❀2022 Watty Shortlister❀
❀𝗔𝗵𝗼𝗿𝗮 𝘁𝗮𝗺𝗯𝗶𝗲́𝗻 𝗲𝗻 𝗘𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗻̃𝗼𝗹❀
Much against his will, River Allen can't drag his gaze away from the new student, seventeen-year-old Dawn Gray Brooks. It isn't that she lives in a ragged, teal dress, and ca...
When River and I get home from Bitterroot Point, it's after dark. It's hard to part ways whenever we are together, so I linger the minutes I have left by the entrance of the pebbled driveway.
"That was an incredible ride," I say, trying my best to hide the sorrow in my gaze, tears stinging at the back of my eyes—I'll let them spill later when I'm alone in my room. That vision of Dad haunted me all the way back home. Was it real? Has he decided to abandon me? Have I failed him?
River's laughter snaps me back to this moment, and I rebel at what I'll need to do if Dad remains silent. I'll have no other choice but to let the only boy I've ever liked go, cut him out of my life forever. Part of me wants to dismiss this idea, hoping everything will continue as it was before we met. The other part of me, the broken one, knows better. Deep down, I know I won't find the way back to my father if I don't.
"Tell me about it. It's one of my favourite places, so I wanted to take you with me." His azure eyes are shining so fiercely, he takes my breath away. I stand there staring at them, and how they grow almost black. He's so bright. Even surrounded by darkness; he's so bright ...
I need to get inside or Mom will freak out, but I don't want to. I crane my neck in the house's direction, almost expecting to find Tommy and Bree peeking through the curtains with their puppy prying eyes. To my relief, no one is there.
My gaze wanders back to River, standing so close to me I could reach out and touch him. My fingers ache to grace his stubble and lay against his long neck. I want to feel his pulse long enough to encompass my own to his beating. I don't know how much time I have left before I fall apart.
He has so much life inside of him, it radiates... He's more than oxygen and carbon; there's more in him than hydrogen, and all the other damn substances we are made of. There has to be. How would he be standing out and apart from everyone else in this world otherwise?
"Dawn?" His voice breaks me from my reverie, sending jolts of electricity through my veins. I open my mouth to say something, but he takes my hand instead and spins me in so I'm tucked against him. My breathing hitches as his fingers wrap around the back of my neck, tilting my head back. He kisses me without an inch of remorse. It's the kind of kiss that makes me lose track of everything around me. It may be hours or minutes by the time we break apart, and he hops on his bike—his plump lips curving up at the corners in a playful smile.
I turn around and command my wobbly legs to make their way through the garden path. The sprinklers are on. They whisper his name with each stroke.
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Once inside, it's a matter of seconds before I have three sets of eyes fixed on my gaping face. Mom grabs me and hugs me, and I can sense how happy she is that I'm off the bike. I reciprocate the embrace with soft pats on her back.
"Was the ride okay, Dawn?" "Was River a skilful driver?" "Did you tell him not to speed?" "Did he speed?" "What about the helmet?"
"Yes, Mom, it was good." "Very safe, Mom." "I didn't have to, Mom." "Wore one of course."
