“Well, what was that? What was I feeling?”
“Love?”
I dropped the sandwich to the rug. “David!”
“I don’t know, Ara. What am I, a scientist?”
“You do know.” I looked over at the picnic basket. “Did you drug those grapes?”
David laughed. “Ara? Why would I do—”
“Then what was that?” I cut in. “It didn’t feel natural, and I know you know something about it. I saw how you looked at me.” I pointed at him; he shook his head, smiling down at his folded arms. “You felt it, too. I know you did. Now tell me what it was.”
“I’m not going to fight with you,” he said calmly.
“I’m not fighting.”
“Then drop it.”
“No. Don’t you think if I felt a—a gravitational pull toward you, like my soul just split in two and then was suddenly—” I scrunched an imaginary piece of paper between my palms, “—forced back together, that if you felt it, too, or if you know why I felt it, you should tell me?”
“Gravitational pull?” His brow rose; he leaned forward a little, resting his forearm over his knee.
“Why do you do that?”
“What?”
“Make me feel silly—make me think I feel things you don’t.”
After rubbing his forehead viciously, he swept a hand through his hair and sat back against the rock again. “Can we drop this? Please?”
I looked down at the ant-covered bread in front of me, blinking back tears.
“Ara.” His voice commanded I look at him; I shook my head. “Ara, please. Look at me.”
“Why?”
“Please?”
Reluctantly, I rolled my face upward.
His golden smile warmed. “Oh, sweetheart. I’m sorry.” He reached out to me. “You know how I feel about you.”
“But I don’t know if you felt what I just felt.” I nodded to the place on the rug where we’d been sitting during the…moment. “If you didn’t feel it too…what does that mean?”
“What that was has nothing to do with how I—” His fists clenched in obvious frustration. “You are one of the most stubborn damn girls I’ve ever met.” He looked right into me. “Do you know that?”
I bit my lip.
“And do you know what else, Ara?” He appeared in front of me, tilting my chin upward.
“What?”
“It’s also one of the most charming things about you.” I caught the gleaming in David’s eye, committing it to memory. “No more tears, okay?”
“Okay.”
He tugged my hand until I came to sit beside him against the rock, and I nestled the crown of my head under his chin, placing my hand over the cotton shirt that barely contained the coolness of his skin underneath. I was sure he was getting colder.
“Ara?”
“Mm-hm.”
His strong arms squeezed me closer for a second. “We’ll talk about things another time, all right?”
I nodded.
As the day rolled on, David asked me a lot about home—about my mum and Mike, and didn’t back down until I answered every question. But I found that, somehow, when I spoke to him about home, the good memories, I could do it without wanting to cry. It was like he formed an invisible, remedial barrier around me. I could just be with him, and that was nice. I rested my head in his lap, letting the tickle of sweat roll down my spine under the hot summer sun and soak into my green cotton dress, while David gently stroked my hair, pointing out odd clouds.
“I don’t know.” He squinted, shadowing his brow. “I think it looks more like a bee.”
“No way,” I scoffed, outlining the cloud with my fingertip. “See? Long tail, giant wings. It’s a dragon.”
“Okay, you’re right. It’s a bee.” David chuckled.
I slapped his arm playfully.
“Ouch.” He rubbed his chest.
“What are you doing?” I laughed. “I hit you in the arm.”
“Yeah, but it hurt here.”
Aw, so sweet. “Then, where would it hurt if I damaged your heart?” I asked in a light, joking tone.
His eyes darkened, the smile fading. “The soul.”
“Um—” I cleared my throat, looking away from his eyes. “So, what’s out on that island? Anything interesting?”
“I could show you, if you like.”
“Okay. But won’t we get wet?”
David looked down at the tops of my thighs, just covered by the rim of my green dress, and smiled. “You won’t.”
“Well, maybe we’ll leave it for today. There’s always tomorrow, right?” I rolled onto my knees and sat with my face right in front of David’s, the tips of our noses just off touching. We both took a long, shaky breath, and the sweet scent of honey came back on my lips, making my mouth water. His hand slowly came up, taking hold of me, steering my face toward his. But he stopped—held me there, my lips tingling just in front of his, and softly ran his thumb over them.
“David?”
He closed his eyes tightly. “Please don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
He didn’t answer—just sat there, taking shallow breaths. I focused on his mouth, moving slowly forward, closing my eyes, holding my breath.
“It’s getting late,” he said, and a cold rush separated us.
My eyes opened to the ugly black face of the rock he’d been leaning against. I turned around to watch him walking off, running a hand through his hair. “David?”
“You know, you’re right.” He stopped about ten paces away. “We can go out to the island another day. I think I remember something about a History assignment being due,” his voice rose in question.
The breath I’d been holding made a huge lump in my throat. “It can wait.”
“No—” He shook his head, coming over to pack the picnic basket. “It can’t.”
I flopped onto my back with a huff. In the corner of my mind, my silly fantasy continued—David and I, all hands and lips, floating along the rest of the day in each other’s arms. But reality shut the door on that world; opening another to the mountain of pending homework I faced instead.
With a sigh, I stood up and folded the picnic rug. “Here, you wanna stash this back in your rock crevice?”
He stepped away, shaking his head. “This is your secret place now too, Ara. I’ll show you where to hide it.”