Something Beautiful (HIATUS)

CHAPTER ONE

"What makes you ask that?"

He sighed again and glanced over at me. "I guess I don't...I mean, I know we haven't said it yet, and you're gung-ho about not rushing into things, and I get that, I do. But we've been together for eight months, and you'd think I'd...I mean, I'm not...I'm not sure."

"'Not sure'?" I repeated, voice hitching in frazzled confusion. "Not sure about what?" This was turning out to be a conversation I wasn't at all ready to have. If I'd had any indicators that this can of worms was the reason for his recent distance, I would have kept the can opener buried in the drawer where it belonged.

"I look at you, I look at us, together, and I think we're great. And then other times...it's like you're holding back. A lot. Like you're walking on eggshells, trying not to hurt me." The faux leather on the steering wheel cover creaked as he flexed his white-knuckled fingers. "Not all the time, just...sometimes. But it's enough to make me worry."

"Worry?"

"Yeah, Kris, worry ― that...that I'm wasting my time here."

My muscles contracted as though he'd stuck me with a knife.

Then, in an agonized whisper, "Am I wasting my time?"

The world tilted on its axis. The colossal impact of his words seemed to reverberate off the walls of the car. My lungs were coated in ice, my stomach a glacier. I fell back in my seat with a muted pfft, my puffy ski jacket squishing around me like a marshmallow.

"I don't know what to tell you." The statement sounded detached, as if it had been made by someone else. I pulled my hands into my lap, shivers working their way into my limbs that had nothing to do with the cold.

Suddenly the vehicle lurched off the road, the back end sliding dangerously as Aaron pulled the car onto the shoulder. The tires screeched, occupying my head with an ominous, slow-motion reverb that seemed to take over my senses. Aaron pumped the brakes as he settled the car into a straight line, threw the gear into Park, and punched in the red triangle on the dashboard between us; the subtle click of the hazard lights filled the cab so completely it may as well have been a bass drum. But we were unharmed, safely parked on the shoulder as the icy mist continued to cascade around us.

"What were you thinking?!" I shrieked, heart pounding as I came unglued from my seat, hands curling into fists. "You could have killed us both!"

"I can't drive and talk about this." He wouldn't look at me, but his voice was low and tight. It froze my heart in my throat, giving my anger pause. "You still haven't answered my question, Kris."

Ever so slowly, my fingers began to unfurl. There was a burning ache inside me so vicious it made my head throb. My tongue felt like sandpaper as I stuttered, "I-I―" I paused to collect myself.

Why couldn't I speak? My feelings for Aaron Arsane were no mystery to me ― had they ever been? ― and I was wholly certain he felt the same. And even if I hadn't been, it was clear now, with the pain in his eyes, the fear in his expression. He looked seconds away from a shattered heart.

So why can't I just tell him?

But I knew why. A mustached face flashed before me, and my esophagus shriveled, cutting off any and all words with my breath; left behind was empty gulps of nothing, my body performing out of habit.

I wanted to tell Aaron everything ― to share each thought, wish, and dream of him, to tell him how he made me feel, how much I loved spending time with him...how I secretly hoped he would choose to stay near Sageview after high school, like I planned to do, because I would never get tired of him...