Trading Heartbeats

I knew going into this that it wouldn't continue past three months. It never does. It probably doesn't help that it's rarely just once person I'm seeing; there's almost always one or two others, something I'm open about from the very beginning. Lately it seemed like it was almost on a rotating six-to-eight week basis I found someone new. And this time wasn't going to be any different.

It doesn't even make me feel the least bit upset that I'll never see the inside of this bedroom again. That's not to say I'm happy about it, either. I'm indifferent, really, as I slip out of the bed once my furiously beating heart finally returned to something close to its normal resting rate, and began to search for my clothes in the dark. We had been enthusiastic earlier and our clothes flew everywhere as we undressed. I hadn't given a second thought to it at the time, but now it was proving difficult for me to gather them quickly and quietly.

I could feel his eyes on me even in the dark as I pulled my shirt on over my head. The bed made a sound as he shifted. I imagined he was probably on his side, propped up one elbow, head resting against his closed fist. Or maybe his open hand. I would know if I looked, but I didn't want to. In my head I begged, please don't make this weird.

"Can't you stay, just this once?" he asked. It took everything in me not to roll my eyes, even though it was dark. Even though my back was to him.

"You know I don't spend the night," I replied, trying hard to hide my annoyance, and it came out surprisingly even. "Besides, staying tonight might give off the wrong impression, considering..." I let the thought hang in the air, but he knew what I was talking about.

Why did he have to make it weird?

Behind me, in the dark, he cleared his throat. "Yeah, I was hoping we could talk about that," he said."

This time I did roll my eyes. Something I am, admittedly, not very good at is hiding the way I feel in certain situations. However, I did manage to suppress the heavy sigh I felt building up. "There's nothing to talk about," I said. "It was fun for what it was, but that's all it was," I went on. "On my end anyway." It may have come out a little more harshly than I intended, but maybe it would get the point across a lot easier than having to hold his hand through this.

This all probably makes me sound really cold, but I'm not. I know that probably sounds like what cold people say to make themselves feel better, but honestly, I'm not. I'm also probably not full of the warm fuzzies. I exist somewhere in between, once described by a friend as the nicest jerk she's ever met.

He sighed. Loudly. Clearly frustrated with me. I knew what that meant and I did not want to have this conversation anymore.

"You knew what this was from the beginning," I said before he could start talking again. "You were supposed to tell me if it started to become something more for you. That was the agreement we had from day one." I was trying to be calm but the longer he let the silence stand between us the more annoyed I could feel myself getting. I finished dressing as quickly as I could, shoving my bra into my purse as I grabbed it and turned toward the bedroom door.

"Jessi, wait," he pleaded, but I didn't want to wait. I didn't want to listen to him to sob about feelings. There wasn't anything that could come out of his mouth that could make me change my mind. Those feelings just weren't there.

I pulled open the bedroom door and didn't bother to turn around when I said, "Bye, Michael." I could hear he was about to protest again, so I pulled the door shut quickly and hurried out of the apartment, hoping his roommate was either out, or sleeping hard, or just plain and simple wouldn't stop me to chat. Really, I wasn't being picky, just trying to get out out of there without a hitch.

Luck was on my side. I made it to my truck easily and hoisted myself up into the driver's seat. One of my favorite things was seeing the look on people's faces when I, a slight girl of barely five feet, one inch, hopped down out of the huge Chevy Silverado, as if they'd never seen anything like it before.

For maybe just longer than a minute I sat there in the dark and just breathed before putting the key in the ignition and giving the truck life. It was late but I wasn't ready for home yet. So instead I drove, not far, down the coastal road and pulled off onto one of the lookout points.

The back seats in my truck fold up and have storage underneath. I moved my bow out of the way and grabbed for the air mattress I kept tucked away for nights like this. I couldn't remember the last time I charged the pump, but a quick test told me it must have been recently.

With that, I hopped up into the bed of the truck and laid down once the mattress was fully inflated. The best thing about summertime in my little coastal town is the way it's never too hot during the day and sometimes even a little chilly at night. This is one of those night the wind picks up and blows in with the tide.

Goosebumps cover my arms but I don't mind. The sky is bright with stars and the sound of the water against the rocks brings a much needed sense of calm over me. One of the things I love most about this town is that whether it's the sky or the ocean, no view in Pacific Grove is ever the same twice. Even the trees are always changing. And so I take every opportunity to enjoy them and sort my thoughts in the process.

I hadn't been laying there long when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I took my time extracting it but quickly answered when I saw my best friend's smiling face and Shep flashing across the screen.

"If it's after twelve thirty, the call is for the dirty," I said, forgoing a standard greeting.

"Twelve thirty?" she questioned. "I thought it was two thirty?" she said.

"It is, but you know I like to twist things to suit the situation," I told her.

"Of course," she replied. "Where are you? I noticed you haven't been home all night."

Most of the time a statement like that would be considered at least slightly creepy, but we live across the street from each other and have been friends since before we could even talk. It's weird to think about that sometimes, that I have been alive for twenty two years and I've been friends with someone for every single one of them.

"Watching the stars. Listening to the ocean. Come hang," I said, and then added. "Just drive down Ocean View until you see my truck."

"Be there in ten," she said and hung up.

I dropped my phone on the mattress next to me and closed my eyes, inhaling the ocean air deeply. Barely five minutes passed before I heard a car pull up next to mine. The engine cut off and seconds later Afton Sheppard was climbing up onto the tailgate of my truck.

Her short hair, naturally dark brown, was bleached and in a few days would be a mix of lighter brown, blonde, and purple. Just last week it was her natural color with streaks of pink and blue. She's been toying with the idea of gray and lavender but isn't ready to commit to that just yet. Needless to say, she's very colorful.

She laid down next to me on the air mattress. "How'd it go?" she asked, wasting no time with pleasantries. "Sky's great tonight," she commented as she made herself comfortable.

I hummed in response to her observation. She was right. The sky was great. "I think I'm going to just start ghosting," I told her. "This whole one last hurrah thing hasn't been going that well recently." I sighed and then backpedaled. "Don't get me wrong. The sex is good. It's afterward, though. Like, the stereotype is that the girl is clingy, but that's not how it goes." We turned our heads to look at each other at the same time. "He asked me to spend the night. 'Just once,' he said. As if that's not one of the first rules I put on the table." Afton nodded at me but kept her expression neutral, and I shrugged.

"Maybe three months is too long," I went on, thinking out loud. "Maybe at two months I need to start slowly fading out." I sighed again. "I don't know. I'm just trying to have a good time. Why is that so hard to grasp?"

"You're just naturally likable," Afton started, but I interrupted her quickly.

"I haven't even been that nice to him lately!" I argued. It was true. I don't think I realized it at the time, but I had definitely been short with Michael more often, probably feeling that he was starting to get attached but not fully recognizing that it was happening. I probably should start paying closer attention to the signs.

Whatever Afton was going to say next got lost in the sound of another car pulling off the road and onto the lookout. We both sat up in time see an officer stepping out of a squad car.

"Ladies," he said as he approached us.

"Heya Scotty," I greeted the officer. Jackson Scott is a longtime colleague of my mother's, also a police officer, and it wouldn't be a stretch to call him a friend of the family. Though I do understand and recognize the line between personal and professional, as that is something Mama has always made very clear to myself, my siblings, and my friends. "Great night for star gazing," I told him.

"It is," he agreed. I could see him try to bite back the tiny smile that was struggling to pull at the corners of his mouth. Big softy. "Come on. Pack it up," he instructed after clearing his throat.

I scrunched my face at him. "Ten more minutes?" I suggested, probably sounding something like a child.

But he wouldn't bite. "Ten more seconds, Jessilynn," he said firmly. "Afton," he shifted his gaze to my best friend. "Let's go."

Grudgingly, Afton stood and hopped down off the tailgate. I reached for the pump and deflated the air mattress before following suit. She was already in her car by the time I was shoving the thing in the back seat of the truck, not bothering to put it into storage space underneath the seat. I would deal with it when I got home. I bid Scotty a goodnight, which he warmly returned (like I said, big softy) and hopped into the driver's seat.

Minutes later I was outside my house, and Afton hers. We stood on opposite sides of the street after getting out of our cars. "Lunch tomorrow?" she inquired.

"I work at nine, so come by around one thirty and we can hopefully avoid the rush. I'll treat you," I told her as I pulled open the back door to properly fold and store the deflated mattress.

I could see the smile on her face even in the dim light of the street lamps. "You're so good to me," she said, blowing a kiss in my direction. I blew one back and then waved over my shoulder as she headed up the driveway to her house.

The front of my house was mostly dark. The porch light and the light in the entryway inside were on, and so was my brother's bedroom light. But instead of going in through the front, I headed around the side of the house and let myself into the back yard, opening up the group text with my brother and sister.

Come down if ur still awake. Bring blankets

My room is in the back of the house and has a door that leads to the yard in addition to an entrance from the house. I barely pushed open the door and deposited my purse and keys on the hooks and kicked my shoes off just inside. Then I turned and walked across the yard and climbed up onto the giant trampoline to wait.

Jaelynn made it down before Jameson did, knowing not to turn on the light as she came outside. I watched as she approached, tossing a blanket at me before she jumped up onto the trampoline. She's taller than me, but we look enough alike that people know we're sisters. However, where I'm almost the spitting image of our mother, Jae is a mix of both our parents. And then there's James, who also has a mix of both parents features, but favors Dad more than Mama.

It's almost ten minutes before he makes it outside. Jae and I have already made ourselves comfortable but as soon as James lays down, we both move so that we're all three laying on our backs, and the two of us are perpendicular to him looking something like large thorns protruding from each of his sides, which, honestly, is probably how he feels about us sometimes. My head is on his stomach, Jae's is on chest, and we're all staring up at the stars. We've done this since we were kids, only it used to be that the two of them, being five years younger than me, would put their heads on me.

Sometimes we talk, but tonight we're all quiet. They've both been a little quieter than usual recently. Or maybe I just haven't put as much effort into talking to them. I'm not sure. But either way, I slide my phone out of my pocket and open up Twitter.

Jessilynn Rae @neatojessi
Ending this ridiculous night with my faves @jaerae @jamesneato

My phone is back in my pocket before I hear Twitter notifications sounding from both of theirs. None of us say anything still, but the air shifts noticeably once they've seen my tweet. At this point, we'll probably fall asleep like this, so I ignore the notifications I feel vibrating in my pocket and close my eyes.