Black & White [Jeremiah Fisher]

twenty-two

little spice, but not too much spice

Rowan

"Throw this on." Jeremiah accidentally chucks his sweatshirt at my head as I pull his sweatpants over my legs. I dramatically fall back onto the bed, giggling from my over-tiredness.

"Oh my god, woman." He laughs, watching me sit back up to finish getting dressed in his clothes. Yes, I'm wearing Jeremiah's sweatpants and sweatshirt and I could not be happier.

His scent consumes me as I pull the sweatshirt over my head. Immediate comfort and warmth fall over my body, making me even more relaxed than I was before.

We both decided to take a walk on the beach so I could explain my past. I'm not sure what came over the both of us, but after the idea popped into my head, Jeremiah was instantly down.

I told him I would have to sneak into my room by Elena to grab warmer clothes, but Jeremiah stopped me, insisting that I wear his.

I didn't oblige.

As I stand up to look at myself in his mirror, he stops me, slinging his arm around my waist and pulling me into him so my back is pressed against his torso.

A laugh escapes my lips as he twirls me around and starts to walk us towards the bedroom door and away from the mirror. I was about to fight back, but it was as if Jeremiah read my mind.

"You look absolutely stunning, no need to look in the mirror."

Thank gosh he is holding me, or else I think my knees would have given out.

We both quickly and quietly sneak out of the house and race each other down to the beach. The amount of sand in my sneakers does not bother me because I can't stop laughing and smiling as we both keep running into each other as a joke.

I never pictured myself this happy right before opening up more to Jeremiah. I guess something shifted inside my mind, a good switch, not the bad one that has consumed me whole with bitter and sorrowful emotions. This good switch has dispersed those dreadful feelings and replaced them with joyfulness and acceptance.

I'm finally accepting my past, and ready to embrace the future. I've been dwelling in misery, something that has been holding me back from moving on, and truly feeling euphoric.

There's no way I can give full credit to myself for being ready to move on. Everyone this summer has helped in some way, but Jeremiah has helped the most. I don't think he knows how much he has helped me, so I need to show him.

But first, I need to be vulnerable and honest, with not only him but myself.

We both slowed down once we reached the ocean. Even though it is the middle of July, there is a cool breeze that keeps swirling strands of hair all around my face. Surprisingly, this is the calmest I've seen the beach at night since I've gotten here. The waves crashing onto the shore are still thunderous, but not too deafening. A sense of calm rushes over me, wishing I could capture this moment in a jar and listen to it forever.

Without hesitation, I slip my fingers through Jeremiah's. I've never taken a second to fully realize that our hands fit perfectly together. My hand has never felt so right with another boy's hand. As stupid and as cheesy as it sounds, it's as if they were made for each other.

I'm not complaining, I could hold his hand forever.

The moonlight is bright enough for me to still point out all of Jeremiah's beautiful features. If there was a test on his features, I know I would pass with flying colors.