Page 60 of The Tomorrows After You
“Do you need a hand?” He moved to help me.
“Oh,I’malright, I just need to get thesesetup before the vendor booths open!”Iflashedhim another smile but the phoninesswasapparent, even to me. Isawhim frown and scuff his shoe and a pang of guiltstruckme before Idisappearedto take care ofRiot’s booth.
An hour later, I’dcheckedon all our sponsors,gavea few comments to bloggers, andrefilledapproximately three large tumblers with rum and Diet Coke. The eventwasrunning smoother than I couldhavepredicted.
Everything felt like it was wrapping up in Godot and that sense of finality filled me with a surprising amount of sadness. I sucked down whatever was left in my cup and tossed it in the garbage. Maybe it would be better if I just took off tonight. Better to sober up.
I found myself wandering into the artists’ showcase. I idled past the children’s section and stopped in my tracks when I came to the end.
It was the twinkling sound of metal chimes I heard first.
They filled my ears and brain with the reminiscent sound of adolescent summer. The sound somehow sprinkled its way down my entire body. I felt like I could float away. But I was viscerally grounded by the harmonious carousel of sparkling colors that caught the tent walls. The shimmering display called me forward and the crowd that had gathered around it parted like they’d been commanded to.
My mouth fell open when I reached the front.
The whirligigwasmadeof all kinds of scrap metal and glass shards to form the body of a pickup truck.
Riot’s pickup truck.
An empty jug of cheap winewasbrokeninto pieces andaddedto act as the truck’s doors. Therewereold cigarette ads decoupaged on the metal hood of the truck.
The real punch to my heart, though,wasthe old Barbie doll in the center of the truck bed. Her long blonde hairpulledup into a high ponytail. Half of her facewasmarredin black dirt, which only somehowmadeher more spectacular. Shewaswearinga dirty blue gown, and shespun,positionedlike a ballerina. The back of the truckcamealive with pieces ofstainedglasscascadingoff the back. Slivers of a mirror behind itmadeit look like itwasburning. One small, round lightemanatedfrom the front.
The twinkling that emanated from it was hypnotic. Everything about it was magnetic.
My breath caught in my throat, which was quickly tightening when I let my eyes drift to the card beneath it.
ME & CINDERELLA -Riot Asher
He used his real name. My chest burst with pride I hadn’t earned and when tears sprung to my eyes, I didn’t blink them away. They were evidence. That something, nosomeone,had moved me.
I’m not letting this one go, he had said to me last night, referring to the piece before me. At least that’s what I had thought he was referring to. Now it didn’t feel like that.
Not even a little.
Isuckedin a shaky breath, unable to tear my eyes away.
Even when the familiar scent of leather, clean citrus and a hint of motor oilcamewaftingfrom the strong body now standing next to me.
“It’s an old, beat-up truck…” I whispered almost inaudibly.
“With one headlight,” Riot finished for me.
Heart in my throat, Itoremy eyes away from the whirligig andgazedup at him. The carnivalfellaway, and itwasjust us. Back in his truck,vyingfor the volume of the Wallflowers’“One Headlight”.
Only wewerefacingone another now. No pretense. No façade. Only the deep reverence on Riot Asher’s expression, his eyessweepingover my face.
“You used your real name.” My voice was tight. I pulled my bottom lip in between my teeth to keep the tears from spilling over. His jaw twitched.
“Iwantedeveryone to know it’s mine.”He said the words with such conviction, Ilostmy breath. Riot’s eyesgrazedmy lips. The air between us crackled with all the things weweren’tsaying.All the things we’d kept inside. I felt something shift inside me like waking up in a brand new time and place. And there I saw it all over his face. That same feeling of newness breaking through a long, dark and cold night. A night that lasted forever. But here we were. Together, bathing in the sanguine hues of a brand new morning.
I was never temporary for him. Like he was never temporary for me. No matter what happened Riot would be a permanent stamp on my heart.
“Riot…” I rasped. His chest rose, inching closer to me. The weight of everything he’d left unsaid poured from his icy blue gaze.
“There youare!”Jeremy’s voicewaslike a bucket of cold water.“Nicolette, Ihaveto introduce you to the mayor. Let’s go!”Ifelthim grab my hand. He didn’t wait for a response beforedraggingme away. My other handshotout for Riot, almost instinctively. Iclutcheda thick bicep, the rigid tension of his bodyrelaxingunder my palm. Iclungto him for as long as I could before ultimately, my fingersslippedaway.
“Godot is on the cusp of becoming an even more incredible town than it once was and will be again.” Jeremy sounded like he was running for president.
