Sundance Kid

I could count every star in the sky and it still won’t come close to how many times I think of you each day. You remind me of that day when we were at the beach, lying on the sand with the ocean at our feet. It was high tide. The waves crashed in circular motions around us, corroding the sand, outlining us in what looked like a faint heart shaped box. I’ll remember that day, always. I’ll remember the way you looked at the sky, at the oddly shaped clouds and always found something beautiful about them. I’ll remember how you looked at me like I was a work of art; a masterpiece hanging in a palace of pearls, every detail and every pore lusting with brilliant color, beauty spilling from its veins. You found me beautiful, when I did not. You thought of me fondly as we laid there in the sand, as the sun shone its bright yellow hues across our skin.

“It doesn’t matter.” You said to me when I tried to help. Stubborn, like you always were, you looked back at the sky and those oddly shaped clouds you found so amusing.

I looked up at those clouds along with you, yet decided to look at you instead. Your hair was wild in the wind; strands of brown ribbons cascading across your face. Your skin was tan, as most natives of the beach, and it blended perfectly with the crystal blueness of your eyes. You were a picture-perfect. I could’ve stared at you all day.

You leaned back; elbows propped up, head pulled back taking in a deep breath of summer mist. You loved the beach; it was your second home. Yet to an outsider, it might have been your only home.

I looked at your arms. Your shirt was rolled up high enough to see a fine outline of muscle. Swimming those extra laps each day must have paid off for the better, I always thought. You just said you did it for fun. I scanned every inch of you; you, all of you. The sight pleased my eyes and to know that you were there lying next to me eased my soul. Yet what disturbed me to the point of goose bumps were those two round and thick bruises under your thin white shirt.

“It does matter Aden!” I told him. “It does! You matter!”

“To who, Haley? To whom do I matter?”

He looked at me sternly. I had never seen him so somber. I looked up into his cerulean eyes, which glistened in the sun. Right then I wanted to tell him that he mattered to me; that he always mattered to me and always would. Yet, cat got a hold of my tongue and the words got lost in its paw. My sight parted and I ended up staring at the sand instead.

“Come on,” he said standing up and reaching for my hand. I gave it to him willingly. “Let’s go somewhere.”

“What? Where?”

“I don’t know yet,” he said gazing out at the now tamed ocean. “Anywhere but here.”

Aden helped me up and with one quick glance out into the horizon we went off somewhere, “anywhere but here.”

We entered a dim lit room. The smell of pot filled my nostrils and the sight of smoke blurred my vision. The sound of 311 blared from the speakers blended with the pounding and rubbing of bodies in the center of the room. It was very moist. There were empty beer bottles scattered amongst the various bodies passed out on the floor and sweat everywhere. The scent was uninviting.

Aden led me through the thick crowd.

The back of the house was very dark.

I wanted to ask where we were going, yet all I seemed to hear was a song teasing its way into my ears:

Anywhere but here; anywhere but here.

He led me out through the back door and into the bushes.

He took hold of my cold blue hand, his fingers gently filling the gaps between my fingers. He was the sun and I was the moon. His warm bright glow showered me with subtle kisses and I was lost in a dance and in the song:

Anywhere but here; anywhere but here.

I felt like a fugitive. Eyes open and my face painted, I ran barefooted on the sand. Yet, somehow I felt lost. I didn’t know where I was going or why I was even running. The faded colors spinning all around me confused me, yet the song kept on playing:

Anywhere but here; anywhere but here.

We then came to an abrupt stop.

I looked around. We were back on the beach, just a different part of it. The waves were mild and the orange sun was slowly setting over the horizon. The stars were waking up and the orange glow filled the air around me, making me realize that we were in a cave. I turned to Aden who was looking at the sky as if Heaven was opening its gates and angels were flying out from its depths carrying little faeries in the palms of their hands; singing a song so genuine and so soft that you would drown yourself in its mist, taking in its sweet juices, which leave you thirsting for more. I touched his cheek. It was warm like the palms of his hands. Warm, warm, oh so warm. I could have wrapped myself with them.

He averted his eyes and looked back at me. His piercing cerulean eyes calm as the sea. He kissed me. His lips; they blushed slightly as they laid themselves upon mine. What a kiss. The world had stopped spinning.