Page 14 of The Sun
“Is that why you came to the beach?”
“It is. I guess the universe wanted us to see each other, huh?”
“I guess.” I stared into his eyes, black under the moonlight, as I grappled with what to say. I couldn’t form words to express every thought I’d had of him every day since he’d left. Sometimes there are no words, only touches, so I hugged him again, resting my head on his shoulder while the warm water heaved and pulled around our feet. “I missed you,” I whispered.
“I missed us.” He combed his hand through my hair, and for a moment, I let his words suffocate me until it became hard to breathe.
Five years when you are a child is an eternity. Voices change. Faces age. But feelings, so it seemed, did neither. That pull deep in the middle of my chest that tethered me to him was still right there, firmly intact.
When we finally let go of one another, he took my hand and threaded his fingers through mine with a practiced ease, like he’d done it a thousand times. That was the first time since boys wereboysthat I had held hands with one. I liked the way his hand felt rough against mine and slightly bigger. How safe it was.
We walked to the shore and sat shoulder to shoulder on the sand, close enough that sometimes, when the waves crashed, the glowing water brushed our toes.
Elias pointed to the sea. “You ever seen it glow like that?”
“No. Have you?”
“Once. When I was about six, right before. . .” His brows lowered, and he drew in a hard breath. “Not too long before I went to my first foster home. Anyway, it’s called Poseidon’s Wheel.”
“Like the Greek God of the ocean?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yeah, sailors back in the day didn’t get the whole microscopic-plankton-that-glow in the water thing, you know? So they thought it was Poseidon causing the water to light up.” Laughing, he nudged me with his shoulder. “It’s pretty cool, though, to think that something like that was proof of God to people. Even if it was a god with a trident and a fishtail.”
I stared at him, taking in the straight line of his nose, his jaw.
“I think about you every day,” he said, turning to face me. Before I could tell him that I thought of him, too, he exhaled. “What time do you have to go home?”
I shrugged a shoulder. “Soon.”
Elias’ chin dipped to his chest, and he dragged his fingertip through the wet sand. A necklace swung loose from his collar when he leaned forward to make another design. The ring hanging from it caught under the moonlight. Without thought, I reached over and gripped it between my fingers. Stunned, I realized it was the sun to my moon. “You still have it?”
“Of course,” he said. “You still got yours?”
I held up my hand and wiggled my fingers.
Elias raked his teeth over his bottom lip, almost concealing a smirk. “Fits now, huh?”
“Yeah. Guess yours doesn’t?”
“Not exactly.”
I rested my head on his shoulder and watched the white caps. I wanted every millisecond I could get from him. “Where are you living these days?”
He let out a short laugh that wasn’t really a laugh. “With whoever Billie’s sleeping with.”
“Oh.”
“Found out my mom died.” The waves crashed, filling the silence. “That’s why she never came back for us.”
“I’m sorry.” It felt cheap to say, but saying nothing seemed too callous. I wanted all the details of the years I’d missed, even if I didn’t know how to go about getting them.
Elias draped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me tight against him. “It’s all right. Life, you know?”
We sat in the dark, listening to the soothing pulse of the ocean and the muted laughter from people far down the beach. I should get home before Momma called Daisy’s house, but I didn’t want to leave him. After all, the chances I would ever see him again were slim.
His hand absentmindedly swept up and down my arm.
Being beside him like that, it felt like a missing fragment of my soul had finally been snapped back into place. That was the moment I learned what being whole meant. The very second I realized how impulsive love is. “Come home with me?” I whispered, and my heart stalled.
