Where Sea Meets Sky(107)

But there’s no time for me to get lost on that panic-induced train of thought. The instructor makes me shimmy over to the door, and before I know what’s going on, the air is blasting me in the face and the world is thousands of feet below me. I think he’s counting down.

It doesn’t matter.

My feet have gone over the edge.

I’m falling.

The only thing I can think about is how fast it feels, but my mind keeps telling me that I’m not falling at all, that I’m floating on a big cushion of air instead. Air is a lot more solid than you think. Up here, it’s tangible, something you can hug or even fuck, I think to myself, almost smiling. I’m fucking the air, fucking the earth, and then the parachute is expanding above us, yanking us upward, and the weird little world I’m living in is gone and replaced with one my mind can better comprehend.

My instructor tells me something that sounds like we’re at five thousand feet—I can’t really recall from the safety videos where we’re supposed to be when we pull the chute. Now the dizzying vertigo sets in as Lake Taupo and the white peaks of the surrounding volcanoes rush toward me. My brain feels blitzed out, short-circuited, and all thoughts shut down. I can only dangle in my harness as we slice through the air on the way to the ground.

I make it. And when I’m free from the harness, I run, stagger, to Gemma and scoop her up in my arms, embracing her, spinning her around like the sappiest little shit who ever fell in love. She giggles and laughs and her eyes are like a spear to my heart and her smile is the sweetest sword and I think to myself, How can I possibly leave her, this place. How can I ever let her go?

So, I decide on a new plan.

I won’t let her go.

I’ll stay.





Chapter Twenty-One

GEMMA

Dawn creeps up on us like flaming fingers reaching through the night. I stand outside of Mr. Orange, leaning against his solid mass, and watch the sky light up in the east. We freedom-camped along some unnamed river in the Northland, aka illegally parked overnight somewhere to sleep. When we stopped by the river so Josh could take a leak, we decided we didn’t want to move. We’d be staying at my grandfather’s soon, and it would be nice to be truly alone. No family, no other caravans, just us.

But the solitude is gnawing at me. I woke up early, feeling restless, anxious. Out here, in the chill of fading night, I can breathe.

Just barely, though.

It’s New Year’s Eve tonight, which means it’s a whole new year tomorrow. Which means eleven days from now, Josh is leaving. I can’t even comprehend the loss right now, and it’s not because I’m numb. It’s because I’m feeling too much. I don’t know what to do with it. I don’t know where to place these feelings, how to deal with them. I want there to be a cage where they can stay and not cause anyone any trouble.

But I’m struggling against my instincts. If I did that, locked my feelings away, then I wouldn’t have anything for the here and now. I wouldn’t feel like my soul is constantly in bloom. Every day it keeps getting prettier, feeling better, growing, and part of me is afraid it might never stop. It’s infinite, like the tattoo on my neck, like the pendant on Josh’s necklace.

When that first sun rose over that deserted beach on the East Cape and my fingers captured that moment, that feeling—hazy, grand, messy, warm—I felt like my heart rose as well.

I was shining on the inside.

It’s all because of Josh. All because of this funny, sexy, handsome, generous, adorable man who knows my body better than I do, who sees the real me underneath the ice and isn’t afraid of her. Who believes in who I am and what I can do, more than I can believe it myself.

That morning he showed me what he saw in me, and it was beautiful.

That morning I realized I love him. Deeply, desperately, dangerously.

I am in love with Joshua Miles, and it’s bringing me to life.

It’s killing me.

It’s making me crazy.

I think I love that part, too.

It twists and loops around us, tying us to one another. It steals my thoughts and makes me think of him. It steals my hands and makes me touch his skin. It’s brutal and kind and sharp and soft and warm and cold and freeing and imprisoning. It’s an incognito imposter taking over my world, spreading itself like a disease.

It’s a million and one things, and it’s real to the bone.

It’s in my bones.

It’s love. And I have no idea what it’s going to do next.

I can only hope that I’ll have the strength to keep it in line.

I stand outside, lost in my thoughts until the black fades to blue and the sun spears my eyes. I hear Josh stirring inside the bus.

“Baby,” he calls out, voice hoarse with sleep. I’ve started to love it when he calls me that. He doesn’t say it often, but when he does it is so sincere I can’t help but melt.