Page 41 of Memories By the Shore
“Hey, you,” I coo while walking over, clutching the extra blankets close to my chest.
Jasper steps over one of the blankets on the ground and slides both palms along my cheeks. His fingers thread through my hair, pushing the strands away from my face. “You look beautiful.”
My eyes stare into his dark eyes. “Thank you.”
“I got you chicken tacos,” he says, gesturing behind him.
Breathing in his scent, I smile weakly. “Thank you.” I open my mouth to take a bite when I sense Jasper staring.
“Is everything okay?” he asks, concerned.
“Yeah,” I quickly dismiss, brushing off his question.
His eyes narrow. “Are you sure? You seem off.”
How could he pick up on something like that? We’ve been with each other for all of five minutes?
I nod, moisture bubbles in my armpits, nervous from being put on the spot. “Yes, I’m fine. Everything is fine.”
Jasper returns his taco to the paper wrapper next to him then turns to me. “I can feel something is on your mind.” He leans in, rubbing a thumb across my lower lip. “You can talk to me.”
He’s not going to let this go until I tell him. I sigh. “It’s my mother’s birthday today.”
With a sharp rise of his chest. “Oh no. I’m sorry.”
I shake off his comment.I’m done pretending to be sad.“Thanks, but I’m alright.”
“You’ve mentioned that you didn’t have a close relationshipwith your parents—” he begins, but I interrupt.
“I know what you’re going to say, that you’re sorry for me, and it’s okay to be sad. But that’s not the problem, Jasper.”
He clasps his hands together over bent knees. “What is the problem then?”
I clear my throat, buying time to think of a response that won’t make me look heartless. “The problem is that I don’t feel much of anything.”
“What do you mean?” he asks.
My eyes dart around the beach, searching for the words I don’t have, looking for a way to explain my lack of love toward my parents. I can’t let that portion of my truth ever hit the air.Or can I?
“I didn’t really know my parents.” A slow tear rolls down the side of my cheek. “They spent most of my life traveling all over the world with my dad’s company. They were in love and obsessed with each other. There was no room for a child in their world.”
“I’m so sorry you had to go through that. And I’m sure that every single emotion you’re having or not having is warranted,” he says.
“I feel like a broken person. Who doesn’t mourn the loss of their parents? Who doesn’t miss their dead mother on her birthday?” My voice cracks with desperation. I’ve held much of my true feelings inside for a long time.
Suddenly, Jasper’s two fingers are on my chin. He angles my face toward his with a light pinch and a gentle tug. His pupils are large, with an intense stare that hits every part of me. “You are not broken.”
My stomach spasms, forcing an audible breath to escape. “Then why does it feel like that?”
“Because you’ve never had anyone to remind you of how special you are. About how you are the most perfect but complex person in the world,” he says, then brings his lips to mine. “Your feelings are yours, and you do not need to defend or justify them to anyone.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
Jasper and I lay on our backs, staring at the night sky. Safely tucked into his arm, I imagine what life would be like if I could do this every day. The waves roll in and out in the background—the sounds, the smells—everything in this moment. A potent sense of belonging washes over me.
“Jasper!” A guy’s voice comes from my left. It’s familiar, but I don’t know who it is until I’m getting hammered by two more. Easton, Bodhi, and Riley run right toward us. All three guys throw themselves onto the ground and into the blanket between Jasper and me.
“What the fuck, you assholes,” Jasper scolds, shoving Riley to the side.
