Could explain my fresh need to kill her mom. “Okay.”
“And I already loved you...”
I run a hand over my face. Is this the buildup before she pushes me over the edge? “Yeah?”
Echo fidgets with the end of the blanket. “Well...my virginity was mine to give. I mean, how many times have I heard over and over again that there’s only one shot at this. That there’s no take backs. That once I give it, it’s gone.”
And now she regrets it. I rub my eyes as I don’t like the wetness in them. I don’t like the way my muscles tense. I fucking love her and would stand in front of a goddamned train to protect her, and she regrets the best damned night of my life.
“I guess I’m saying,” she continues, “now that it doesn’t belong to me anymore...well...I’m glad I gave it to you. So in a weird way, my virginity is yours now. That’s something you’ll always have and...I sort of like the idea that it belongs to you.”
My head shoots up, and my heart stops beating. “What did you say?”
She bites her bottom lip. “If I’m going to be closer to someone, I’m glad it’s you. I’m glad you’re the one I gave this part of myself to.”
My mouth pops open, but no words escape. The burning wetness that was there because I thought she was going to break my heart still hovers in my eyes, but now it’s there because entire parts of me are being reborn. Parts of my soul that I thought would be dead forever.
“It’s heavy if you think about it.” She yawns. It’s an hour before dawn, too early for either of us to be awake.
“How?” I don’t care about the heaviness. I’ll take it if this is how it feels to be loved by her. I gather Echo into my arms, and she rests her head on my pillow.
“Like it gives you a power.”
“What type of power is that?” My eyelids close.
She yawns again and her words are slurred through her exhaustion. “So now that I gave you this special gift, isn’t your job to take care of it?”
Taking care of her—I can do that. “I’m going to spend my whole life making you happy.”
“You better.” Echo jerks then resettles.
She does this—falls asleep then floats into barely awake. There’s a brief few seconds where I can ask her anything, and the truth tumbles out of her mouth. I’m a dick for taking advantage of it, but I never claimed to be the good guy. “What will make you happy, Echo?”
“You,” she mumbles groggily.
Not enough. “What else? What will make you happy?”
“Staying here.” Her voice trails off toward the end. “I don’t want to go home. Ever.”
The smile on my face fades as I stare at Echo now asleep in my arms. I think of what she said when she calmed down from her night terror: I’m tired of living in the past...I don’t want to go back... We were fine after graduation and before the sand dunes. Before we talked about heading back. Everything was perfect.
She tried to tell me, several ways, but I assumed something else and cut her off. It’s like someone’s rammed a knife into my gut.
Fuck me—I took her virginity, knowing what it meant to her, and in return I promised her happiness, a home, a life, a future. How the hell could I swear promises to her when in the end, I’ve never understood what she craves out of life.
Echo
I made love to Noah Hutchins, and the entire world has continued on as normal. It seems like I should be granted the time to soak this in, to sort out the emotions and excitement and fears, but like always the world doesn’t spin in my favor.
The green trees of the forest merge into a collage as Noah flies past them in his hunt back to Vail. He works tonight and, in theory, I should be working, as well. That is, if I decide to paint the constellation Aires.
Noah’s quieter than normal. Not that he’s all conversational the majority of the time, but I catch him staring at me when he thinks I’m not paying attention. Like now, as I sit in the passenger side of my Honda Civic and scroll aimlessly through my phone, he keeps peeking at me. Real intense, as if he’s scared I’m going to go Alien and freak.
The night terror I had last night wasn’t my worst, but I’m devastated it happened. My mind has converted into an insecure seesaw, and I’m over being on the ride. But as much as I try to concentrate on a solid path, the questions continue to multiply.
For instance, now that he’s conquered me, like Beth’s continually suggesting, will Noah move on? And if that’s not the case, am I the same person to him as before we made love, and does he like what he now sees?
Because to be truthful, deep underneath my skin, in the light of morning, Noah appears different to me. Not in a bad way, but just...changed.