“It’s okay, Celia. Just breathe. Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours,” I say, running my hand down the length of her arm and taking her hand, giving her the time she needs to gather her thoughts.

She shakes her head and opens her misty blue eyes. I see through her, inside the deepest parts of her, and she can’t hide the war within herself. The push and pull. The want and regret. The battle I’m fighting to win is taking its toll.

“My heart isn’t mine to give. I wish it were, but I lost it a long time ago. I don’t think I can be what you need. What you deserve. I’m not available for that sort of thing,” she whispers softly. Her expression is pained, and I want to fight her. I want to tell her how wrong she is—her heart isn’t lost, it’s only confused. I will fight her on this, but now is not the time. I give her a slight nod and let the issue lie … for now.

“C’mere,” I say, raising my arm in invitation. “Lay back and listen to the music.”

She scoots closer and puts her head back in my lap and closes her eyes. I rest my head on the tree and do the same. The birds put on a hell of a concert. As time passes, Celia’s breathing evens out, and I think she’s been lulled into an afternoon nap. I’m not far behind when Celia shifts slightly, grabbing my attention.

“They worry about you, ya know?” she whispers.

“Mom and Mo?”

“Yeah. They think you’re a grazer—that you’ll never settle on anyone.”

“Is that so?” I chuckle and roll my eyes.

“Yep,” she answers with a giggle. “Mo says you’re a cow grazing the field. You chew the cud, spit it out, and keep on moving.”

“Women are the cud in this analogy?”

“It seems so.”

I let out a sigh. “I’m not a grazer, Celia. But I refuse to make promises I can’t keep.”

She remains quiet. From the outside looking in, I guess I look like a grazer of sorts, and I’m not sure how to make her understand my point.

“The thing is, I had a girlfriend in college. By girlfriend, I mean I was faithful and had a good time with her. Unfortunately, it meant something different to her. She saw an engagement ring, wedding bells, and two-point-five kids with the last name Bennett. There were lots of tears and hurt feelings when things ended. I take responsibility for that—I wasn’t clear from the beginning. Kimberly didn’t deserve that.”

“So now?”

“Now?” I shrug my shoulders and smile. “I keep things light. When my feelings change, so will my approach. Until then, I won’t promise anything more than a good time. Promises are just pretty lies.”

“Promises are pretty lies,” she whispers, then turns away from me, curling her knees into her chest.

“Hey now,” I say, tugging a wisp of her hair. “Where’d you go?”

She breathes in deeply and shakes her head. “I’m here.”

Every time I feel I’m making progress with Celia, something pulls her away from me again. I can’t get a hold of what’s on the other end of this tug of war. The only thing I know for certain is I’m not fucking letting go. I’m gonna break through this fog, and she’ll see what I’ve known all along—she and I could be great together. Who am I kidding? We’d be fucking amazing. Epic.

“The question is, are you ready for the real show?” I say with a waggle of my eyebrows and a tap on her back, coaxing her to sit up.

“There’s more?”

“Pfft,” I say with an eye roll. “Who do you think you’re talking to? I’ve always got something up my sleeve, girl.”

I stand and dust off as she giggles and joins me. I turn around and motion for her to jump on my back, and she hops on without hesitation.

“Now, bringing Biz out here is absolute mayhem, but there’s no reason we can’t make a little ruckus, right?” I ask, turning to meet her eyes.

“I … guess ... so,” she answers. “What exactly do you have in mind?”

I shoot her a mischievous smile and wink as I spread my arms wide. Fingertip to fingertip, I can touch trees on both sides. I grab branches on both sides and give them a hard tug, then holler as I shake down the house.

“What the…” Celia yelps as the birds shoot out of the trees—a spray of color, feathers, and caws showering us in unison.

Celia bursts into laughter as I break out into a full run, grabbing branches all the way down the row. Feathers brush our faces like raindrops, and several strategic ducking maneuvers keep us from getting pummeled. I turn back and see Celia’s head thrown back on a howl, fist pumping the air. She’s never looked more beautiful.

When I reach the end of the row, I bend over and grab my knees to catch my breath. Celia tightens around my neck and waist, hanging on as giggles overtake her. I stand up and turn around to survey the damage. Feathers of every color litter the ground, some still fluttering in the air. The melodic music from before has morphed into full-on squawking, and I fear there may be retaliation in our future.

“Celia, I think we should get out of here before this turns into a Hitchcock movie,” I whisper as I take silent steps of retreat.

Her eyes grow wide, but her smile stays firmly in place. “I think you’re right—about the Hitchcock movie … and about earlier,” she says as she gives my body a tight squeeze.

I smirk and chuckle as quietly as possible. “What am I right about this time, Tink?” I whisper.

“I may just want to be happy.”

With every word, she makes my heart pump that much faster, that much stronger.

I’m gonna teach you to live again, Tink, just you watch.

“Running to Stand Still” by U2

The Past

I REACH THE end of the corridor and find the office door open, and I know he’s waiting for me. I stop short of the entryway and take a moment to collect myself—to plant the phony smile on my face. It’s the smile everyone expects from me, and I’ve never been one disappoint. I rap my knuckles lightly on the doorframe before giving myself too much time to dwell.

“Ah, Celia, my illustrious valedictorian. Come in, come in, have a seat,” Mr. Bernard, my school’s guidance counselor, says as he walks around his desk and sits down in one of the guest chairs, tapping the other seat with his hand.

“Hey Mr. Bernard. I know I’m supposed to give you a copy of my graduation speech today, but it’s not quite ready. I’ve been so busy, and I need a little more time—”

He taps my knee in comfort. “No worries, I know you’ve been busy, my dear.”

I look away, unable to meet his eyes. I have been busy, but that’s not the reason I don’t have a speech to show him. The truth is, I’m finding it exceedingly difficult to be inspirational lately. How can I deliver a speech about bright futures and following dreams when I feel mired in perpetual darkness?

“Thank you, sir.”

“So, it’s Northern U in the fall, I hear. Full scholarship, of course.” I nod my head and force a smile. “Well, they’re lucky to have you.”

“I’m honored they chose me.”

“The next four years are some of the best, Celia. You be sure you get your head out of the books every once in awhile and enjoy it, ya hear me?”

“I will, Mr. Bernard. I’m so excited for the fall,” I lie, but thankfully he doesn’t take notice.

I can’t muster up an ounce of excitement for the future, because I’m living day to day at this point. Who can think of frat parties and dorm life when I’m constantly worried about Lucas? About Grams? How can I be excited for the future when I can’t shake this ominous feeling? What if keeping Lucas’s secret is the worst decision I’ve ever made?

The smallest things are a struggle for him lately. He obsesses over his thoughts being stolen. He’ll only eat packaged foods now, for fear he’s being poisoned. If there is even the tiniest indication the packaging of the food has been tampered with, he refuses to eat it.