THOSE SUMMER NIGHTS

[47]

[47]

- ATLAS -

-

I was so me when I was with her.

I...

I want you to understand that I can be happy sometimes. My world isn't shrouded in darkness all the time. I'm happy when I spend nights laughing with Dawson and Jude over video call; I'm happy when I'm baking in the kitchen with Mom and Gram; I'm happy when I take Jace to the park and hear his laugh as he chases birds; I'm happy when I write.

And with saying all that, happiness wasn't ever a word I'd use to describe what it was like to be in her presence. Her exhale was like a reason for me to breathe and the curve of her lips were a reason for me to smile. When she pulls me closer to her, I always seem to find myself overwhelmed by a feeling I can't ever find a word for.

I feel like I'm in a bubble in space and time and it's just her and me. Nothing matters. Gravity seems like a distant, comical idea. The need to breathe and eat and sleep is secondary to the need to be with her, to feel her right there next to me.

I'm going crazy.

I hope she knows what she's done to me, because there's no way I can let her go after this.

I stared at the fan whirring above me, circling the room and cooling the sweat that's gathered above my brow and on the indents of my body. My shirt was long gone due to the warm humid air flowing in through the open windows.

Tomorrow we'll be boarding our plane back home.

Suddenly, it all felt too real. The packing, the last-minute running around the streets, the endless gift shopping. We were going back home.

Here, I felt like I built a new home with people I never thought I'd be able to grow close to. Here, I felt like I had my own space to breathe without people hovering or caring about who the hell you were when the doors were closed.

My head was spinning, too.

I had the worst headache, like there was a rod slicing right through the top of my head and down my spine.

I had texted Jude a few minutes ago asking if he wanted to go for a walk or something. He said he was out with Julia, looking for something to buy for her mom.

I had failed to notice that they weren't here.

Dawson was playing a video game with Leah downstairs. I could hear the distant shouting coming from the living room.

Eden was video-calling her family so I left her alone to do that. She seemed nervous about it.

I let my hands fall to the side, feeling them softly brush against the sides of my waist—scars, scars, scars everywhere.

My body was littered with them. Whether they were removed or not, you could still see that something wasn't right about my skin. They either looked glossed over or the skin rose irregularly.

The numerous tattoos that bled across my skin seemed to hide them a little.

They were a distraction from the mess in my brain's wiring so that people wouldn't see.

A ping went off from my phone and I felt around the side of my bed for it. Finally feeling the cool glass of my phone screen, I pulled it towards me.

A text from Mom.

Call me, please.

Delivered 10:31 PM

I massaged the back of my head with my hand, groaning softly. I haven't spoken to her in at least a week, avoiding her calls for no legitimate reason. She was one of the few people in the world that could easily pull emotions out of me.