The Potential of a Day

Chapter 22: If I Could Let Go

If I Could Let Go

          “So what now?” Kurt demands, “we’ve fixed the light, it’s…” he glances down at the watch on his wrist, “eleven thirty. And we are in the highest room of a lighthouse. What’s the plan?”

          “We settle in and get comfy,” Leo announces, as if it were a perfectly reasonable thing to do. “Wait…” Kurt glances up, as if calculating something in his head, “you mean for us to sleep in an old lighthouse?”

          “Of course.”

          “Oh, of course,” Kurt nods as if he gets it, though from his expression, getting it is the farthest thing from his current state of mind. Abby glances around, surprised, “isn’t it a little…” but Abby trails off, as if unsure what she was going to say.

          “What? Isn’t a little what?”

          “Chilly. Isn’t it a little chilly up here?” Abby demands, reaching her arms around herself, making a scene of her shivering. Leo rolls his eyes, “oh don’t worry, we have blankets, it’s all good.” To which Abigail responds, “oh, and how many do we have, exactly?”

          “Three.”

          My lips snap open, I’m about to say that I don’t need one. But then Leo raises a hand, hushing me, “don’t worry about it, Lily and I can share.” Abby glances up at me, giggling; she brings a loosely closed fist to her lips. My responding glare is icy. “Everybody settle in, we can go to sleep as soon as we like.”

          And with that, the four of us set to warring over who gets which blanket. In the end, Leo and I end up with a ratty old wool thing. As Kurt and Abby sit, resting against the metal beams of the lamp room, Leo drapes the blanket over my shoulders. I glance at him, “you said we’d share,” I insist, opening up the blanket so as to wrap him up in it as well. “Nah, I’m fine, trust me.” Leo rolls his shoulders, crossing his arms across his chest. “No, I will absolutely not let you catch pneumonia for me.”

          “It’s summer,” he reminds me, “I don’t think pneumonia is much of a risk.”

          “We’re right on the ocean here, it gets pretty cold.”

          “You’re talking to the guy who’s slept here before, a lot. I’ll be fine, for real, I don’t need a blanket or anything, I’m plenty warm.”

          But I won’t take no for an answer, and practically attack him; pulling him under the old blanket. If he had wanted to, I’m sure he could have resisted me, but he finally gives in to my yanking him, and huddles in close to me. When I really think about it, it’s sort of odd, that I should be lying here, so close to him, when I’ve only known him a few hours. But it just feels so right. From the first time I saw him in that shop, I’ve had this undeniable attraction to the boy. Besides, I already feel like I know him, what with everything he’s told me about himself.

          The two of us rest, in sitting positions, against the metal grating behind us. Despite the tattered blanket, and the warm weather, I’m shivering. “See, you’re still cold,” Leo is shaking his head, and removes the blanket from his shoulders, then continues to wrap it tightly around me. “Thank you,” I whisper. Leo, leaning his head back against the metal poles and shutting his eyelids, mutters, “you can express your eternal gratitude to me in the morning, now sleep.”

          The morning. Suddenly, I’m struck with a fear. A fear to close my eyes. What if I fall asleep, and that’s it? What if I never wake up? That’s all I ever thought I got, wasn’t it? One day? I’m dead, and no matter how I might be coming to regret that now, I made my decision, and there is no going back on that now.