DROWNING | TOM KAULITZ

• CHAPTER FOUR •

She finally turned. As always, he stunned her. It was the way he looked, or maybe the way he looked at her. She struggled to respond quickly.

"I'm well," she had answered. "You?"

"Living the dream."

"Good for you."

Behind him, at a table, she could see his date. The blonde was talking to someone beside her, paying no attention to Tom.

'Did you find her on Tinder?" Tara said.

Tom nodded toward another table, where
Tara's date sat quietly, waiting for her to return.

Not the most outgoing guy, but James didn't have to be. He looked like he was posing for a magazine.

"And him?" Tom said.

"What about him?"

Tom smiled. "No."

He turned around and walked away.

Now here he is in her apartment, saying no again but for a different reason.

Not that it matters.

This time, he doesn't mean it.

Tara walks up behind him, pushes up on her tiptoes, and whispers in his ear.

"Liar."

The thing is ...

The thing is ...

Tom doesn't know what the thing is, not when Tara is right up in his ear. When he needs rational thought the most, that definitely isn't the thing.

She has always done this to him. Starting way back in school, when they first went out.

Dates weren't really dates back then, because they were both broke, so creativity was in order.

Coffee was affordable enough.

Hiking was free. So they did both - her suggestion.

Frog Pond Trail wasn't far, and it wasn't a long hike. Not difficult, either. At least not according to the internet. But it was full of picturesque views of the water and the ridge and everything nature had to offer. Tom suggested they try it on their first date.

She agreed.

The sun was shining - not a cloud in the sky - and it all went well for the first hour and a half. They chatted about their backgrounds, stopping to take pictures every twenty feet or so. The internet wasn't wrong about the views.

Tara suddenly stopped. "I've had all the beautiful scenery I can take for one day," she said.

He had been thinking the same thing.

The trail ahead sloped down and then up.

In the distance, a giant tree stood out among the rest. He nodded toward it. "Wanna race?" Instead of answering, she took off running.

He was already a few steps behind, so he went off - trail, cutting across the hill on the left. The path was rougher, and he had to jump over a log or two, but it was the only way to get ahead.

He had almost done it when she fell.

They were less than twenty feet away from the tree when it happened, and he had been moving back toward the trail. As soon as she went down, he stopped.

She blocked the fall with her hands, ended up on her knees, and turned over to sit in the dirt. He sat down beside her.

"I guess you won," she said.

Her hands were scratched up, covered in dirt and tiny pebbles. He wiped them clean, one by one, and then moved on to her knee.

Scraped, but it wasn't too bad. He poured water over it.

"You okay?" he said.

She didn't answer.

She kissed him.

To this day, he can't describe that kiss, can't capture it with words. But when he closes his eyes, he can feel it.

It's the reason he turns around to face Tara now.

She was right.

He was lying when he said no.

♬ ♫♬ ♫

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