MID-JUNE
There were moments that my camera couldn't do justice. The California sun setting in front me was one of those.
Vibrant purples and pinks splashed across the sky, the spinning spiral of the ferris wheel standing tall on the Magnolia pier piercing the rosy backdrop. The ocean rushed, crashing against dark sand and my bare feet. Squeezing my toes, they dug into the cooling sand, seeking refuge from the chilly water. It was the middle of June and the ocean couldn't be any colder.
"Fuck, it's cold," Khalid hissed beside me, jumping away from the water.
"Crybaby." I turned to him, the heavy baby strapped around my neck swinging with me. I'd found the ancient film camera at the local antique market last year, perched in between racks of once-worn dresses. When my eyes fell upon it, my heart wouldn't stop racing, steadily increasing even when I grasped it gently like a mother holding her newborn for the first time. An easy bargain for both the camera and a couple rolls of film, Baby became a part of me like nothing else, latching onto my hands and neck everyday since.
"Fuck off." He grinned, gaze trained on the never-ending ocean before us. Even in the limited sunlight, the sharp contours of his profile stood against the vivid sky and bustling pier. His golden undertones of his brown skin took whatever light it could and highlighted his face.
More than enough for a dark and eerie photo, I thought as I captured the image of Khalid. If I had a light box with me, it would've turned out brighter no doubt. But less is more.
He shifted at Baby's closing shutter, his lips still curved as he stretched his hand out, palm up.
I stepped back, shaking my head. "I'm the photographer, not the muse."
"Muse, huh?" He inched forward, forcing me back again, and again as he closed in on me. "So you finally admit that I'm beautiful?"
I snorted. "All I see is five year-old Khalid running around covered in strawberry jam when I look at you."
He halted his approach, laughing. I snapped another shot, my lips tugging into a smile. "That was definitely worth the whooping Ma gave me."
"With the wooden spoon," I added, letting Baby dangle freely again, and turned back to the darkening ocean. "Do you ever think about how it'd feel to just float?"
"Float?" he echoed, his voice closer than before.
"Mm-hmm. Imagine how far you could get if you just floated across the Pacific."
"Sharks exist, Dia. You'll be chewed up and swallowed before you reach Hawaii."
"I can always count on you to bring me to reality, KD."
"And I can always count on you to help me forget reality." He sighed, the heaviness that I'd felt when he showed up at my mom's bungalow and seen in his eyes as we drove to the beach filling in the silent space. "Fuck, this sucks."
I shifted closer to him, resting my palms on his shoulder, the side of my face following soon after. If my haloed curls bothered his skin, he didn't mention it.
"No one tells you about the sacrifices you have to make to reach your dreams," he said, draping his arm around my shoulders, his thumb rubbing at the bare skin. "No one tells you how much it fucking hurts to have your heart broken. And now I have to leave everything that I know, my family, my friends, you." He shook his head. "It just fucking sucks."
I lifted my head, resting my chin on my knuckles. "You're not leaving us behind, Khalid." At the sound of my voice near his ear, he gazed down at me. "Sure, you'll be on the other side of the country playing football for your dream school, but we'll always be with you. Even if it isn't physically, we're a part of you." His warm breath fanned my skin, ticking the bridge of my nose, and I squinted. "No matter how much you might hate it."
