Page 18 of Made for You

“I have so many questions right now.”

“I’ll answer them all. If there’s one thing I can promise, Josh, it’s total honesty. Which is why I wanted to tell you now, before this goes any further.” I whisper the next part. “Before my feelings get even stronger.”

His eyes glitter as he takes in my words. They don’t feel like the same eyes that took me in when I stepped out of the limo. Where there used to be warmth, there’s distance. It hurts, but I can’t show it.

“What are your questions?” I say.

“I mean...where to even start?” He launches in. He wants to know if I truly have emotions. If I age. If I can die. If I need food, sleep, if I can learn, have kids, get depressed.

Yes, yes, yes, I tell him. I try to explain about basic dampers in layman’s terms, those layers of programming that give me all the needs and weaknesses a normal human might have. The way food becomes energy just like it does for him. I try to explain everything calmly, reasonably, as if it doesn’t feel like he’s stripping off my skin and violently poking at all the painful mysteries that make me.

Finally, there’s a long silence. I can’t tell exactly what Josh is feeling, but based on the clench of his jaw, I’m pretty sure it’s not something soft and nice. Well, what I’m feeling isn’t soft or nice either. In fact, it’s a little devastating to realize that he’d like me better if my skin wasn’t synthetic. If I’d been fitted together by the mysterious dance of cells rather than the hands of human ingenuity.

It hurts just like yours, my skin, I want to assure him. I want to dig my nails into my arm and show him the red half-moons.

“I guess we should get back to the party,” he finally says. His smile is tight.

“Wait,” I say, reaching out. Covering his hand. Josh said he admires boldness in a woman, so here we go. “I get that there’s so much to process, but let me say one last thing. If you honestly believe things can never work between us, send me home. I mean it. But I promise you that the two of us have more similarities than differences. And I believe love is about two people getting...lit up by each other. I believe it’s a feeling so strong that nothing else matters. And I know we’re just getting to know each other, but...you light me up, Josh.” I place a hand on my heart, which is thundering for him. “With all my being, I want to prove that I’m just as capable of love as any of these girls. Put me to the test. Give me a chance.”

Looking into his eyes, waiting for his response, I feel a landslide in my chest. And despite the fact that I’m trying so hard to be calm and strong, a tear slips out, making a chilly track down my cheek.

“I just need a minute, sorry,” I say, looking down.

And then, he’s closing the inches that separated us. Thigh against thigh, he slings an arm around my shoulder and crushes me against him, resting his chin on top of my head.

“I’m sorry,” I squeak, pressing my face hard against his bare chest. Feeling his solidity, his warmth, his heart beating. “I hate that what’s scaring you is something I can’t change.”

“Shhhh,” he murmurs.

Zoe interrupts shortly after. I hear her enthusiastic opener, “Did you totally see when I lost my bikini top? Oh my God, it was hilarious—” before I’m abruptly left alone, trying to get a grip on the earthquake of emotions that’s shaking everything inside me. But I’m not alone for long. Five minutes later, Josh is back. And he’s twirling a rose between his fingers.

“Really?” I gasp.

“What can I say?” His coldness is gone; he’s all boyish flirtation. “You keep impressing me. What the hell. Let’s see what happens.” Then he kneels, in his swimming trunks with his messy hair and a big smile on his face. “Julia, will you accept this rose?”

I throw my arms around him.

His lips are suddenly on mine. My mouth opens against his. His tongue is warm, gentle as he explores my mouth, and I find my hand cupping the back of his neck to urge him deeper. When we pull away, I’m breathless.

His voice is low. “Was that your first kiss, Miss Julia?”

“Yes,” I say, lisping a little. My lips feel swollen. I’m liquid. There’s a warmth in my gut that’s the best thing I’ve felt in my life. It feels like each day I share with Josh unlocks some new feeling inside me, each more powerful than the last. I smile up at him. “May I have my second?”

NOW

The campsite, on the edge of Belmont Ridge County Park, is tucked into a wooded area. Bright as it is with the fresh spring green of trees, it has an ominous feel. Too still, too peaceful, like something is holding its breath, waiting to pounce. Like instead of fleeing the predator, I’ve driven toward it.

I creep along the dirt road through spotted sunlight, leaning forward as if this will help me spot Josh. I pass a derelict shack marked CAMPER CHECK-IN, cement block restrooms streaked with water stains, and finally, the campsites themselves. Vaguely circular areas of cleared dirt, pocketed by brooding trees, each with its very own bolted-down, rust-eaten grill. The road weaves around, and suddenly—there. Up ahead. Josh’s army-green tent.

“Oh my God,” I breathe as I creep the car to the side of the road and put it in Park. I’ve been in a constant state of adrenaline this entire two-hour drive, and nothing feels quite real as I exit my car and cross the hard-packed dirt toward the tent. Will Josh be inside? Confused as to why I’m so freaked out? I totaled the car, Julia...didn’t you get my text? Service is so bad out here...

The trees rustle nervously. No; he won’t be in the tent. I’m not totally delusional. In fact, I’m pretty sure that on my way here I passed the spot where his car ran off the road, marked by two Belmont County Sheriff cars with their flashers on and a small hub of human activity that has to be the search party. Still, I can’t help a soft “Josh?” as I unzip the tent and step into the musty interior.

Empty. Of course. There’s a metallic tang in my mouth. Hope tastes bitter on the way out.

I zip the tent closed again behind me. There’s another tent kitty-corner from this one, and I don’t want to be observed.

“Okay,” I whisper as I take in the scene.

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