I try to force myself to move away, but I can’t.

He’s making me feel.

He rests his forehead on mine. “For everything.”

I return his embrace, and he holds on to me tighter, his cast now ruined, drenched by the rain. I surrender in his arms, and take a breath, and then another, watching the beads of water fall from his lashes with each blink. His gaze drops to my mouth quickly, then to my eyes, and down again, over and over. My heart’s racing now, my fingers aching from their grip on his shirt. His chest rises and falls against mine, matching his gaze… from my eyes to my lips, up and down, and I can’t take my eyes off his. He exhales slowly, his breath mixing with mine. I lick my lips, and his eyes drift shut. He moans when my shaky hands find his hair, tugging desperately. I push aside my fear, my confusion, just for a moment as I use his embrace to keep me upright. “Goddammit,” he groans, his hesitation clear. I close my eyes and lean closer into him. Then I rise to my toes, my lips craving his. But he doesn’t move. Not the slightest. I freeze, my lips an inch from his, waiting for him to make the first contact. He doesn’t, though. Instead, his hand drifts to the small of my back, his touch like fire, burning flames igniting my soul. “You know me, Becca. You know my heart. And you know I’d never take another guy’s girl. Never. But you’re not just a girl to me and you never have been. If you need me to prove that to you, I will. If you want me to fight for you, I will. If you want me to go to war for you, I fucking will. You know that. Somewhere, deep in here”—he places his hand on my chest and my eyes snap open, meeting his—“you know I would. But you need to give me a sign so I know that it’s not for nothing. You have to give me something. I can’t go through that heartache again.”

My breath gets lost in his words while I get lost in his eyes, eyes that completely expose me. So I do the only thing I can think to do…

I ruin us.

Then I rush up the stairs, my shame like heavy weights around my ankles. Through silent sobs and hurtful regrets, I reach for the doorknob, but it’s not my room I go into, it’s the room next door.

I stand at the edge of the bed and grab the phone on the nightstand, my hands shaking as I type out a text. I lower the sheets, and without a thought to my current soaking state, I welcome the warmth of the body next to me.

“Becca?” Grams says, sitting up. She switches on the lamp on her nightstand before facing me. “Oh, sweetheart. What happened?” She combs her fingers through my hair then looks down at the phone in my trembling hands.

I kissed Josh.

Journal

He peels away the layers

Of fear and of pain

Leaving me exposed

From my heart to my veins

While I tiptoe the land mines

Of scene after scene

Waiting for the destruction

That left us unclean

But I worship the moments

That kept us bare

And I hold them there

With safe touches

And gentle words

And silent tears

And silent cries

Beneath silent stars

And when I close my eyes

I push down the hurt

Of a three-year-old smiling

His face covered in dirt

~ ~

9

—Joshua—

Five months ago I skated a comp that, if won, would rank me fourth in the world. I had one final trick up my sleeve and 11.3 seconds on the clock.

When I poured my heart out to Becca, begging her to forgive me, asking her to give me a sign that she still felt everything I felt, I had the same feeling. One last trick. One last chance.

I started my run up, board in my hand and my mind already three seconds ahead. Then I dropped the board, and I kicked and I pushed, focused on the grind rail in front of me. Focused on the prize.

World Ranking.

Becca.

There are two parts to completing a trick. The landing and the balance to continue. I found myself in the air, the clock ticking down, and my board flipping somewhere beneath me. The second my toes touched the grip tape, I knew I had the landing down.

When Becca’s lips met mine, cold and wet and perfect, I knew I’d landed my last trick. Landed her.

A second later, the board tipped forward, throwing me completely off balance. My foot came down an inch too close to the front of the deck, and I fell nose first on the ground. Blood poured everywhere, taking my pride with it.

Just like Becca when she walked away from me.

But there’s a reason why skaters skate. Why we bust a trick fifty times just to nail it once. Why we suffer broken bones and bruises and scrapes over and over. It’s all in our heads. We deceive our minds into believing that there is no pain. That’s when the adrenaline kicks in. And the adrenaline is what we live for. We fall. We get back up. We kick. We push. Again and again. Because the joy of success is greater than the depression of failure.