Where the Mountains Meet the Sea

by A. R. Breck

  I'd get letters. The beginning weeks and even the first couple of months consisted of my mailbox being stuffed with letters upon letters from Roman. Love letters, really. Small trinkets that he'd find and mail to me. Things he knew I'd love to see. Promises of places that we’d travel to when I would go on the road with him someday. Stories he'd tell, people he'd meet. The letters were filled with each moment of his life. He wanted to share those moments with me, and I swallowed every word, every curl of every letter. Every dot and period, every crease in the paper. I'd smell the letters, hoping for a small scent of him. A remembrance, something normal that I could hold on to. I'd feel the texture of the smooth paper, running my finger across the bumpy seal where I know he'd licked. I begged and pleaded for time to fly by.

  Unfortunately, time seemed to slow.

  Roman never made it home for Christmas. They were too busy in the recording studio to make the trip, their manager too strict and kind of a hard ass, Roman would say.

  Then New Year’s came, and I waited by my phone, curling the cord around my finger until my blood ran cold. Once the clock struck midnight, and the new year was here, I still hadn't received a call. I clutched my phone in my arms all night, waiting for the obnoxious ring and Roman's timbre voice to relax my frayed nerves.

  It never came.

  He called days later, telling me how chaotic things had been in California. Now they were getting ready to head out for another tour.

  I cried. I cried so hard through the phone he had to have felt the tears. He pled with me to stay strong, that nothing has changed between us. That before I knew it, we'd be together again.

  But now, here I am.

  I'm alone. I haven't heard from Roman in weeks. I know he's okay, because the local paper always loves talking about the local boy turned rock star. He's on tour, traveling and making friends and being famous.

  No phone calls. No more letters. Our connection has gone silent, just as my heart has. It no longer beats. My blood no longer pumps. I'm a walking zombie as I float through the days. Senior year in high school was supposed to be filled with happiness and good memories, but I barely remember a day of it.

  I'm so lost, I don't even know what tomorrow brings.

  I stretch my unused feet in front of me, feeling useless and sad. My body isn't as flexible as it once was. Just a few months without dance has turned my body into something it's never been before.

  The moment Roman left, my love for dance dwindled. Don't get me wrong, it's always been a part of me, and it always will be. I went to the studio for a long time after he left, trying with everything in me to get that strength, that power, that drive back that I've had in me for thirteen years. But the moment Roman left, it's like he took my ability to dance with him.

  I can dance just as good as I always have, but my heart isn't in it. My mind isn't in it. And ballet isn't a sport that you do half-assed. Do it with everything in you or don't do it at all. Ballet doesn't deserve me when I'm like this. My slippers don't deserve my blood and my leotard doesn't deserve my sweat. Not if my heart isn't in it.

  My heart isn't in it.

  It just makes me wonder, how Roman can be such a big impact on my life, but I'm such a little impact on his? If he can continue to sing and make music, but I can't even find it in me to tie my slippers around my ankles, were we ever soulmates at all?

  Is it possible that he's my soulmate, but I'm not his?

  The thought pulls me into a dark, dark pool of dread and tragedy, dark as my black hair. It curls around me like a cold blanket, and I chill.

  All the way to my soul.

  My toes curl in the cool lake, and I watch the minnows swim around them. They float up to my toes, getting a sense of what the unusual thing is floating in their home. I move my foot and they flitter away in the blink of an eye.

  The edges of my dress are damp, floating on the surface of the water as I kick my legs. My butt is planted on the end of Roman's dock, and I watch the sunset over the horizon. A few fishermen still linger about, creating small waves as they drive by. Mr. Sorenson from across the lake comes by in his pontoon, his grandkids sitting on the edge, half of their bodies suspended in air as they look at the water. Their bright orange life jackets choking them to death.

  My eyes flit back down to my toes.

  None of it matters anymore. It's all meaningless.

  It's been two weeks since graduation, and I still haven't heard from Roman. I sent him a letter with the date and time of the ceremony, and I figured he'd be there. I'd hoped, but now that weeks have passed, the hope is long gone that I mean anything to him at all.

  He's forgotten about me.

  My spine curls over, and I pull my legs from the water, curling my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around my shins. My head goes between my thighs, and I let out a silent cry, the never-ending flood of tears seeming to be turned on even though I so desperately want them to turn off.

  My fist clenches, the letter I wrote to him on graduation morning clutched in my fingers. I was going to give it to him the night that he got home. The letter that speaks about my undying love, and how I'll give up dance to go on the road with him.

  It's all meaningless now.

  I cross my legs over one another, wiping my eyes with my free hand as I straighten out the letter, staring at my dainty scrawl in front of me.

  Roman,

  I'm writing you this letter with shaky fingers. In only a few hours, I'll be able to hold you in my arms again. I'll be able to kiss you and see your face. It feels like it’s been forever. It has been forever. I've been waiting a full year, and I know with my heart and soul that a piece of me left with you that morning after prom.

  I don't want you to give it back to me.

  I just want you by me, and I know everything will be right again. I have some news that I've been waiting to tell you, but I can't hold it in anymore.

  I'm going on tour with you.

  I already have my bag packed, sitting at my feet as we speak. I don't want to dance anymore, not when it means being away from you. I want to tour with you, watch you sing, watch the arms of thousands of fans shake into the sky at your beautiful words.

  I want to listen to your voice blare through the microphone and float into the ears of hundreds, thousands, millions of people.

  I don't care where we go. Let's go everywhere. Across the country and across the world. It'll be worth it as long as I'm with you. I want to travel the universe and experience this journey with you.

  I'm ready, and I don't want to wait another second.

  I can't wait to give you this letter tonight.

  I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you.

  I love you, Roman.

  Now and always,

  Your Luna.

  A tear drops onto the middle of the heart right next to my name, blurring the ink and breaking it into two pieces. It's fitting, really, and it's exactly how I'm feeling right now.

  I bend down, placing the letter in the lake. The water swallows it up quickly, wetting the center of the paper before it seeps onto the edges. Half of it falls underwater, bobbing up and down as it turns translucent. And then it floats away, taking the rest of me with it.

  I'm a shell of the person I used to be. It feels like I was never a person at all. Not really, anyway. Like I was an addition to Roman, and now that he's gone, I'm a box without the contents. I'm a shell of a human.

  The dock rocks, footsteps vibrating all the way to me from up on land. I turn around, seeing Nora walking up to me. She has that sad look on her face. The same face I've been looking at for the past year.

  "Hey, what's up?" she asks, coming to sit next to me. She grabs her sandals with her hands, placing them on the dock beside me and dipping her own toes in the water.

  I wipe my face, tucking my hair behind my ears as I look at her. "Just enjoying the sunset." I clear my throat, hating how full of tears it sounds.

  "You don't have to pretend you weren't cryin
g, Luna. It's all you've been doing for a year. Everyone knows."

  I tip my head toward the cloudless sky, blinking away the tears that instantly spring to my eyes. I let out a groan. "I'm so tired of crying. I feel so weak."

  "You aren't weak. You're just in love," she says softly, rubbing her hand down my arm.

  "Have you heard from him?" I ask, bringing my head back down and looking into the distance. A bald eagle flies over the trees, and I wish I was as effortless as him. I wish we could fly through the trees together. Maybe I'd just fly away. Never come back.

  "No. None of us have," she sighs. "I'm sure we'll hear from him soon, though. There has to be a reason he hasn't reached out."

  I shrug. "Doesn't matter too much anymore."

  "What do you mean?" I look at her, seeing her heavy frown directed my way.

  I bend down, dipping my fingers in the water. Creating a ripple, I make a constant figure eight. Over and over again, I watch, entranced as the water tornados around my fingers.

  "Luna?"

  I sit up, looking over at her. "I'm done crying about him, Nora. I can't keep doing this."

  She nods. "I know." Leaning over on one butt cheek, she brings her hand to the back pocket of her shorts and pulls out a white squared paper. My heart drops, thinking it may be a letter from Roman. "I was just down at Coffee Joe's and saw this flyer. I thought of you instantly.”

  I take it from her, keeping it folded up. "What is it?"

  She nods her head toward it. "Take a look."

  I wipe my wet fingers on my dress and unfold the paper, seeing blue skies and oceans and palm trees.

  "What is it? A vacation? I don't even have a job. I certainly can't go on vacation. I don't have the money."

  She rips the paper from my hands. "Well, you'll never know what it is if you never read the fricken words. It's a once in a lifetime opportunity. This company in Hawaii is offering young people to come live on their farm for free. You work on their farm and get paid a little, but otherwise you get free housing, and hello, it's Hawaii. I'd take it myself if I wasn't leaving for Madison in a month."

  I take it from her, finally reading the words. She's right. It's a once in a lifetime opportunity. Doing manual labor on a farm, but in exchange, I get to live in Hawaii for free. I even make a little extra money from it. All I need is a plane ticket to get out there, but this past year I've saved enough from dog walking and babysitting. I'm sure I can find a way to get a one-way ticket out there.

  "I think I'm going to take it," I breathe, finally feeling like I have something to look forward to. "This actually sounds like a really good idea."

  Her eyes go wide. "Oh my God, really?" She stands up with me, "Please don't tell my parents or yours that I'm the one that gave you this idea. I think they'd all bury me at the bottom of the lake."

  They probably would. At least try.

  "I won't. I promise." I grab her for a hug, wrapping her in the first true hug I've given anyone since Roman left. Over a year ago at this point.

  It's almost like he never existed at all.

  "Oh my God. I'm actually really excited for this." I squeeze the paper in my fingers, such a different reaction to when I was squeezing a different paper in my hands only minutes before Nora showed up. "I'm going to go talk to my parents."

  She cringes. "They're going to be so mad."

  I shake my head. "You know what? Maybe not. I've been so sad for the last year, maybe they'll be happy that I'm finally excited over something."

  She smiles at that, her face brightening against the setting sun. "Yeah, you're right. That makes me happy, too." She wraps me in another hug before stepping back to head down the dock. The wood is warm beneath my feet from the afternoon sun as I make way toward the sand. The water slaps against the bottom of the dock as it rocks from our movements. "I'll let you know how it goes."

  "Should I come rescue you if I hear screaming?"

  I roll my eyes, "I'll talk to you tomorrow!"

  I run to my house, the bottom of my wet dress slapping against my ankles as I run into the front door. I let the screen door slap against the frame, and it startles my mom and dad from their spot on the couch. "Hey, honey, what's wrong?"

  I walk up to them, sitting on the coffee table between them and handing them the piece of paper.

  My mom grabs it, not looking down at it as she stares at my face.

  The excitement.

  "What's going on?"

  "Read it."

  They bend down, reading the words. Heads bent together. Eyes roaming in the same rotation. I watch their eyes read it. Once. Twice. Three times before they look back up to me.

  "What are you trying to say?" my dad asks, taking his glasses off and setting them next to me on the table.

  "I want to do this." I tap the top of the page with my fingers. "I want to go to Hawaii."

  "But…" my mom starts.

  "How will you get there?" my dad asks, "You know we don't have that kind of money to get you a plane ticket to Hawaii."

  I shake my head. "I have some money saved."

  "You do know you have to fly to California and then to Hawaii, right? There are no direct flights from Wisconsin to Hawaii. It's going to be an expensive ticket."

  My fingers fall from the paper into my lap. I didn't think about this. But I'm determined, and for the first time in a year, I'm actually looking forward to something. I want to hang onto the last shred of humanity I have left in me. This beating heart in my chest feels alive, like it's awakening after a long sleep. The creakiness in my body after being stiff for so long. I feel new, alive.

  I have to do this.

  "I want to do this. Please, guys." I put my hands in the prayer pose.

  My dad sits against the back of the couch, folding his arms across his chest, and glances at my mom.

  She has tears in her eyes. "Is this about Roman? Because—"

  I whip my head from side to side. "No. For once in my life, this is about me."

  "But what about dance?" She dabs her wet eyes with the back of her hand. "Ballet has been such a huge part in your life. You just want to throw that away?"

  "I think dance is a part of my past." My own throat starts to close up, and I clear my throat to rid the emotion. "I'm ready for a fresh start."

  She blows out a shaky breath between her teeth, handing me back the piece of paper. "When would you leave?"

  "Right away. Next week, probably." Obviously, I need to figure out the finer details, but getting away from here is what would be best for me and my health. Sitting here and moping over a guy isn't doing me any favors. I need to start over. It's time I find myself.

  She nods her head, turning toward my dad. "What do you think, Charlie?"

  He wraps his arm around her, pulling her against him. He knows she's having a hard time with this, and so do I. "I'm okay with it if you are. She's an adult now. I think if she wants to go and experience life, we can't stop her."

  My mom looks back at me. "You'll talk to me all the time? Send me emails and call?"

  Tears spring to my eyes, the reality of what I'm choosing smacking me in the face. "Of course." I lean over, wrapping my arms around the both of them. "All the time."

  "Then, okay. We're okay with it," Mom says.

  I fold the paper up and stand up from the table. "Thank you. Thank you! I'm going to go look some stuff up on the computer." I head to Harper's room, which has been converted into a guest room slash computer room. It takes a while to log on, since our dial-up internet is so terrible out here, but I find a Greyhound that leaves here in a week, heading to California. From there, I can take a flight out to Maui. It's the cheapest route and would save me a little money along the way.

  By the time I shut down the computer, my body is humming with excitement. The hair on my arms stick straight up on my entire body, actually.

  One week.

  One week, and my life begins again.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  ROMAN

 
The yellow taxi hops off the highway, and I'm instantly hit with nostalgia. It's been a long time since I've been in my hometown. A long time coming.

  I was hoping to get home a while ago, but tour stop after tour stop, and things couldn't be avoided. That, and our van broke down in Iowa. The guys are there, but I couldn't wait anymore. I had to get home. I have to talk to my family, and I have to see Luna. It's been too long. Every time I'm about to pick up the phone and call her or get a piece of paper out to write her a letter, I get pulled in a different direction.

  I know I'm in the wrong. I made a promise that I kind of fell off on, but once she hears how busy I've been, how popular we're becoming, and how busy things are going to be in the upcoming months, I know she'll be happy for me. She'll be proud that I've finally made it.

  I'm hoping she is ready to move out to New York with me. I'm planning to let the guys take over the rent fully in our little apartment in Los Angeles, and me and Luna can go live in New York. I'll come stay with the guys whenever I need to be in town, but I always want to come back to Luna. That's the plan, at least.

  I just want to be with her again.

  This last year has been crazy. Women fawn over our band. The number of topless and naked women I’ve seen begging for a piece of us, a piece of me…

  I shake my head.

  The guys love it. It makes me wonder if this is the type of stuff my dad deals with when he's on tour. Naked women throwing themselves at him.

  Not only women, but the drugs. They’re hardcore.

  In Wisconsin, we deal with weed, we deal with alcohol, but hard drugs are hard to come by in our sleepy town. We don't have much crime. It's safe here. So, when I see lines of white powder left and right, or pink, yellow, and white pills, or needles filled with a brownish liquid, I barely know what to do with myself.

  I've dabbled, yes, but it's not really my thing. The guys are more into the women, and they like to do cocaine, but otherwise, we stay out of it. For the most part, at least.