Cars are crammed into every inch of the parking lot above the beach. I gulp down a nervous breath as Kaia creates her own parking space by squeezing into a narrow strip of beach grass nestled into the cliffside. It’s so tight she’s going to have to crawl over to my seat to get out.
“I thought you said there weren’t going to be that many people,” I say as I peer down the stairs that lead to the sand. The lot is about midway up the side of the cliff, maybe a hundred feet above the beach, but even at this height I can hear the maelstrom of thoughts below, not loud enough yet to be overwhelming, but they will be the closer I get to the bonfire.
“I lied,” Kaia practically crows like she’s proud of herself. “You can’t avoid crowds forever and besides.” She lowers her voice and lightly squeezes my shoulder. “It’s a big open space down there, okay? Plenty of sand and sky. It won’t feel crowded. And if it does, we can take a walk or something.”
If her words don’t make her opinion clear enough her thoughts do. They chant the word agoraphobia over and over as an image of her Intro to Psychology book flashes through her head. She thinks I’ve got some kind of fear of crowded spaces. That it’s why I don’t attend classes on campus or any major town events. It’s also part of why she plied me with beer on the car ride over here.
I swallow hard and zip up my coat against a sudden gust of sea-dampened wind.
“I’m not sure I’m ready for this,” I admit, stuffing my hands inside my coat pockets. Music echoes up the cliffside, loud with a driving beat. Now that I’m here, all my big self-talk about how tonight will go evaporates into the salty air.
Kaia pulls me into an impromptu hug before she studies my eyes. “It took me forever to get you out of your house. If you don’t go now, then when?”
I don’t have an answer. Wait. Yes, I do.
Never.
I’ve tried and failed too many times before. Just because I couldn’t handle large crowds when I was little, doesn’t mean I still can’t. The only way to know for sure is to try. And if I manage tonight, there’s a sizable reward waiting for me: a chance to be with Nicholas, to do normal things. Somehow, I’m both sick of being isolated and longing for the safety and quiet of my room.
After a silent count down from three, I head for the stairs before I chicken out.
“Yesss!” Kaia shouts, the wind whipping her hair into her eyes. She falls into step behind me and together we navigate the weather-beaten stairs one at a time, being careful to avoid the spots where they’re rotting.
With every step the onslaught of thoughts from the beach gets louder and louder.
Why is he being such a douche?
No way I’m making it to graduation.
She doesn’t like me.
Every weekend is the same. I’m so sick of it.
I’m so drunk.
I bet they don’t pay me their share of the keg.
Thoughts pepper me like gunfire, each one layered over the last, too many to armor myself against. I put my Air pods in and crank up the music. The thoughts get muffled, harder to differentiate.
Okay, promising.
The bonfire is huge, the flames nearly as tall as the people dancing around it. Beyond is a stretch of blue-black ocean and the distant, dim glow of town. Raging against the oily backdrop of night, the house fire the cops were talking about is a twin to the bonfire, just bigger. No one at the party seems to notice or care. It’s strange to think that on one side of the inlet some family is facing the tragedy of losing their home and potentially their lives, and here on this side, it’s all laughter and celebration. The contradiction increases my nerves.
But then I spot Nicholas lingering on the outskirts of the group and everything else ceases to matter. He’s undeniably handsome, but that’s not what makes him so mesmerizing. It’s the way he stands off to himself, totally at ease in his own company. He exudes a quiet confidence, his gaze on the ocean and not the party. I isolate out of necessity, but he does it by choice. His hands are tucked into the back pockets of his jeans which hang perfectly over his muscular frame. He’s athletic and strong, but in that lean, lithe sort of way. I like looking at him. I could literally stare for hours and not get bored.
“What are you waiting for? Go talk to him.” Kaia nudges me with her hip.
“I will,” I say, but I’m having trouble taking that first step. What do I even say? Given all the romance novels I’ve read you’d think I’d have stored away at least some of their witty banter, a few clever opening lines, but I’ve got nothing. So much for the hours of rehearsal I did in my room for this moment with Rose as my audience. A conversationalist I am not.
As if sensing us watching him, Nicholas looks up.
Our eyes meet.
I can hear my name in his thoughts. Seraphina. I like the way he thinks it. I can’t read his emotions the way I do his mind, but there’s something in the word, a hint of tenderness and heat. I move in his direction almost as if my legs have a mind of their own. His lips curve upward on one side as he watches me get closer.
“I’m going to get something to drink,” Kaia says, but I can barely hear her over the music blaring through my Air pods and the thoughts still peppering the air. Besides, I’m focused on the man in front of me, how the firelight adds a subtle gold hue to his brown hair, how he’s smiling that sexy smirky lopsided smile that makes a wave of heat spread through my stomach as he watches me. My heart is a bird beating against the cage of my ribs. Every inch of my skin is hyper aware of him, the cold night air warring with the warmth of the bonfire, the music, everyone’s thoughts. It’s exhilarating and overwhelming. I feel like I might literally implode from all the stimulation.
“You came,” Nicholas says when I reach him, one eyebrow quirking up. His smile widens.
I turn down my music a bit so I can hear him. When I do, the onslaught of thoughts around me intensifies. There are so many interspersed with shrieks of laughter and shouted verbal conversations. It’s a sudden maelstrom of words that sends a spike of pain through my head.
“Can we take a walk?” I ask, yelling the words because everything is just so LOUD. I grimace at the intensity of my voice, the way it quavers.
Concern flashes across his face, but he nods, gesturing for me to lead the way. I practically run for the far side of the beach, away from the cliffs and the bonfire and all the people. Ahead there is a cluster of rocks jutting into the bay. I aim for them, the pain in my head lessening with every step I take.
“Hey, wait up,” Nicholas calls. His thoughts drift into my brain.
Why is she so nervous? Is she afraid of me?
This thought makes me cringe, because it’s true. I am afraid, but not of him. Of me, of how I’m going to navigate this night without drowning in the thoughts around me. The music is helping, but not enough.
Nicholas climbs up on one of the rocks then offers me his hand to help me up.
I take it, cursing the clamminess of my hand. “Sorry, I’m just not good in crowds.”
“It’s okay, really.” He motions for me to sit on a flat section of rock then he settles down beside me close enough that are thighs are touching. Now that we’re alone, I have less than zero idea what to say or do. An awkward silence descends even though we’ve talked a dozen times in Bible study before. This should be easy.
Nicholas looks out over the water at the house fire still raging.
We’re too far away to see anything more than a flickering arc or orange-red light and billows of gray smoke that look like ghosts drifting into the sky.
I should check it out. Later. In case. He thinks. Just to be sure.
It doesn’t make sense. He’s not a fireman or a police officer. He works at the church with his parents and takes classes at the local community college like me. Except he goes in person.
“Someone’s house,” I say. “Kaia and I saw the firetrucks on our way over here.” This is not the conversation I want to be having, but I don’t know how to steer it in a different direction. Belatedly I realize that just seeing the firetrucks wouldn’t be enough for me to know that it’s a house fire. Stupid. I need to be more careful.
“I hope the people who live there are okay,” Nicholas says. His thoughts are strange now, shifting.
Another tragedy.
Is it related to the campers?
Frowning, I take my Air pods out and tuck them in my jacket pocket so I can hear him better, both his thoughts and his speech. From this distance the partyers’ mind chatter is manageable, a distant din.
“So, how come I never see you on campus and only at church?” Nicholas asks suddenly, his lips curling into a tentative smile.
I shrug. “My mom’s overprotective. And strict. I mean, you’ve met her.”
He laughs softly. “Yeah, she doesn’t let you out of her sight, does she?” He rubs his jawline, his cheeks flushing. “But you’re an adult now. Why is she so protective?”
I busy myself with tracing the edge of the rock beside me so I don’t have to meet his gaze. “She’s worried about the devil. That he’ll devour me if I stray too far from home.”
Saying it out loud, it sounds so ridiculous that I half laugh, embarrassed.
I expect Nicholas to laugh, but he doesn’t. Instead, he watches me more intently. “The devil?”
“Not the actual devil. Evil people. Not sure if she thinks they’re possessed by the devil or what.” I bite my lip and breath deep through my nose. I’ve gone this far, might as well admit all the crazy. “Something bad happened when she was about my age. She doesn’t like to talk about it, but her thoughts—” I catch myself just in time. “I mean the few times she has, have made me think it had to do with a man though she always thinks—talks—about him as more of a monster. Like the devil.”
Nicholas is leaning in, listening so intently, I can feel my face heating up.
I thought so, he thinks.
This makes no sense. He thought so about what? That Mom is crazy? That we both are? I try listening harder to his mind, but it’s like a wall suddenly goes up inside his brain. It’s happened before at church all the times I tried to mentally dig deeper. I can sense more thoughts behind the barrier, but they are inaccessible to me. When we first met, it was one of the things I found most fascinating about him and his whole family. They’ve all got the same barriers. It must be some sort of genetic thing. Does the man in town have it too? No, his mind was a void. Nicholas’s is not.
Out loud, he says, “I’m sorry that happened to her. It’s understandable she’s protective of you, even if it’s a little…extreme.”
Except is it understandable? For the past twenty years with her fear increasing instead of decreasing the older I get? I think it’s messed up. But no matter how often I try to convince her I’m more than old enough to have earned more independence, she refuses to listen. Then her thoughts get erratic, more and more unhinged until she starts blaming herself for why I’m cursed with mindreading, that she let the Devil in. I worry she’ll do something drastic to herself. Anytime I challenge her, she’s certain the devil’s acting through me, hurting her all over again. Lately I’ve been thinking I should have her committed, but if I do, I’ll be truly alone. She’s the only person in this world who knows what I can do.
“Maybe, but it needs to stop now,” I say, to him and to me. It does and I need to be the one to do it. “Tonight is the first step.”
“Well I’m honored I could be a small part of it,” he says. “And maybe I can help with the second. I’d like to take you out. On an actual date. Dinner and a movie or something.”
Even though I know he likes me because I can read his mind, it’s still a thrill that he’s asking me out on a date. I like how warm his voice is as he asks. And now I’m certain I made the right decision coming here tonight.
“You’re not a small part at all,” I admit. “I snuck out so we could finally talk alone. And I’d love to go on a date.” A big, goofy grin is spreading across my face. Dinner and a movie. I’m so excited I could cry.
He reaches out and takes my hand in his, laces his fingers through mine. “I’ve been wanting to do this ever since I first saw you,” he says softly.
My insides are literally screaming. I am hyperaware of his palm against mine, the heat between our skin, the way my heart skips a beat.
I shouldn’t be doing this. Not now. Not if there’s real danger out there tonight.”
His thoughts slice through the thrill of holding his hand. Weird. What danger?
I search his face as I focus a bit harder on his thoughts, but they’re already shifting, that damn barrier forming again.
But she’s here. With me. Finally.
Now these thoughts I understand because they mirror my own. What I want to do right now is kiss him. Not decipher what he’s thinking and why. And I want to do it before I lose my nerve.
I lean closer to him, my heart racing. “Can I try something?” I ask, moving closer.
He’s staring at me so intently my stomach does a little flip.
“Okay,” he says quietly, his face inches from mine now.
I press my lips to his in one swift motion before I lose my nerve.
He’s startled at first, completely taken off guard, but then his lips soften, and move against mine. One of his hands gently grabs the nape of my neck to pull me closer, as the thumb of his other hand caresses my jaw. Every nerve in my body sings. This moment is so much more than I’d hoped it would be. I am floating, no flying, no SOARING. His thoughts are all about how he’s liking this kiss as much as I am, how he wants more, so much more, and every ounce of apprehension I had melts away. I want more too. I want his hands to move lower. I want to unbutton his shirt and run my fingers over his chest. I want, I want, I want.
When his tongue slips into my mouth, I grab his shoulders and pull him closer, so close I can feel his heartbeat.
My whole world comes into crystal clear focus. I’ve been living the smallest life possible all this time. Hiding to protect myself and please my mother, but I wasn’t really living at all. This is living. I am more alive than I’ve ever been and it’s like some kind of drug. I can’t get enough.
I am so caught up in the kiss and the thrill spreading through me, that at first, I don’t hear the screams.