Playing (Inked Hearts 2)

The ocean makes me think of Iris's eyes.

It's not nearly as brilliant or deep. Not nearly as inviting.

My attention stays on her. The way her lips turn down or up. The way her hips sway as she walks. Where her gaze shifts—sometimes the sky, sometimes the ocean, sometimes Dean or Brendon or my chest or waist or ass, but never my eyes.

It's the same the way back.

It's the same when we get into the car. She clicks her seatbelt, flips the radio on, leans back, and looks out the window.

"You okay?" I turn the car on. Hit my blinker.

"Yeah. Tired. It felt good moving my body. I'm sure that's obvious to you, but it's been a long time since I've really exercised. I used to sit a lot. At work. And I do now. I mostly sit and study. So it's kind of a revelation that moving feels good. Or that hiking feels good. But it really is amazing, the fresh air and the view. And everything."

"It is." I turn. "We can do it again sometime."

"Yeah. We should. But, um, later. I'm wiped. It was a lot." She leans down to pull her water bottle from her backpack. "Not for you, I guess?"

"The heat always drains me."

"Yeah." She plays with the cap of her water bottle. "Me too." She takes a long sip. "I'm good. Really."

She's not.

But then neither am I.

* * *

I pull onto my street.

Iris leans forward to turn the music down. The sounds of pop-rock fall to a murmur—where do they get off continuing to call this station K Rock and playing this stuff?

"I, um." She pulls her arms over her chest. "I think I should head home. It's late."

It's not. The sun is just starting to set.

"I took the bus to the shop.” She pulls her backpack onto her lap. "Do you think you can drop me off in Brentwood? It's Saturday, so there shouldn't be too much traffic."

"Yeah, sure." I pull into my parking space. "But I gotta piss first."

"Oh. Sure."

"You can stay in the car or come in."

"I'll use the bathroom too." She shakes her empty water bottle. "And refill this."

I turn the car off, undo my seatbelt, pull the door open, press it shut.

Is this it?

The second shit gets complicated, we walk?

Am I that unable to discuss Sabrina with someone?

To share the one fucking thing I can't figure out with someone?

Iris slides her backpack onto one shoulder and presses the door closed. Her eyes meet mine for a second then they're on the concrete.

I motion after you.