Childhood Lovers

Childhood Lovers. 26

After a long distance of running, Chase stopped us upon the rocks of the Jedi. Without fear, he effortlessly hopped from rock to rock. On the other hand, I struggled a bit more: High leveled boulders + my klutziness + darkness = falling to my death. As I traveled the Jedi path, I passed small groups of people, who were either standing in semi-circles or squatting on the cold boulders.

Once I caught up to him, Chase grabbed my wrists and pulled me close to him. Extending his finger, he pointed in the direction of dozens of ships lit up in neon colors.

“What is this . . .?” I whispered.

“You’ll see,” Chase replied, leaving me in anticipation. “Any minute now.”

The wind and the drop in air temperature on the Jedi brought goose bumps to my skin. Crossing my arms around my chest, I leaned into Chase’s silhouette, trying to absorb his body warmth. He tightened his grip around me, and rubbed my arms, trying to create heat friction. 

Just as my teeth started chattering, I heard a BANG sound, followed by colorful designs illustrated in the sky.

“Fireworks,” I commented, in delight. Smiling, I tilted my head to glance at Chase. “Why haven’t I seen these before?”

“Because, this is the first firework show of the season,” Chase replied. “It’s kind of a tradition we have here, to put on a show to brighten up the communities spirits after an earthquake. It’s put on by the locals, for the locals, so it’s rather infamous.”

“It’s wonderful,” I said, kissing his cheek. We watched in admiration, dazzled by the stunning chemical reactions. “So let me get this straight, you guys put on fireworks for earthquakes, but not for the fourth of July?” 

“You should know by now that Santa Monica isn’t exactly normal . . .”

Considering I had seen more drama, felt more pain, and experienced more surprises in my two months spent in Santa Monica than my 17 years spent in Connecticut, I couldn’t help but agree.

When the show was over, we scurried back to our spot on the beach. Still cold, Chase ran inside and gathered a bundle of blankets for us to share. He made us a little bed, and snuggled up beside me. I laid my head on his chest as we looked up at the stars.

“Hey Chase?”

“Yeah?” Chase replied, running his fingers through my hair.

“What’s going to happen to us when the summer is over?”

This question caused Chase to sit up and look at me. “I don’t know . . .”

“We’re running out of time,” I said, dropping my voice.

“I know. But I have no clue what’s going to happen . . .”

“Me either,” I muttered, the topic starting to worry me. “Do you want to stay together?”

“Of course I do,” Chase said, but his eyes narrowing. “But having a relationship with someone 3,000 miles away is difficult.”

I raised my eyebrows and said, “What if I stayed here? What if I moved in with you guys and went to school here!”

Hopefully, I anticipated his reaction. But his face only dropped further.

“As great as that would be . . . let’s face it, that wouldn’t blow over well. What about your friends, your family, your home in Connecticut. It’s too much to ask for you to stay here and leave all of that behind.” 

“But I want to stay with you,” I said, my voice shaking ever so slightly. “I’d give all of that up to be with you.” 

Chase took my face in his warm, calloused hands. “You say that now, but that’s something you'll later regret.”