Losing It

It’s not beautiful and free.

It’s ugly and suffocating.

I just…

There’s no reason to focus on August.

Not when I have now.

“You okay?” Wes’s voice is soft. Caring.

I nod sure and pick up my speed. I need to keep my mind occupied. So it won’t go back to those awful subjects.

“Quinn?”

“Imagining buying one of those giant houses.”

“Fuck, think I’d need to own three tattoo shops.”

“Or you could be a reality TV star. What was that show called? With the woman who launched a makeup line?” Some kind of animal. Foxie. Or Rex. Or Kat maybe.

“You think I know makeup lines?”

“It’s very reputable.”

“Even so.” He catches up to me. Stays close, but not as close as he was earlier.

“Maybe you had a thing for eyeliner in high school.”

“You think I could pull it off?”

“A charcoal pencil on your top lid? Definitely.” I try to make my voice teasing, but I don’t get there. August is already weighing on me.

“Good to know.” He laughs, but there’s something missing in it.

He knows I’m drifting off.

I try to bring myself back to the moment.

It’s a beautiful blue day. We’re in paradise. I’m with the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.

But, God, med school is weeks away.

In August, I leave.

I return to Chicago.

I go to med school.

I…

Ugh.

I round the curve.

Another set of houses come into view. A backyard with a massive pool. One covered in sculptures. An overflowing garden. “You could be the next reality TV star.”

“Not sure anyone at the shop would go for it.”

“Would you?”

“No.” His fingers brush mine. “Where are you going, Quinn?”

“Nowhere.”

“Somewhere.”

“It’s nothing.” I walk faster, but that doesn’t really accomplish anything. It’s still there. It’s everywhere.

“It would be nice. Owning a place like this.” He motions to the backyard with the giant pool. “Could skinny dip every night.”

“Or all day.”

“Wouldn’t get much done.”

“Would you care?”

He shoots me a curious look.

“Do you really need work to fill your soul. Or is it just… work?”

“Fuck, my soul? We’re really escalating.” His voice is teasing. But it’s not too. There’s something in it. He knows I’m getting at something.

I nod.

He moves closer. Interlocks his fingers with mine.

It steadies me.

But not enough.

There’s no denying it.

I leave in two weeks.

He’s being all sweet and caring and loving, but what does that matter?

This ends in two weeks.

I can’t have him acting like this.

Not if I lose it in two weeks.

His voice is soft. Honest. “The other day, Brendon told me my work was generic.”

“Yeah?”

He nods. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I do a good job with my shit. I make clients happy. I can earn a living like this forever. But my soul?”

“You’re not pouring your heart out?” I bite my lip. I want to pull back the walls around his heart. I want to know everything.

But I can’t have that.

We can’t have that.

He nods. “Maybe that’s good.”

“Less painful.”

“Yeah. But there’s something missing too.” His gaze shifts to the sky. “I don’t know. I always figured it was better to keep things light. That’s the only thing that kept everyone laughing. But I guess you can’t run forever.”

I swallow hard. He’s talking about himself. Not me. But it feels so… accurate.

His gaze shifts to me. He lifts his sunglasses. Then mine. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t bullshit me.”

“I’m just… thinking.”

“About?”

I lower my sunglasses. Motion to the path ahead.

He follows me down the dirt.

He stays right next to me.

He stays tuned to me.

I try to walk faster, but it’s not like there’s an escape nearby. Just the sun, the dirt, and the two of us.

He keeps pace with me with ease. “You love California.”

“Yeah.” The awkward conversation doesn’t detract from the beauty of the scenery. “I love the look of the desert.” I motion to the scraggly bushes. “And the beach too. You have everything here.”

“You complimented the mall at Hollywood and Highland.”

“It’s not the least touristy spot, but—”

“Why are you going back to Chicago?”

I stop dead in my tracks. I… He… “I told you. That’s the best med school I got into.”

“You sound excited about it.”

“Fuck off.” I drop his hand. Fuck this. He doesn’t do this. We’re having a nice day. We’re avoiding the subject of August. Of this ending.

“Quinn.” He runs to meet me. “I’m not trying to push.”

“Right.”

“Just tell me why.”

“Why what?” I fold my arms over my chest, but it feels too pissy. I’m not a child throwing a tantrum. I’m an adult in an adult relationship with an equal.

“Why are you going to med school?”

I unpeel my arms. Press them to my sides. “That’s the plan.”

“So?”

“So?” I stare back at him, but it does nothing to convey my feelings. Just gets me lost in his gorgeous blue eyes.

“Yeah, so? Maybe you need a new plan.”

A new plan… “Are you insane?”

“Maybe, yeah.”

“I… That’s what I’m going to do.”

“What if you did something else.”

He… I… What?

“What if you weren’t a doctor?”