Page 15 of The Now in Forever

TEN YEARS AGO

W e make it to the beach, underneath the railroad bridge.

There’s a group of people set up around a bonfire built in a circle of rocks on the sand.

I lean my bike against one of the massive pillars of the bridge.

Ed interlocks his fingers through mine, and the butterflies in my stomach go wild.

He introduces me to some people, none of the names I remember because I’m so hyper-focused on Ed’s hand in mine, his palm rough, his fingers warm.

It’s cool that he’s leaving. We can still stay in touch, and if somehow that doesn’t work, we can still enjoy this night together. I’m going to live in the moment.

We find a spot a little ways away from the main group—out of the smoke of the fire.

Ed lets my hand go, and I almost let out an audible disappointed sigh but catch myself.

He unzips his backpack, pulls out a green and black–striped Mexican blanket, and spreads it out on the warm sand.

Making a grand motion with his arms, gesturing to the blanket like a magician completing a trick, he’s smiling from ear to ear.

“After you,” Ed says in a terrible fake British accent.

“Why thank you, kind sir,” I say in my best Cockney, which is also terrible.

We sit crisscross on the blanket, so close the loose threads from his ripped jeans tickle my knee. Ed goes back into his backpack and pulls out two ham and cheese Lunchables, the kind with the little Hershey bar as a treat, and hands me one.

“Your dinner, madam.”

I laugh. “Wow. It’s so elegant. You didn’t have to go to so much trouble.”

“No trouble at all. They were a dollar at the NHGO.”

“You got these at the Grocery Outlet?” I check the expiration date.

“Hey. These things will outlive us all. At the end of time, it’ll just be these and Twinkies we’re left with.” Ed’s eyes spark. He grabs his notebook and scribbles away. “I might add that to my book.”

“What’s it about again?”

Ed tells me all about his book, which sounds wild but intelligent and interesting—a lot like him, really.

He trades me my ham for his cheese. The savory orange squares combined with the salty crackers are surprisingly delicious.

I open my chocolate. It’s melty from the heat of the day and sticks to the wrapper.

I try to put it in my mouth without touching it, and I’m mostly successful.

Ed is laughing, watching me maneuver the wrapper open and into my mouth.

“What?” I ask through a mouthful of chocolate.

He shakes his head. “Nothing. Very graceful.”

I’m about to wipe the melted chocolate left on my lip, when Ed raises his hand to my face. He cups my cheek gently and runs his thumb over my lip, wiping the chocolate away.

My heart literally stops, and this is how I die. From Ed touching my face.

He licks the chocolate off his thumb. I am a puddle of lust.

Ed leans in, and our lips connect. I half expected his lips to be rough, like his hands, but they are soft and light as feathers floating on a summer breeze. Needing more, I increase the pressure, losing myself in our kiss, until we both hear a wolf whistle and someone shouts, “Get a room.”

We break apart.

Ed hands me his Hershey bar with a devilish smile. “Want mine?”

After we finish our Lunchables, Ed fishes two beers out of the backpack and hands me one.

I hate beer, especially the cheap light stuff, but when in Rome…

I crack it open and take a sip, the liquid light and filled with bubbles popping on my tongue.

Someone brought a guitar and is softly playing “Oh You Pretty Things,” the sound of the waves from the bay lapping beneath making the song perfect.

Ed sips his beer, the waning sun illuminating his green eyes and highlighting his strong jaw.

He is breathtaking. I’m struck by how odd it is that I didn’t know him yesterday. He catches me looking at him and winks.

“Bet you don’t have sunsets like this out in Montana.”

“Believe it or not, we have sunsets there too.”

He laughs, giving my thigh a little push. “Smart-ass. Not many bays though.”

I nod, taking another sip of my beer. This time it’s not as biting, a little more refreshing. “This is true. No bays, no ocean.”

There’s a long pause, and then he says, “I think I’ll always live next to the sea.”

“Okay, Ahab.”

He smiles but gazes out at the water. “Har, har. But honestly, I don’t think I could live far from the water. It’s so soothing, you know? I get some of my best ideas just staring out at the waves.”

We both stare out at them, the rhythmic swells and contractions hypnotizing in its pattern.

Ed reaches over on the blanket and finds my hand, holding it in his.

His hand is warmer than the air around us.

With the sun dipping below the horizon, and the breeze of the water, it’s gotten a little cooler.

Ed tears his eyes away from the view, turning to face me. He lies on the blanket, propping himself up on his elbow but still holding my hand lightly, tickling my fingers and palm. “Tell me more about this book club.”

I sigh. “Not much to tell. It’s with my two best friends, Robin and Anh.”

Ed nods. “And you’ve known each other since you were kids?”

“Yeah. I visit every summer, so I get to see them then. And we read our books, hang out. ”

“It must be lonely having your best friends live a couple states away.”

I start in on my usual deflection. “I have other friends.” There’s a whole rehearsed speech that comes after this about how it’s good for us.

We get to be our own people, and we have things to talk about when we come back together.

But it’s not the truth. Not really. I lie down, matching Ed’s posture, propping my head up on my elbow but still fiddling with his fingers with my other hand, tracing the letters on his knuckles.

“It is lonely. Anh and Robin are together all year long. They share classes, they went to prom as a double date, and they pop over on Christmas to say hi. Sometimes I feel like a third wheel. They’re a grade ahead of me too.

Anh’s birthday is in April, and Robin’s is in July.

Mine’s in October. They both started high school before me. They both graduated before me.”

Ed nods, showing that he’s listening, but he doesn’t try to fill any pauses in my confession.

“Sometimes I worry that if I lived here full-time, we wouldn’t be friends. Like the novelty of me would wear off.”

Ed frowns. “I know that I have only known you—” he looks at his watch, a large leather band with a cracked glass face “—not even twelve hours, but you are not a novelty. I don’t think anyone would see you that way, ever.”

His words warm my chest, a heat that slowly spreads through my body. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

He smiles, a crooked mischievous smile that I want to kiss off his face, but I’m not bold enough to make that move yet.

Someone runs over, popping our bubble and kicking sand onto the blanket. I sit up, and so does Ed. The guy offers a joint to Ed. “Nah.” He turns to me. “Want some?”

“No, thanks.”

“Cool, cool.” The guy leaves as fast as he came, sand flying all around him.

“You could’ve…” I motion to the people smoking. “I don’t mind.”

He slices his hand through the air like an umpire signaling you’re out. “Nope. Every time I smoke, I think I’m dying, and the only thing that helps is watching episode after episode of SpongeBob .”

I smile. “ SpongeBob ?”

“I find Patrick very soothing.”

The sun blazes on its last descent, lighting up the sky in deep oranges, pink rippling the clouds above as purple takes over the sky.

We watch the sunset, holding hands, sitting close enough I can feel the warmth of his thigh through his tattered jeans.

As soon as the last twinkle dips below the water, Ed whispers in my ear, “Let’s get out of here. ”

“Where?”

Even in the dark, his eyes glimmer. “I have an idea.”

I hesitate, and he grabs my hand. “Do you trust me?”

Searching my body for the answer, my limbs feel warm and light. Even though I’ve only known him a handful of hours, something in me trusts him. I smile. “I do.”