Safe Haven

When it was too hot to run around town, and when we grew sick of swimming, us kids more often than not found ourselves sprawled out as much as possible in Ravenrot. We’d had our mothers pack us sandwiches and cold juice boxes.

We’d camped out in the shade for the day, philosophizing, discussing the futures of our lives. We’d played MASH, counted the number of lines in the wood on the ceiling, and drawn inappropriate and childishly hilarious pictures.

As the temperatures started to rise three days after me and John’s conversation, I felt myself walking toward that familiar place.

With no work to distract me, and with my mother hovering, it was impossible to bury the question of what I wanted John and I to be and at the same time it was impossible to think about it.

Exactly 104 steps from the place where I’d parked my car, I found myself at the front door of the very symbol of my childhood.

It seemed like an eternity had passed before the door swung open again, and I wasn’t that surprised to see John staring down at me as I spread out over the floor, recounting those lines in the ceiling and daydreaming about what my future held.

"You're letting all the cool air out," I whispered, not moving an inch from where I was sprawled out. He smiled weakly, stepping over the fan of my hair against the flooring and closing the door behind him as he crossed the space.

He plopped himself down on the couch, elevating his legs and resting his hands on his smooth stomach. For the longest time, we laid in complete silence, both of us thinking and soaking in the eerie familiarity of being in the same position we'd been in countless times in our past.

"Have you thought about our last conversation, Marlow?" John asked quietly.

"Of course. How could I not have?" I murmured.

Another silence settled over the two of us, but this time it was tainted with a sort of tension.

"And have you come to any conclusion?"

I licked my lips and debated over my answer. Reasoning, my feelings, the past and the thought of my future were all pulling me in different directions.

I turned my head to stare at him. “What have you thought?” I asked.

He sighed – a single breath of disapproval of my answer – but he answered regardless. “I know what I want, Marlow. I just have a few unanswered questions about it all.”

Swallowing the lump of fear in my throat, I peeled myself off of the floor to face him properly. I had a feeling that the conversation being shared between the two of us wasn't casual enough to be able to not be face-to-face.

I brought my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them, waiting for him to start firing them off. He didn't ask though.

As if he was reading the question on my mind, he sighed. "I don't want to force anything out of you Marlow. I want you to feel comfortable telling me whatever you want. I don't want to put you through any more pain than what you've already been through. And I'm fine not knowing for the rest of my life if you never want to discuss what happened that night again."

I wanted to cry. My eyes glassed over and I was forced to look away so he couldn't see but I blinked them away.

"This is what I miss, John. I miss us, I really, really do," I admitted, sparing a careful glance to him. He was smiling, practically glowing with happiness and hopefulness.

"I miss us too," he stated, sliding off the sofa to sit in front of me. He took my hands in his, rubbing his thumbs gently over my knuckles.

I sucked in a breath and pinched my eyes shut. This was it. I had to tell him that I'd come to a conclusion. "I don't want to be together."

My chest felt heavy and when I opened my eyes John looked hurt.

"At least, not yet," I rushed out.

I watched as his green eyes glinted with confusion. "I have a lot of stuff I still need to work through, John. I want to eventually tell my parents about all of this - this mess. I need to work on getting some normalcy back to me before diving headfirst back into a relationship."

I hoped to whatever god above that he would understand and that he'd be patient with me.

"I can wait," John finally said.

I felt skeptical. For a second I wondered if I was dreaming. "Really?"

He smiled. "I waited for you to come back here, didn't I? I love you, Marlow and I want you to do whatever you have to do to be happy. If this is what it takes, I can wait."

Without thinking, I felt myself lunging for him. My arms wrapped around him so tightly that my muscles were shaking and tense by the time I let go. This reality felt anything but.

When I pulled myself out of our embrace, hope renewed and stomach in joyous knots that this boy loved me and still loved me regardless of what had happened, I was certain that everything would work itself out one way or another. It had to.

I wasn’t kidding myself into oblivion. I wasn’t denying that it wouldn’t be easy or wouldn’t stir up a whole mess of bad emotions. I knew exactly that it would – and I would move forward.

“I have something that belongs to you…” John said suddenly, leaning forward on the sofa to dig in his back pocket.

What he pulled out had me gasping in shock and awe.

“I – uh – found it a while after you left. My mom sent me to clean out the cabin after… well, after he left and I found it… I was so confused but I sort of understand it all now.” He said, smiling sadly at me before looking back down at the bracelet in his fingers.

“You had it this entire time?” I asked.

He smiled, nodding. “I thought about throwing it down the Grand Canyon once or twice. I’m glad I didn’t by the way you’re reacting right now… May I?” he asked, holding the ends out.

I nodded, unable to speak. It was my bracelet – the very bracelet John had given me as a promise once upon a time ago, the trinket that I’d been searching for for so long.

Holding my hand out, I watched with teary eyes as John latched it. “I replaced the clasp. I know that it kept falling off…” he whispered, staring at the metal monstrosity of beauty on my wrist.

And then he leaned down and placed one chaste kiss on the scar that it hid beneath.

Loud, summer class, exam the next afternoon, needing to go study, smiling, kissing John goodnight, windows rolled down, the sound of fireworks, getting out of the car, the chain snagging on the edge of the car door, the already feeble clasp snapping with the jerk of my arm. Noticing blood. Headlights, my name being called. Noel. The part where it becomes blurry, the fear settling in all over again.

John’s lips on my skin and the missing piece I’d been searching for securely wrapped around my wrist.

None of it mattered to me at the moment. I was safe. John was my safety – I realized. He had always been my safety, even at our lowest. And I was sure that he always would be.