Holding My Breath [Wattys 2016]

9 1 ~ R u s t y

                 

Present Day ~ July 23, 2011

I grin at Blue from across the restaurant as he drops a check book in his waiter's apron. Since the crash I've been trying to help out a lot since Bailey has a broken arm, and Colt is around to help, too. Sawyer got out of the hospital a couple days ago, after it was determined that his concussion wasn't too serious. They did have him stay overnight for observation, I heard from Bailey.

As a result of all of these injuries, I've been meeting up with Blue after he gets off work. More than we usually did. Bailey and I still paint during the day (with her left hand, which she hates) and I still play my guitar on the streets sometimes.

But now I haven't been hanging out with Sawyer as much. It's weird. I am actually starting to miss his sarcastic and flirty comments.

Blue smiles back, but I can tell something is bothering him. I wait for a minute or two in front of the door before he comes back out of the back, no longer in his work clothes. He falls into step with me and we head out into the dark.

Outside it is dusky, the streaks of the day slowly dropping behind the distant mountains. This town is sort of like the inside of a bowl, where there are walls on all of the sides that keep you inside.

"How was work?" I ask as we walk towards his house. I don't know how, but this has sort of become a routine, me passing the diner around closing time and us walking back to our places of living together.

He shrugs. "You know, work."

I shift my hat uncomfortably over my face. It's not even bright out anymore.

We cut through a short cut to his house, against the back of the neighborhood instead of going all the way around it. He showed me this little path about a week ago, after the crash. I glance up at Blue, and his face is hard, shielded. I get a bad feeling. He isn't looking at me the way he usually does, and my gut twists.

The moon is rising a little in the distance and it catches my eye for a moment. I squint at it, and I wonder why I get the feeling that I should be careful right now. Nature, what are you trying to tell me?

"Rusty, can I ask you something?" he stops. We are at the part of the path that is covered in darkness by the houses. I hesitate, but nod. He pauses too, and takes my hand, pulling me toward the trees.

"What are we doing?" I ask him, my heart starting to race. What's going on? When he doesn't respond, I repeat. "Blue?"

"I need to talk to you where nobody can hear us." He keeps walking into the city of trees. My eyes shoot around at all of the shadows, thinking of who might be lying in them. Caesar might be out there. He hasn't contacted me since the day of the crash, but I know he's there. He's always there.

Chills shoot up my spine and I pull my hand away from Blue's.

"What is it?" I stop to look back at where we came from, the lights of the lamp post outside just a ghost behind us. There is a soft summer breeze ruffling the leaves around us, and the sound reminds me of crunching paper. Distinct and destructive. I shouldn't be out here in the woods.

"Rusty--I don't know how--but you're not..." He can't get his thoughts straight. The way he looks at me now, not with that easy smile or even with the smirk that unnerves me sometimes. The way he looks at me with no expression. Nothing at all. Like I am nothing to him but a stranger.

"Blue, you're freaking me out. Just... start from the beginning or something, please." I step away from him, a churning ball of emotion turning between us. I don't know what's going on, but for some reason the things that are going through his mind seem to be like a bomb, ready to explode.