The Beautiful Truth

// 98

As they often do, the storm came out of nowhere. My dad was out at the grocery store when the sirens started wailing. Hearing them, I snapped my laptop closed and carried it, along with my phone down into our basement. I glanced out of the kitchen window as I passed. A scene not uncommon to Oklahoma in the summer, it looked like the beginning of the Wizard of Oz.

I shut myself in the basement and tried calling my dad, just as lightning cracked somewhere very close by. Of course there was no answer.

I sighed uneasily. I should be used to this. I'd grown up in Tornado Alley. This happened at least twice between March and October...usually much more often than that. And although years of drills had taught me what to do, it was always scarier when I was home alone.

I was certain my dad was safe in the back of whatever grocery store he'd gone to—that had happened to us a few times when I was younger. So, I found the flashlight under the basement bathroom sink, and then laid down on the couch with my laptop on my stomach. Back to catching up on The Palisades.

"Sawyer?" he called down the stairs.

Surprised...and also ashamed at my viewing choice during the storm, I shot up on the couch and shut my computer again. "Talyn?"

He clamored down the stairs. "Oh good, you're here."

I almost laughed. "Where else would I be?"

"Where's your dad?" he asked, still frantic.

I frowned. "He went to the store, Talyn. He'll be OK! What's wrong?"

"One touched down out by the airport," he explained. "It's huge. We heard it on the radio."

The house suddenly fell silent. Gone was the white noise of electrical hum. The fusebox jumped in the corner.

"And there goes the transformer," Talyn cringed.

"That happens every time."

Talyn came around the couch and moved my legs so he could sit with me. "I was worried about you. Y'all's car was gone, and I know you don't like waiting these things out alone, so I came to check on you."

For the first time I noticed the rain in his hair and on his shoulders. It was getting darker in the basement—the sky was nearly black, and the lone window high above the washer and dryer wasn't giving us much light. Talyn reached over me for the Mag Lite I'd put between the arm of the couch and the cushion.

In doing so, I leaned back slightly to give him some room, but he still ended up centimeters from my lips. We met eyes, and it was apparent that he hadn't done this intentionally. He almost looked embarrassed for a second, but instead of jumping backwards, his eyes searched my face.

I could barely breathe. All I could think of was the last time he'd kissed me; remembering it made my stomach feel like I'd just dropped off the pinnacle of a rollercoaster. I had never felt so much electricity between us. Maybe it had always been there, but I'd never known to notice.

"Sawyer..." he whispered, leaning in. I could feel his arms flexing.

I didn't stop him. We were sober. If I didn't want him to do it, I should have. His lips pressed gently against mine, parting them slightly as his tongue softly met mine. And then it was deeper, and more intense, and I was having trouble breathing.

The storm outside was dumping biblical amounts of rain on Pontiac, but I could've sworn I could hear my heart beating.

Talyn pulled away, and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. "Wow."

My eyes fluttered open. "Talyn..."

"Tell me you didn't feel that, SF, and I'll never do it again."

I stared at his evergreen eyes. "Oh. You know I did."

He blinked. "You did?"

It seemed a genuine surprise to him.

I frowned. "The feelings..." I began, and then hesitated, looking away. "My feelings for you...they've never been the issue. I told you," I wrinkled my forehead in disbelief. "I love you."

"But..." he pushed.

I sighed, looking away again as lightning illuminated the basement floor and thunder crashed outside. "But I can't do this right now."

Talyn didn't respond until I looked back at him. "Why?"

"Talyn, you know why!" My heart swelled with agonizing conflicting emotions.

"From what I understand, you're single now."

I narrowed my eyes at him, then looked away. I was either about to scream, or cry, I couldn't decide at the moment. "I'm not ready for this yet," I told him quietly. "And even if I was...what's gonna happen if—"

Talyn interrupted me with a loud sigh. "Man, you have the worst memory. Did I not tell you the day I got back that there's nothing you can do to make me stop loving you?"

I searched his eyes, although I wasn't sure what I was looking for. "But h—"

"Sawyer," he interrupted, picking up my hands. "I've been in love with you since I was nine years old. Whether you love me—or you're in love with me, or not in love with me? Whether I only get to feel you in love with me for five minutes, or five years, or for the rest of my life...or never...? I'm gonna keep right on loving you one way or another until the day I die."

There had to be a vise around my heart. It was hurting. I wanted so badly to feel the same. And maybe I did, but... "I'm not ready for this," I whimpered again.

"I—" Talyn started and then stopped, then shrugged. "So what am I supposed to do? Wait for you?"

I sighed. "I can't ask you to do that."

More lightning and thunder.

"Oh, but I wish you would."

My heart was breaking. "Just kiss me until the storm is over."

Rain fell in sheets, but the sirens had stopped. We didn't have power, but we were out of danger, it seemed.

Talyn kissed me, his hands searching my body, mine searching his. We were lost in each other. But, when the rain stopped, and we went outside to survey the scene, I couldn't help but notice that the sky, just before it cleared up for a Technicolor sunset, was the exact color of Barton Black's eyes.