Fireflies Glow Only in the Dark
Page 8
“They just make me happy.”
He clicked his tongue. “I’m not really a book lover. I prefer to trust my own experience, not words written by someone I don’t know and have never met.”
“You don’t necessarily have to trust them in order to enjoy it,” I protested.
“How’s that?”
“There’re things worth taking on faith. Only then can they show you that you were right to believe in them in the first place,” I said.
“And what if I wasn’t?” Max asked.
“You lose nothing. Close the book and go on with your searching. Otherwise, how will you find what is right for you?”
He chuckled. “You know what? I want you to read me something.”
“Are you serious?”
“We’ll see if you’re right. What are you reading now?”
“Dostoevsky.”
“Go ahead.”
“Oh… um, I don’t know. Dostoevsky is… advanced.”
“I think I can handle it.” His little half smile was practically audible.
“It’s not really beginner level stuff.” I found my voice take on a teasing tone.
“I like to be challenged.”
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
“Is it that difficult?” He laughed.
“Actually, it is. Hold on, it’s gonna be a rough ride.”
“Consider me intrigued.”
I turned on the light, fluffed the pillows, settled in comfortably, and opened the book. At first, my nervousness put a cramp in my reading. I took long pauses and stumbled over words, but eventually reading consumed me. I forgot about having Max on the phone and began to read with intonation, reacting emotionally to what was happening in the book.
“Wait, Lana, I’m a little confused,” Max said as I stopped to regain my breath. “So, the main character deliberately committed the crime…”
“That’s right.”
“And now what? He’s going to surrender to the police?”
“To repent.”
“How many pages are there?”
I skipped to the back of the book. “Over five hundred,” I said.
“Wow.” Max whistled. “What else could you possibly write about for five hundred pages?”
“You want me to tell you?”
“Not really. I’m curious about how it will end.”
“We’ll have to spend many more nights to get to the ending,” I said with a short laugh.
“I don’t have any problems with that,” Max replied.
I smiled and continued reading.
***
The next day I woke up completely refreshed, as if I hadn’t stayed up reading until dawn. I jumped to my feet and started circling around, humming a tune. My musical accompaniment wasn’t good enough for such a beautiful morning. I took my headphones out and let some indie rock play on my music player. Just perfect.
Nature seemed to have finally figured out it was the second half of summer and got back on schedule. Birds chirped right outside my window, and a breeze was carrying the scent of petunias and violets. I sighed and blissfully stretched my shoulders.
Max was going to pick me up soon, so I had to hurry. I opened my wardrobe and scoured through the shelves. All my things were neatly stacked and sorted: sweaters on the top, jeans and trousers below, T-shirts and underwear at the bottom.
I loved putting things in order, especially in my wardrobe. When we first moved in, my room represented a pitiful sight: bare walls, a fold-out cot our neighbors lent us, and this giant wood wardrobe. Back then, I used to climb inside, close the doors, and sit like that for hours, breathing in the smell of pine. These days, however, I couldn’t fit even if I tried.
My gaze focused on the mirror. A heavily sigh escaped my chest; my body wasn’t on the same page as my mind. With concealer in my right hand and foundation in the other, I somehow managed to cover up the dark circles under my eyes. Then I applied matte lipstick and used this creepy thing Mel gave me for curling lashes. After a little touch of powder, everything was done. I took one last critical look in the mirror and left my room.
***
A pebble bounced off the water three times then drowned silently. Max applauded. “Nice shot!”
We sat on the pier with our legs dangling over the lake, squinting against the bright sunlight. Drops of sweat trickled down my back. The cold wind became so common that summer that I wore a sweater out of habit, and I already regretted it.
“Let’s find some place with shade,” I said.
“Should we go somewhere we haven’t been yet? Like downtown or something?” Max asked.
“Not a good idea.”
“Why’s that?”
“There’s no downtown in this city. We’re already experiencing the best thing about Lakewood—nature.”
“You really don’t like your hometown, do you?” he said, throwing a pebble in the lake. It flashed in the sun and disappeared under the water with a small gurgling sound.
“No, I love it here.” I sighed. “I’m just… suffocating. Seems like the sweltering heat my body feels today is what’s going on with my soul too.”
“How bad?”
“Intolerably,” I said with a sad smile.
Max opened his mouth to say something but then stopped short. His eyebrows were high on his forehead as his eyes focused on something behind me.
I turned around. Two little foxes had come out of the woods ten feet away from us. They froze on the spot with only their ears twitching. The fox standing closest to us was much bigger than its partner in crime. They had noticed us long before we saw them, their long, narrow snouts wiggling up and down as they sniffed our scent. Their mouths were open and their tongues hung out, twitching from their rapid panting.
The bigger fox set a foot on the sand cautiously. The hot sand must have been burning her paws. She took off and rushed to the lake. After a moment, both foxes flopped into the water, making strange guttural sounds that resembled a cross between a squeal and a bark. We quickly passed by them, not wanting to spoil their party, though our caution wasn’t necessary; they were so overwhelmed by the water they’d quickly forgotten about us.
As we walked and the last house disappeared behind the trees, Max looked back and stopped, pondering something. He squatted next to the lake and put his hands into the water. “I guess we should follow the foxes’ lead,” he said, looking up at me.
“I thought about that too.” I nodded, and added with a sigh, “I wish I could.”
“What’s wrong?”
I glanced at him. “I don’t have a T-shirt on under this.”
“Then swim in your sweater,” Max suggested.
“It’s cashmere. The minute I come out of water it’ll shrink and fit a small child.”
Max smiled. He hesitated for a little but then his smile widened, accompanied this time by the mischievous sparkles in his eyes.
“I don’t like where this is going,” I murmured.
Luckily, he either didn’t hear me or didn’t pay any attention… or both.
“How about this,” he said, getting up and standing next to me. “I turn around and close my eyes. You go into the water. When water reaches your shoulders, call me. I promise I won’t cheat.”
“I don’t like that smile,” I said, squinting at him.
He laughed. “What, I can’t smile now?”
“Sure you can, but…” I tried to make up something meaningful but eventually stopped short. I spread my arms wide and sighed.
Max nodded. “All right then. I’m turning around.”
I looked at his back in a daze. I still didn’t believe I was actually signing up for this. My heart beat like a cornered bird’s. Raising my arms above my head, I took off my sweater carefully. My gaze was glued to Max’s swaying shoulders. I could hear him whistling something under his breath. I plucked up all the courage I had left and got rid of my sneakers. Taking a deep breath, I stood in only my jeans and bra.
<
br /> I didn’t know where to put my hands; they’d become strangers to me, hanging awkwardly as if separate from my body. I crossed them over my chest and moved forward.
The water licked at my feet. It wasn’t as cold as I imagined. I kept moving. When it reached my hips, I let go and plunged in up to my neck.
I turned around. Max was dutifully standing with his back facing the lake. I laughed, watching his lonely figure wait patiently for me to call him.
“Come here!” I shouted, not stopping to laugh.
Max turned around and pulled his sneakers off. With a long, joyful cry he ran to the lake, water splashing up with his first steps in. He was so childish sometimes, and I was glad for it. Something about the way his face lit up when he was being silly, in those rare, precious moments, made me know he was real.
His smiling face bobbed up next to me, splashing water everywhere, including my head. Laughing, I pushed him to the side and flicked my wet hair out of my face.
“Gosh, this is a dream!” he groaned.
I couldn’t have agreed more. Even though the sun was already on its way down to the horizon, the water had time to soak up the day’s heat, and the ratio of the temperatures was perfect. I kept an eye on the water so it would remain at my shoulders.
The playful mood was slowly replaced with something strange, something I couldn’t quite figure out. I didn’t want to laugh anymore. Max serenely floated on the water’s surface. His wet hair had darkened, and his pale skin was like marble, shimmering with each ripple of the water. I blushed and averted my eyes.
He slipped beneath the water. As his body turned into a yellow spot, I focused on it like I was in a hypnotic trance, watching it coming closer and closer until he came right up to me.
We stood in front of each other with only our heads above the water. A part of me wanted to back away, go and lock myself in the wardrobe just like when I was a little girl so those thoughts about Max would never reach me. But a bigger part of me wanted to touch him so badly that I froze on the spot, not daring to move in any direction. I lost myself, lost my confidence. God, I wished he knew it. I wished he noticed how my heart fluttered every time he looked at me with that half smile of his I loved so much.
A high-voltage jolt ran through my skin when he touched my hand. The fog in my mind cleared, leaving behind one simple thought: Kiss me.
Max touched my chin, lifting it up gently. He smiled and something flashed in his eyes. So, he could be shy too, it seemed. I sighed and relaxed.
He looked into my eyes, catching my reaction to every motion he made. His fingers slightly trembled as if he was holding back, afraid to hurt or frighten me. Max delicately moved his hand onto my forearm, then my shoulder, and finally cradled my neck. He wanted to pull me closer to his side but something prevented him from doing it. A muffled moan escaped my lips.
Max immediately lost it. His long, passionate kiss burned my mouth. His hands on my neck made me want him to hold me even tighter. I felt dizzy. Without breaking the kiss, he grabbed me by the hips and lifted me up. I wrapped my legs around him.
I don’t know how long we stood there; time had simply disappeared. After an eternity we pulled away from each other, and I laughed, amused by the joy with which my body responded to his every touch. Max gently ran his hand through my tangled, soaking hair. I lay my head against his shoulder. At that moment I knew I was happy… Because something meaningful blossomed in my heart.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
We crossed the beach and walked through the pine trees, stepping on the fallen pine cones. They broke apart under our feet with a crackling sound. Coming back home the same way we got there would be too boring, so I took Max through the forest. He bit his lip absent-mindedly, looking somewhere ahead of him, his squinted eyes unreadable.
My face still burned from his kisses. The confidence I had while melting in his arms had disappeared. I was seized by doubt. Why is he being so quiet and won’t even look at me? His hot breath and impulsive touch consumed my mind while I looked for the answer to his sudden change in behavior. Then these memories were replaced with something else, something vague and faraway as if it were a dream…
The full moon gleams in the sky. We’re standing behind Mel’s place, not taking our eyes off each other. I’m smiling, delight on my face as my fingers touch Max’s forehead, his cheeks, and then slide down to his lips. His mouth opens and soft kisses caress my fingers. His hot breath blows on my hands, keeping them warm.
Max leans into my face and whispers, “You’re my happiness, Lana.”
I gasped.
“What’s wrong?” Max asked, looking at me for the first time since we left the shore.
“I remember,” I said, trying to regulate my breathing. “I remember what you said that night.”
He stopped. “I started to think that moment was lost forever,” he said softly.
“And you…” I scrunched my eyebrows. “You meant that?”
“Of course.”
“But you never gave me an inkling to how you really felt.”
Max gave me his half smile. “I’ve never said things like that to anyone. Never. I thought you’d understand,” he said, adjusting the curl that had fallen on my face.
“I just didn’t want to be mistaken.”
“Believe me, you weren’t.” He pulled me into him and gave me a long kiss. I responded to the kiss with all the tenderness I could muster. Max pulled away a little and chuckled. “I never really got along with girls, but with you it’s even worse,” he said. “I feel like a lovesick teenager who doesn’t know how to behave.”
By the same thoughtful expression on his face that hadn’t changed since we left the lakeshore, I realized he wasn’t saying that to impress me. He just said what he thought of, not knowing how valuable this openness really was to me.
“You definitely don’t look like one,” I said, squeezing him gratefully.
Max ran a hand through my hair. His bracelet grabbed my attention. Two center beads diverged and converged every time his hand moved. The dusk light made the beads look red as blood.
“It’s beautiful,” I said, touching the bracelet. “Did someone give it to you?”
Max nodded then put his hand into his jeans pocket. “C’mon, it’s gonna be dark soon,” he said and led me forward.
The freshness of the forest and the warmth of Max’s hand on my shoulder made me dizzy. The pink haze in the sky filled the forest with fairy light. I was calm and peaceful.
Max’s phone started to vibrate. He frowned when he looked at it, but didn’t answer the call. We walked under the insistent buzzing for a few seconds more until the sound finally stopped. A sudden chill raced up my spine.
I opened my mouth to ask him who was on the phone, but he beat me to it. “Have you heard about a so-called Crown Shyness phenomenon?” he said. “I read about it. It’s when the trees branches simply don’t adjoin with each other. If you look at it from beneath, you’ll notice that the crowns create something like a puzzle, protecting their personal space.”
Unwillingly, I threw my head back and peered at the crowns of trees above us. “There’re only open-minded pines in this forest,” I said with a smile.
Max ruffled my hair gently. “You’re beautiful,” he said and kissed me on the lips.
***
Lights loomed somewhere ahead of us. The forest had come to an end, edged out by the narrow path. A streetlight to the right flickered. We walked in silence while the singing birds bid their farewells to the fleeting day.
An elderly couple walked past us on the other side of the street. They were arguing about something. The man struggled to remain calm. At first he couldn’t stop adjusting his eyeglasses. Then he straightened the hem of his shirt.
The woman wasn’t privy to his irritation. She gesticulated dramatically with both her hands, raising her high, nasally voice. I recognized them: Mrs. Cambage, my mom’s long-standing client, and her husband, who always accompanied her to the mall so
she could get senior discounts.
I had no desire to talk to them, but it was already too late. Mr. Cambage’s wandering look found me as a life raft; he waved his hands and hurried to our side of the road. Mrs. Cambage stopped talking mid-sentence, looked around, and noticed her husband had left. When she realized I was the reason he was no longer receiving her tongue lashing, she frowned and hurried to catch up with him.
Mrs. Cambage was an interesting woman. I once overheard her talking to my mom about my “strange unsociable demeanor”. I remembered her saying, “You’re spoiling your child, Martha. Mark my words, a child without proper education will sit on your neck, and then God help you and Thomas.” A whole month after that conversation, Mom tried her best to give me this mysterious education Mrs. Cambage spoke of. She was the one who got my parents to forbid me from seeing Mel.
“Good evening, sweetheart,” Mr. Cambage said as they got closer. “How is your mom doing?”
“She’s fine, thank you,” I replied in a polite yet cold voice.
“What a nice day! Clarice and I spent some good time together, didn’t we, sweetheart?”
Mrs. Cambage looked her husband up and down. “If the cap fits, wear it,” she said with a tight smile.
Mr. Cambage let out a high-pitched laugh and patted his wife on the shoulder. Mrs. Cambage’s eyebrows rose so high they threatened to freeze on her forehead forever, but she said nothing.
“She’s still upset over that Chinese tea service we never bought. Extremely tasteless thing and costs as much as our entire kitchen,” Mr. Cambage said. After a pause, he added with a conspiratorial wink,“Women…”
Max coughed, trying not to laugh. Mrs. Cambage’s head snapped toward him. “And you must be…”
“Max.”
“Nice to meet you, young man. How is it we’ve never met?” Mrs. Cambage stared at him with narrowed eyes.
He withstood her glare. “I’m not from around here,” he said.
Mrs. Cambage smiled, showing her unnaturally white teeth, and nodded. “I see. Well, we won’t hold you up any longer. See you both soon,” she cooed.
She took her husband by the arm and they left.