My Calamity
Chapter Seventeen
I was panicking. Completely panicking. Words weren't an option at this point. All I could do was stare. And stare. And stare. This couldn’t be happening.
But it was. There was no possible way to get past this. I couldn't just brush it off and pretend it never happened. Patrick was right, it wasn't alright. At some point you have to face the truth, do something about it. I just wasn't sure what to do about this truth.
Abruptly, maybe even awkwardly, I turned and slumped into the sand. The night was cooler than expected for the summer, especially this close to the water, and I had to will myself not to shiver, though goosebumps painted a thick coat over my body.
Patrick slid into the sand beside me, his suit jacket brushing against my bare arm. My heart hammered at my chest, trying unsuccessfully to break free and float into the solar system.
"This won't work out," I said finally, breaking the silence momentarily.
The wind whistled around our heads, attempting to draw them closer, however unsuccessful it was. "You don't know that," Patrick replied calmly, a beat later.
"But what if it doesn’t?"
"What if it does?"
I dug my fingers into the sand then, and looked up at the sky through the slits in the boards of the pier. For a moment, it felt like I was alone in the world and that at any second an angel was going to swoop down and take me away forever. I wanted to scream, and cry; the feeling was unbearable. It clawed at my throat, begging to take me whole.
But then Patrick reached over, and laced his fingers through mine, and the feeling was gone. My heart didn't hurt anymore; it was light and weightless fluttering in my chest like a newborn bird taking flight.
I felt my cheeks heat up, but instead of avoiding his gaze like I normally would have, I did the opposite, and looked right at him. His eyes were staring deeply into mine and as unnerving as it was, I didn't look away.
"I'm afraid," I breathed, watching Patrick's eyes for something to change. Maybe for them to become mocking, laughing at my expense.
He didn't say anything, and I didn't expect him to, but he looked out onto the sea, and unlaced his fingers from mine. It made my heart shake with terror, but then he was draping his suit jacket over my shoulders, and his warm fingers were back between mine, and in that moment, I'd forgotten everything I'd told myself about boys, and moments like this.
I'd forgotten all the lessons I'd taught myself, all the things I'd been warned about. For a moment it was as though there was no such thing as heartbreak. But I knew that wasn't true.
But it was. There was no possible way to get past this. I couldn't just brush it off and pretend it never happened. Patrick was right, it wasn't alright. At some point you have to face the truth, do something about it. I just wasn't sure what to do about this truth.
Abruptly, maybe even awkwardly, I turned and slumped into the sand. The night was cooler than expected for the summer, especially this close to the water, and I had to will myself not to shiver, though goosebumps painted a thick coat over my body.
Patrick slid into the sand beside me, his suit jacket brushing against my bare arm. My heart hammered at my chest, trying unsuccessfully to break free and float into the solar system.
"This won't work out," I said finally, breaking the silence momentarily.
The wind whistled around our heads, attempting to draw them closer, however unsuccessful it was. "You don't know that," Patrick replied calmly, a beat later.
"But what if it doesn’t?"
"What if it does?"
I dug my fingers into the sand then, and looked up at the sky through the slits in the boards of the pier. For a moment, it felt like I was alone in the world and that at any second an angel was going to swoop down and take me away forever. I wanted to scream, and cry; the feeling was unbearable. It clawed at my throat, begging to take me whole.
But then Patrick reached over, and laced his fingers through mine, and the feeling was gone. My heart didn't hurt anymore; it was light and weightless fluttering in my chest like a newborn bird taking flight.
I felt my cheeks heat up, but instead of avoiding his gaze like I normally would have, I did the opposite, and looked right at him. His eyes were staring deeply into mine and as unnerving as it was, I didn't look away.
"I'm afraid," I breathed, watching Patrick's eyes for something to change. Maybe for them to become mocking, laughing at my expense.
He didn't say anything, and I didn't expect him to, but he looked out onto the sea, and unlaced his fingers from mine. It made my heart shake with terror, but then he was draping his suit jacket over my shoulders, and his warm fingers were back between mine, and in that moment, I'd forgotten everything I'd told myself about boys, and moments like this.
I'd forgotten all the lessons I'd taught myself, all the things I'd been warned about. For a moment it was as though there was no such thing as heartbreak. But I knew that wasn't true.