Somewhere Between Water and Sky (Shattered Things #2) (27 page)

Blink blink. Stare.

The timer dings and no one even notices.

“
I
’
m sorry.
”
Ren is the first to speak.
“
Did you say you ran from a train? Like on its tracks?
”

I nod.
“
We thought they were inactive. At least
—
until we were on the bridge and we heard it rumble and felt the tracks shake.
”

Jessa
’
s eyes grow into saucers.

“
Shit.
”
She mutters.

I keep my face straight.
“
No.
Good
shit. It really was amazing. Thrilling. Scary as fuck when it happened but still exhilarating.
”
I point to her drink.

“
Drink up, Jess. Timer went off.
”

Ren throws up his hands and does the robot.

“
Timer went off!
”

Jessa starts laughing and grabs her drink, then thinks twice and sets it down before grabbing my own. Within two gulps the rest of my coffee is gone and Jessa is slamming the cup on the table.

“
Another pox on you for finishing my coffee before I could!
”
I grab my cup to refill it.
“
Remind me not to go out with you when I turn 21.
”
I refill my glass and then reach for the timer, turning it all the way around before setting it back down in front of me.

“
Now, Ren. I believe it
’
s your turn. Where for art thou good shit?
”

Chapter Fourteen

The game lasts for another forty minutes and only stops when Jessa puts her hands up in surrender.

“
I call it.
”
She groans.

I
’
m only slightly disappointed. Although it
’
s obvious Jessa is having difficulty staying on her chair by herself, I was becoming more and more amused by the answers they were willing to throw out the more they drank.

Riding down a hill on your stomach with a skateboard
and
skinny dipping in the ocean
and
playing the will it blow up game
were some of my favorites.

Ren scratches his chin.
“
Yeah.
”
He looks at his almost empty glass and frowns.
“
I
’
m not sure vodka was a good friend to me tonight.
”
He looks at Jessa.
“
This isn
’
t going to be pretty. I have to open tomorrow.
”

She places her hand on his arm.

“
Is it okay if I leave my car here overnight? Stephanie and I can take the bus home. I won
’
t be driving.
”

He reaches for her keys still dangling out of her nearby purse.

“
It
’
s more than okay. You
’
re not leaving here with these.
”

“
Good thing I don
’
t really need a house key, huh?
”
She leans over and pecks him on the cheek.

“
See you tomorrow some time?
”

He nods and smiles at her, briefly touching the tip of her nose with his finger.

“
Tomorrow,
”
he promises.
“
I
’
ll call you after my shift.
”

She turns toward me.
“
Are you ready?
”

I nod and move to stand, helping her up and holding out my hands to make sure she doesn
’
t fall. She brushes me off and stands on her own, not even flinching or wobbling when she leans over and grabs her purse.

“
You are far more mobile on your feet than I anticipated.
”

She smiles and motions for the door.

“
This is where my talent for handling my liquor mixes with all of the dance training I had in school. Grace is an under-celebrated skill when one
’
s inebriated.
”

I watch her place one foot in front of the other with ease and I raise an approved eyebrow.

“
I
’
m feeling slightly better about accompanying you down the street, now.
”

She grabs a glass full of water on the counter on our way out and finishes it within a few seconds.

“
Hydration, Stephanie. Remember that. It
’
s all about hydration.
”

“
Noted,
”
I reply, and we say our goodbyes and walk out into the windy coastal air.

She lifts her hands slightly and lets her arms float in the breeze.

“
I love nights like this, where there
’
s the hint of summer in the wind. It doesn
’
t have that bite anymore
—
the one that makes you reach closer around you? It
’
s more of a caress. I can feel my muscles relax.
”

I look at her.

“
Sounds like a poem right there.
”

She does a little spin in my direction.
“
Ooooh. You
’
re right.
”
Fumbling for something in her purse, she pulls out a Sharpie.

“
How about we not get arrested for defacing public property.
”

She laughs.

“
No. Not public property.
”
She lifts up her arms and writes down the words in what looks like rivulets down her arm. When finished, she holds it up for me to see.

The bite is gone now,

the hurtling reminder of winter
’
s grip.

What
’
s left is the sun
’
s caress,

her whispers of life in the wind.

I make a circle with my index finger and thumb.
“
It
’
s perfect.
”

She looks down again and nods in agreement before dropping her arm and pointing for us to take a left.

We turn and immediately run into a huge crowd of people gathered around a guy dancing to music blaring out of a nearby boom-box.

Jessa breaks into a grin and walks faster to join the crowd, leaning forward on her toes to see the moves. He pop and locks and points to someone else in the crowd and she puffs out her chest as if he
’
s pulling her toward him, moving with the beat and walking into the center of the group. They choreographed a routine before this, because soon their feet are matching the thrum of the music.

And there
’
s no stopping us right now.

I nod my head in appreciation
—
this song is a favorite of mine. I
’
m caught by the movement, though. The way their limbs synchronize and pulse as part of the song. I
’
ve never been able to let myself go long enough to enjoy dancing. I
’
m all left feet and elbows. Kevin tried once to teach me how to line dance and I just tripped through the song before giving up and begging for him to just carry me home.

The music shifts and five more people from the crowd jump and maneuver their way to the center, now moving down the sidewalk. Jessa claps her hands.

“
Ohmigosh. Stephanie. I heard about this. These guys are a dance crew and go perform roaming dance parties.
”

I glance around.
“
All of these people?
”

She shakes her head.
“
No. Some of them are just bystanders
—
people on the street when that guy first started dancing.
”
She circles with her hand toward the growing group in front of us dancing.
“
Sooner or later, they
’
ll move down the street to their next spot
—
the last one went all night long before they decided to end it
—
the crowd was just getting too big.
”
She turns her wide eyes toward me.
“
Can you imagine? Dancing all night? That
’
s amazing.
”

I watch the crowd for a little while before responding.

“
That
’
s
…
yes. Amazing. Amazing is what it is
…
are we staying?
”

She
’
s not even listening anymore. Janelle Monae
’
s
Dance Apocalyptic
comes on the speakers and she squeals, beginning to bounce with the beat. A guy nearby grabs for her hand and twirls her around before breaking out into a kick-hop-swing movement of complicated dancing. Jessa answers back with her own hips moving in ways I never knew joints and bones could work together. I lose her somewhere in the crowd, but every once in a while see her rainbow hair bouncing above the rest. I smile.

She really is her own individual earthquake.

A guy comes close and holds out his hand. I widen my eyes in shock and put my hands up.

“
No thanks. I
’
m just watching.
”

He smiles.

“
Come on. I saw you move those feet every once in a while. Just let go.
”

I study him for a few seconds and he just waits, arm akimbo.

I could do a lot of things here.

I could run, because the amount of human energy pressing into my own is nothing short of overwhelming and electric.

But
…
the atmosphere is haunting. Alive. It
’
s pulsing with the beat of this growing crowd
’
s heart and I kind of love it.

No more running,
Jessa had said earlier.

I
’
m tired of saying no to everything.

I
’
m tired of thinking that life is not for me
—
that these experiences are kept close to the chest of those who live a privileged life of hope and continued promises coming true.

I look toward the sky and hide a smile. It
’
s moments like this I breathe in the ache of missing Kevin. I wish he could see me now. I wish he could experience
this
Stephanie instead of the one who hid with fear and wonder at everything that came her way.

I already know what I
’
m going to do. I think I knew the second I lost Jessa in the mass of people.

I glance at this stranger
’
s eyes and see nothing but kindness and life and adventure and I don
’
t know what
’
s gotten into me but I don
’
t think
—
for once I just don
’
t think about anything
—
but I smile back and place my hand in his and then we
’
re moving with the music and I
’
m laughing and throwing back my head and watching the stars above and turning with the beat and letting everything fill my senses as the songs keep coming and we keep moving and the scenery keeps changing.

.::.