
“Especially not with Vanessa.”
“Ah…” she says.
“The heiress is not easy to be around.”
“But you were with her since freshman year? Three years is a long time.”
I bob my head. “It’s complicated, but I’m glad it’s over.”
“Then why are you so sad and angry?”
Unsure of how to tell her the truth, I smash my lips together. Her presence makes me happy and so fucking sad it hurts. Because somewhere between throwing pennies in the ocean and talking with Ledger at the Rugger Loft, I had convinced myself of a miracle. That she lost her memory.
How amazing would it have been for her to wake up without ever knowing pain? Without an inkling of what hatred felt like? Without anyone to remind her of the wretched life she had led: orphan, abused, unwanted, discardable—all words she once used to describe her life.
Thorn carried so much sadness inside her, that I admired every time she smiled. Admired the strength it took to lift the corners of her mouth, when every year she lived piled on as weights, tugging them down.
No one ever gets to journey through life without a little baggage, but how peaceful would it be to forget it existed? To survive without remembering the disaster. And if that’s what it is, and this scarless girl with no memories of me is the girl I had once fallen for, how much of an asshole am I to dredge up the past, life so graciously allowed her to forget?
“Is it because I remind you of the girl from your past?”
“Kind of.” I point toward the ocean. “It’s why I need this place. It’s easier to think without the human clutter.”
“I get that,” she admits and turns to me. “Are things clearer for you out here?”
My chest swells as I glance at her. She’s on her back, propping herself up on her elbows, hair touching the blanket as she looks up at the sky. She stares at the stars as if something’s written on them, and she’s trying to read the secrets of the universe.
“Little bit clearer,” I choke out through an obstructed throat. Too much emotion balled up in there. She catches me looking at my new favorite view—her—and I glance away. “How about you? Tell me something about yourself?”
She sits up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear while looking out toward the ocean. Both of us watch the ripples of the water, highlighted by the moonlight in the distance. I lean back on my elbows, the light of my phone bouncing off her diamond stud earrings.
Not that I had a doubt, but she obviously came from money. Maybe if she was my Thorn things were going well for her now. “Those are pretty,” I say, clearing the silence.
“What is?” She glances over her shoulder at me; the slight slant of her supple lips and the light hitting her face in all the right places clarifies the obvious.
“You are,” I say absentmindedly. Then catch myself, “I mean, your earrings are.”
She fingers them lightly, brushing her index finger over the diamond surface and twirling the back of it with her thumb. “My adopted father gave them to me.”
Adopted. “Nice gift.”
“Extravagant gift,” she corrects and glances away again. This time in the complete opposite direction. “I prefer simple things.”
Just like my Thorn. The conversation takes a serious tone, and I sit up. She chances a glance in my directio
n, and I catch the down-turned corners of her eyes in the light.
“Like what?” The lace band rides up her thigh. Again, I force myself to look away. She doesn’t need me peeping through her skirt when she’s trying to have a serious conversation.
“Like pennies.”
Wait. “What?” I choke out.
She smiles and points to her dress. “Peonies. They’re one of my favorite flowers.”
“Oh. For a second I thought you meant pennies.”
“Kai?” She focuses on the blanket in front of her, tracing the letters of the insignia and prolonging the wait.
“Yeah?”
“You… Do you still… Never mind.” She smiles softly at me, tilting her head and arching her brows.
“Don’t get shy on me now.” I interlace our fingers and hold our hands up between us, using it as an excuse to get a little bit closer to her. “Do I still what?”
Her slightly open mouth pronounces the dip of her bottom lip, and I’m convinced she’s expelling the silent words through the hitched breaths escaping her mouth. With my free hand, I tilt her chin upward, and this time, softer and desperate for her words, I ask again, “What is it you wanted to say?”
“I’m different,” she blurts out, and I imagine hearing the word ‘now’. Immediately, she lowers her gaze.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” I cup her cheek and brush my finger over her cheekbone, watching for her reaction. She doesn’t move away or shy away from my touch. “I know you’re different, in a good way.”
She tries to stifle her smile, but she’s beaming through her eyes. My chest constricts, urging me to add a little bit of space between us, but I’m paralyzed in the moment. It’s not the first time a girl hangs on my words, but it is the first time I hang on hers.
“You think?” she leads, wanting an explanation.
I lift my hand from her cheek, and she instinctively closes her mouth, her bottom lip protruding out adorably. God, she’s even cute when she pouts.
So I lean forward, the tiniest of bits, and zone in on her gorgeous mouth before saying, “If you want to go fishing, there’s a spot somewhere over…” My finger waves in the air to my right, as I navigate to the imaginary fishing hole. “It’s called the compliment hole.”
