Between Two Eternities || Travis Hamonic

(25) One Hell of An Amen

"There is never a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment."

-Sarah Dessen, The Truth About Forever

The sneaking around had become like second nature. I would never have done something like this before.

The old Arden would never say she was going to the library to study but actually wait at the corner for Travis's super nice car to pull up. The old Arden would never ...

The old Arden was a memory. A painful one.

I had been missing out. Who knew that holding hands with a boy felt this good?

I shouldn't be acting so surprised because I had it with Bobby. I just didn't think I would ever feel like that again, feel even better.

My stomach always drops, my cheeks always feel hot, and my knees even shake. I often can't even think about anything except Travis.

Everything is so blissful.

Even as Matt jumps around after the Islanders score a goal, and I can see Travis either celebrating on the ice or on the bench ... I don't tell Matt about us. But it doesn't mess me up like it used to.

I knew it was getting serious when Travis would drop me and Matt at home, and then come back ten minutes later to pick me up again.

It's the fourth day in a row with this system. He waits at the stop sign at the corner (at my insistence) and when everything's clear I walk down, usually run; it's freezing outside. I tug on the zipper of my coat, but my feet get tangled together resulting in my face hitting the pavement. I never was good at multitasking.

I hear Travis coming toward me and calling my name into the darkness. I can only see his silhouette until he's close enough to crouch down beside me.

"What happened to you?" he asks, chuckling slightly.

"I fell." I brush off my scraped hands and pull my knees up so that my feet aren't in the street. "On my face."

He squints and surveys the damage, fingers light on my skin. He gets to a part of my forehead and it makes me wince. "Sorry, sorry," he mumbles. "Looks like it's gonna be a bruise."

I sigh and brush off my hands once again. "That's okay. I don't mind bruises."

"Me neither," he says. I shake my head and we both stand up and make our way to his car at the end of the street.

"Does that mean you'll still look at me? You won't cringe away from this busted up face?" I joke.

He laughs and starts driving. "I've seen worse."

Tonight we decided on coffee. Decafe of course because it's getting pretty late.

I sip on my drink, watching the ceiling fans spin in their slow, circuitous way.

"Have you thought about Wyoming?" Travis asks. He's been looking at me since we've sat down, hasn't even taken a sip of his drink.

I have thought about Wyoming - it's been the only thing on my mind since it even became a possibility. The more I think about it, the more I think it won't be so bad. Maybe I can get past this grieving part of my life and just move on.

I nod and swallow, hot liquid going down my throat and resonating in my stomach.

"I think I might do it." There's a short lived silence as he stares at me, with his eyes. They aren't glowing right now. My stomach turns and not in the good way it usually does at the effect of Travis.