Weightless

by Gia Riley

  “I am now.”

  “Love you, beautiful.”

  Before I have a chance to toss his sweet words back at him, he dives under the water toward the deep end where the guys have a serious game of basketball going on. I watch for a few minutes, laughing as they argue over nonexistent rules. With the basket floating around in the water, anything goes unlike the traditional game where fouls are as important to the game as making a basket.

  It’s days like these that remind me how far I’ve come—all the freedom I’ve gained. We’ve been a couple for six months and still I hardly believe Kipton’s mine. I’m not sure how I got so lucky, but I don’t want to question it. All that matters is that we have each other, not how we got here—at least not anymore.

  I’ve accepted the fact that the past will never go away, but for once, my purging hasn’t been an issue or a third member in our relationship. Since forming a bond with my dad and checking out of inpatient therapy, my self-destructive behavior I’ve used as a crutch my entire life, has been at an all-time low. For once, I’m not the girl who’s sick all the time. I’m the girl who is living life, and experiencing new things with less fear.

  My progress has everything to do with being surrounded with an amazing support system and the result of a lot of hard work. I still see a therapist regularly here in Montgomery, and once I’m back on campus, I’ll see Michelle again for my weekly counseling sessions.

  Although I’m making steady progress, there are still parts of my life that I need to come to terms with. One summer of happiness doesn’t erase all the years of hell I’ve lived through. Despite that, I’ll do whatever it takes to continue on this path, and to remove whatever may inhibit me from reaching my goals—including cutting ties with my mom if it reaches that point.

  She and Dean are two of the reasons I became a depressive bulimic, and oddly enough, they’re two of the reasons I’ve come as far as I have. They’re a daily reminder of what I never want to become—a lying, cheating, selfish human being.

  The last time I spoke to either one of them was the day they dropped the bomb on me about my biological father. Despite cutting them out of my life entirely, the wound remains raw inside of me. I’ve forgiven my real dad, Coach Evans, and although we didn’t have as much time to bond over the summer as I would have liked, he’s still very much in my life. Lynn’s had him over for dinner a few times and he and I have been to dinner solo as well.

  What I thought would be awkward between us has been surprisingly natural. He doesn’t push or ask too many questions, so I’m able to stay present in the moment instead of dragging around a bag of guilt and animosity.

  Lynn was right, forgiveness is a powerful drug—one I’ve become addicted to as far as our relationship is concerned. Establishing an actual father/daughter relationship doesn’t change the years we lost, but allows us to appreciate the one thing we were deprived of—a loving bond.

  My therapist spent a lot of time hashing out my anger and resentment. All I ever wanted was a dad who taught me how to ride a bike, and when I fell off, kissed my scraped knee while my mom put a Band-aid over the cuts. When I turned sixteen, he would have taught me how to drive a car, and laugh along with me when I sucked at parallel parking.

  But that wasn’t our reality. I’ve never walked a day in his shoes when he was forced to make such tough choices, so all I can do is accept him for the man he is now while trying to forget about the important times I missed out on. I want this to work between us, and the only way it will is to move forward with an open mind and a forgiving heart.

  As productive as it’s been with my dad, the same can’t be said for my relationship with my mom. No matter how hard I try to understand the world through my mother’s eyes, I can’t. Every day that passes, I wonder how she could believe Dean was the better option as a father figure—an alcoholic who cheated, lied, fought, and bullshitted his way through life.

  A man who destroyed me.

  Anything she could have offered would have been a better choice, yet she stuck around because she too was addicted to the idea of the man she wished he would be. The one she had a glimpse of from time to time but always disappeared into a bottle of whiskey.

  But what I feel goes beyond anger or resentment. More than anything, I’m scared for her. When Dean drinks, he morphs into an evil monster, breaking her down until all that’s left is an empty shell of a woman. One that gave up her passion and career along with her happiness for a life of false promises in an abusive home. Stripped of her freedom, she’s as trapped in Dean’s addiction as he is—yet she can’t walk away.

  Her love for him remains twisted and misguided, a sad addiction of her own.

  “SOPHIE,” CARA SHOUTS FROM THE side of the pool. “Paddle over here so I can hop on.”

  I do my best to splash my way over to her, and thanks to a shove from behind, the raft floats right to her like I planned it. But with little warning, Cara jumps on top of the raft, almost launching my body right into the water. “Shit! Sorry, Sophie!”

  “Thanks for not landing on my head.” I wipe water droplets from my eyes, the combination of the chlorine and suntan lotion burning.

  “You were a million miles away, Sophie. I must have called your name ten times before you heard me.”

  “Sorry, I zoned out.” I inch down on the raft, using my hand to toss some water on top of the warm plastic so it doesn’t burn my body. The afternoon sun is intense.

  “How are you doing with everything?” Of course when I’m counting on her to make me laugh, she wants to have a serious conversation.

  “With what?” I question, hoping if I play dumb she’ll change the conversation. But I don’t get that lucky. She jumps straight to the point.

  “Leaving my brother. I saw the look in your eyes this morning at breakfast—the sadness.”

  I thought I was masking my emotion well, but it’s getting harder and harder to talk about leaving the closer we get to packing up and saying good-bye. “As good as I can be, I guess. I’ll miss him. We’ve always been in the same place at the same time. Well except the time I went home for Thanksgiving break, and ended up alone in a treehouse.” That was the night Kipton found me wrapped up in a sleeping bag, huddled in the corner. As hard as that night was, it was the catalyst in a line of changes that would reshape my life—for the better.

  Cara reaches over and locks our hands together. “Sophie, you won’t be alone. I promise.”

  I believe her—not because I have to, but because in my heart I know I have people who care about me. “I’m not alone, but at the same time, he’s all I have that’s mine.”

  “That’s not true. You have me, hooker.”

  I may roll my eyes at her, but she’s exactly what I need today. And she’s right, she’s my family in all the ways that matter.

  “The plan changed, but we’ll still have a great time, Sophie. I’m the epitome of fun. I’ve practically invented the word, ya know.”

  “I know.” Kipton was supposed to live with us in the apartment. But after graduation, he scored a great job teaching physical education at his Alma mater. He was hesitant to accept at first, knowing we had already discussed him taking a position at a school closer to campus, but after the deal was sweetened with a coaching position on his high school wrestling team, there was no way he could turn down the offer. Kipton is already respected for his accomplishments as a state wrestling champion in the Montgomery community. Now he gets to experience his dream of teaching and coaching. He gets the best of both worlds, and I couldn’t be more proud him.

  A part of me was worried when he first told me the news. His first year of teaching would be stressful enough without the added pressure of coaching, but he assured me the distraction would be good for him. Turns out he’s worried about missing me as much as I know I’ll miss him.

  After that confession, there was no way I could be mad at him for changing our plan. I’ll always support him one hundred percent on his decision.

  “It
’s only nine months total, Sophie. Plus, you’ll be home with him during the holiday breaks. There’s a bunch of those, and as busy as we’ll be, it’ll go fast. I promise.”

  “Did summer go fast for you?”

  Her laughter becomes infectious as her sarcastic tone builds. “No. It sucked ass, and I want my boyfriend back.” At least she’s honest. Not that it helps her case any.

  “Then how is nine months going to fly for me?” I ask with a laugh of my own.

  “I’m trying to look on the bright side. Would you rather I told you how awful it’s going to be?”

  I heard her crying a few nights when I got up to use the bathroom. It took all I had not to crawl into her bed with her so she wouldn’t be alone, but I knew sometimes they talked into the early hours of the morning, and I didn’t want to interrupt the only time they had.

  “All I know is, right now, nine months apart seems like a lifetime. You can make a human in that amount of time.”

  “You’re so sickeningly in love,” she giggles.

  “Says the girl who kisses a picture of Drew every night before bed.”

  She sits up quickly, almost flipping the raft. “Have you seen him! Ugh, those lips. The things they do to me. You know this one time–”

  I reach up and cover her mouth with my hand. “Uh uh, no way. I think you need to go cool off.” She’ll probably make me pay for this at some point today, but I lean over and push her off the side of the raft anyway.

  She pops up with her mouth hanging open “Sophie! The water went up my nose,” she yells. That’s my cue to get the hell out of the pool before she retaliates.

  “Who’s hungry?” Lynn asks from the edge of the deck.

  Perfect timing.

  THE SUN’S BEGINNING TO SET as Kipton lights the fire pit. Lynn makes another appearance to drop off everything needed to make s’mores. She knows the gooey dessert is my new favorite. Having never roasted a marshmallow or tasted a s’more before, Cara and Kipton practically fell off their chairs when they found out. To them, it’s a summertime staple and a huge part of their childhood. They even remember the year they were finally old enough to hold their own stick over the fire without help.

  I may have missed out on s’mores, but they’ve done everything in their power to make sure I’m not missing out on them now. As we add new experiences to my ever growing list, Kipton makes sure it’s a celebration. He can’t argue he had it all growing up, because he still does.

  It doesn’t matter that it’s taken so long to experience some of life’s little pleasures, and it doesn’t even matter that it’s not with my own family. Because like Kipton always reminds me, a house is four walls and a roof. It’s the people inside who make it a home. They don’t have to be your blood, but they have to have your heart.

  I couldn’t agree with him more. Thankfully, despite all I didn’t have, I had four walls and a roof. Yet the family inside was nothing like the sitcoms I watched every night before bed. I longed for a life I saw other little girls living on cable. As I grew older, I learned those shows were scripted—meaning the people were told how to act, and what to say. I was devastated, and gave up on my dream of ever experiencing a similar reality. Like I always knew, that much happiness just wasn’t possible.

  “Ouch!”

  “How could that possibly hurt?” Cara asks as she laughs at my expression. “It was a damn marshmallow.”

  Watching the others sink their teeth into the gooey marshmallow makes my stomach growl. “Kipton, can you pass me your stick when you’re done.” Kipton looks over his shoulder and raises an eyebrow, his mind always in the gutter. Rolling my eyes, I extend my hand. “The stick, please.”

  He doesn’t hand it over. Instead, he licks melted chocolate off his lip, smiling when my eyes fixate on his mouth. To be that chocolate. “You know you don’t ever have to beg. I’m a sure thing, beautiful.”

  Everyone sitting around the fire laughs at him, and briefly I’m embarrassed, but I shrug it off with a laugh. I hold up my marshmallow and ask, “Will you toast me, please?”

  Again, he raises an eyebrow, and sits down next to me on the blanket. I think he’s going to stay there, until he lifts me from my spot and sets me in his lap. “We can do it together.” He places the stick in my hands before wrapping his own around mine. Leaning close to my ear he whispers, “but I plan to do a lot more than this tonight.”

  I shiver despite being warm inside my very own Kipton cocoon. My mind imagines all he has planned for our last night together, and suddenly I’m ready to go inside.

  “Does that sound good, Sophie?”

  I nod my head. “Yes.”

  He pulls my bikini strap off my shoulder, kissing the skin underneath. “You got sun today.” He kisses the same spot again. “And you smell like coconuts.”

  I snuggle closer to him, squirming in his lap. He holds a marshmallow in front of my mouth, enticing me even more. I take a bite before it has a chance to cool. I like them a little burnt and extra gooey. “That’s so good,” I mumble around a messy bite. Some of the marshmallow sticks to my lips, but before I can lick it off, Kipton turns my head and licks it off himself. “And you taste like sugar.”

  I have to close my eyes and hold myself back. All I want to do is push him onto his back, and kiss him in front of everyone. For once, I don’t give a damn about who might see us.

  “You ready to go inside, Sophie?” His tongue finds the sensitive skin below my ear lobe where he sucks gently yet hard enough that I can’t sit still. I wiggle around in his lap, speechless as his mouth continues to work its magic. “Is that a yes?”

  “Yes. Your bed or mine?” That’s all I’m concerned about right now.

  “Yours. It’ll only be harder to sleep in mine tomorrow after having you in it tonight.”

  Turning around in Kipton’s lap, I stare into his teal eyes that are left with a hint of redness after a day spent in the pool. Redness and all, they’re the same eyes that have pulled me out of my darkness. The ones I’ve gotten lost in too many times to count.

  He stares back at me, licking his lips before concentrating on my mouth again. I meet him halfway, kissing him softly. “I’ll miss sharing a bed with you,” I mumble against his mouth. He places a soft kiss over each of my eyes, the tip of my nose, and my lips before pulling away. Cupping my face tenderly in his hand, the intensity of his gaze makes my heart race. He wouldn’t have to say a single word right now. The look alone tells me everything I need to know, but he does anyway.

  “I love you, Sophie.” Gone is the playful boyfriend I’ve had fun with all day. In his place is the kindest most passionate guy I’ve ever known. One that cherishes me, seeing me as a gift instead of an object.

  He protects what’s his.

  I had convinced myself for years that I didn’t need a man to make me happy. That my future was mine to do with as I pleased because freedom was the ultimate prize. But once I met Kipton, I knew I had it all wrong. I need a happily-ever-after like all the fairytales, and if there’s anyone in this world who can give it to me, it’s him.

  “I love you too, Kipton.”

  I drag my nails through his five o’clock shadow, holding his jaw in the palm of my other hand. He stares into my eyes with more determination and passion than I’ve ever felt in my entire life. We’ve had some intense moments, but this one, it’s different.

  Our lives are shifting, path’s parting in opposite directions, and I pray we have what it takes to make a long distance relationship work. Life is so much sweeter with him than without. So much so that I need words of reassurance that being separated won’t end us. Because it would end me. I’m certain of it.

  “Promise me we’ll be okay,” I say barely above a whisper. The last thing I wanted to do was break down tonight, but when the tears pool in my eyes, it only takes one blink of my lashes for them to spill over onto my cheeks.

  “Beautiful, don’t be sad. It kills me when you cry. Especially when I can’t make it better.”

/>   “No. I’m okay,” I sniffle. “I need to know what you’re thinking. I mean, it makes it a little easier knowing you’ll miss me too, but it still hurts.”

  “Was there ever a doubt that I wouldn’t miss you?”

  I shake my head. “Of course not.”

  “I’ll miss the ever loving shit out of you, Sophie. You’re mine no matter how many miles are between us, okay?”

  With more hope in my heart, I tell him, “Okay.” He’s my everything. When I’m with him I’m free. I breathe easier, and the world is a little brighter.

  He sighs in relief, but I’m his without a shadow of a doubt. I have been since we met, and I will be forever.

  “No more tears, beautiful.” He kisses each tear stained cheek before a devious smile stretches across his face. I’ve seen it before, and when I do, we always end up naked. “Just think of all the hot phone sex we can have.”

  With my nose stuffy from crying, my laugh comes out as a snort. In true Kipton fashion, he has the ability to make me laugh even when my heart is begging me to cry. “You’re crazy, but okay.”

  “Yeah?” He looks like a kid in a candy store.

  “You’re surprised?”

  “Majorly. I didn’t think you’d go for that. I was sure I’d have to beg a little.” He hikes up his T-shirt, using the bottom corner to dry the rest of my tears that have fallen. “There. That’s better.”

  Kissing the tip of his nose, I tell him, “I’ll do whatever it takes to feel close to you.”

  He laces his fingers with mine and kisses my promise ring. “I promised you, Sophie, and I won’t let you down. You’ll never go to bed at night without hearing how much I love you. You and I, we’re forever.”

  His new promise pushes away my worries. We can do this. We’ll only fail if we don’t try, and right now, we’re both one hundred percent invested for all the right reasons. “Forever.”

  He stands up from our cozy spot on the blanket and pulls me along with him. All of our guests are long gone. Even Cara’s nowhere in sight. “Now let’s go to bed, woman, so I can love you one last time.”