THE WATERFALL: 2

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We sit on the rock a little while longer, my side resting against Aaron's. His skin is warm and soft, but his knots of muscle are firm under my weight. We let the sun get lazy in the sky, talking and thinking, until it's beating down on us with unrelenting force. The air around us steams and turns humid, making sweat prickle on my forehead. Within seconds, the rock begins to bake beneath us.

"Let's keep going," Aaron says, standing up and straightening his swimming trunks. He stretches languidly, yawning. His eyes glimmer. "Your surprise is up ahead."

"I'm beginning to have suspicions about your 'surprise'," I prod, jumping off the rock. It's begun to feel like an inferno.

"It's nothing like you've ever tried." Aaron takes my hand. "But you'll like it. I promise."

I follow him deeper into the underbrush, already knowing where we're headed. "I trust you," I respond. "And hopefully your idea isn't as crazy as the one I think you have."

"Probably crazier," Aaron responds, smirking.

As expected, we climb up the jaggedly cut rocks to the waterfall. My swimsuit rubs smoothly against my skin, burning the parts of my body that it touches. "I'm getting a bad idea about this," I say slowly, heart pounding. My pulse is almost as loud as the waves crashing in the distance, the view of the waterfall shrouded by trees and bushes. I'm pretty sure I know what Aaron's 'surprise' is, but I refuse myself to believe it. While my attitude may be drastic, my non-existent daredevil side is not.

"You'll love it," Aaron promises. He gives my hand a reassuring squeeze, enough to quell my fear a bit.

The air is misty and cool, a sharp and satisfying contrast from the rest of the forest. The humidity in the air has completely vanished, drowning us in slight breezes and a dewy aroma. I stretch my hand to the side, my skin tingling when miniscule droplets hit my skin. Little asteroids, and I am the moon.

After a long climb, we finally reach the top. I stare at the ground we now trod on, remnants of the other night swarming me in flashes. The pain is a distant memory, but it's a ghost at the corner of my vision, ready to come out to play. I lock it in its playroom, but everyone knows that ghosts can go through doors.

Aaron beckons me closer, setting a hand on my back. The spray of water is like a fountain, rushing up to meet us, and I feel like I'm drenched already. Aaron's loose tank top whips around his chest, and I lock my eyes to the water crashing down below us. His skin is pebbled with little droplets, racing down his arms. With a glance, I realize that mine are similar. I rub the water away, but it quickly reemerges. I rub and rub and rub, but it never leaves.

Aaron notices my hand frantically rubbing the skin off my arm. He sets a warm hand atop of mine, stilling my movements instantly. He says something to me, but over the roar of the waves, his voice dissipates in thin air. "What?!" I scream, close to his ear.

"Take your shirt off!" Aaron hollers back, beginning to thread his arms through his tank top. I stare, gawking. I'm mentally kicking myself, part of my brain yelling I told you so, part of my brain wondering what are the chances of death and another earth-shattering migraine, and the other part committing Aaron's bare chest to memory.

"I'll keep my hands to myself, I promise!" Aaron throws his tank on the ground, shuddering as a fresh spray of water hits him. "C'mon! C'mon!"

Perhaps the nature around me is clouding my judgement, perhaps the cacophony around me is making me drunk. Without a thought, I mindlessly peel my t-shirt and shorts off, turning to him. The cold is instantaneous, making goosebumps spread like wildfire on my arms and legs. I think about what I'm about to do, and I think of Aaron doing it with me.

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