Page 77 of The Infiniteness of Yesterday
A small choking sound comes out of me. Willa had told me she’d gotten a transplant when we last hung out, but I hadn’t bothered to think aboutwhoit might be from.
Another sound comes from me, and I realize I’m hyperventilating.
“That’s … that’s good. That’s … really good.” And itis. The one good thing to come out of T.J.’s passing is knowing that his various organs and tissues helped others—that it wasn’t a complete loss.
“Like I said, we don’t know for sure, they don’t tell the recipient who it came from, but with the timing it seems likely.”
“I can’t believe he’s gone.” The words coming out on a choked sob. “I miss him so much.”
She leans against me, her head resting on my shoulder and looping her arms around mine.
“Is this okay?” she asks.
I lay my head on top of hers. “More than okay.”
Minutes pass and even though I don’t want her to go, I ask, “Do you need to get back to your friends?”
She shakes her head. “No, I told them to go on without me. I figured I could get a ride with you. Is that okay?”
Hell yeah it’s okay.
“That’s fine. I was going to watch the sunset and then go.” Already the sky is awash in bright pinks and purples. It won’t be much longer until it’s entirely gone from the sky.
“Sounds good.” She squeezes my arm a little tighter, wiggling closer.
The temperature is dropping and she’s probably getting cold, but I don’t have anything out on the beach with me. I left my clothes in the car. I’ve long since dried off from the ocean so I pull my arm from her hold. At first, she looks embarrassed, but that expression quickly disappears when I pull her fully against my side and wrap my arm around her.
She cuddles against my side, and I use my body to shield her as best I can from the breeze.
When the sun is nearly gone, we get up and I grab my surfboard. She starts to walk away on her own, but I quickly grab her hand with my free one and entwine our fingers. She looks down at our clasped hands with a tiny smile playing on her lips.
She looks up at me with those large hazel eyes reflecting the lights from the pier behind me and it feels like something shifts between us.
Back at my car, I quickly start the engine and hand her one of my spare sweatshirts. She tugs it on without protest and settles into the passenger seat.
I yank off my wetsuit leaving me in my swim briefs and quickly pull on my shorts and a t-shirt. Climbing in the driver’s seat, I smile over at Harlow.
She gives me a smile in return.
“You might have to remind me how to get to your house.”
“Okay,” she says.
I turn the radio up, but not so loud as to prevent conversation, but it doesn’t matter—she doesn’t say anything other than directions until we’re parked outside her house.
“You held my hand,” she says softly, toying with the sleeve of my sweatshirt that’s much too long on her.
“I did,” I say, not sure where she’s going with this.
“I thought…” She shakes her head and looks down at her lap. “I thought you liked Willa.”
“I do like Willa. But only as a friend,” I hasten to add the second part when I see her crestfallen expression. “You…” I trail off, trying to think about how I can possibly convey in words how I feel about her. “You, on the other hand, consume me.”
Hopefulness has her lifting her chin. “I do?”
“You have no idea,” I say with a defeated sigh. Trying to fight my feelings for this girl is futile.
“You like me? As more than a friend?”
