Summer Sunsets

Summer Sunsets

by

Maria Rachel
Hooley

Summer Sunsets

©2011 Maria Rachel
Hooley

Cover Art by
IStockphotos.com & Yuri Arcurs

Smashwords
Edition

All rights reserved. No part
of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted
in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval
system, without the prior written permission of the
publisher.

Chapter One

It’s been almost two years
since I saw Skye Williams. Two years. Now, standing in my dorm room
for the last time, I look around. The walls are bare, with plenty
of nail holes to mark how many pictures I’ve tacked up—more than a
few of growing up with her. Just because she’s never been to the
University of North Carolina doesn’t mean she’s never been
here
…if you know what I
mean. There hasn’t been a day gone by I haven’t kept some part of
her with me.

I sit on the bed and stare
at an empty room just waiting for its next student, and part of me
is ready to give it up. It’s not that I haven’t enjoyed my five
years here, but I know where I belong and whom I belong with. I
guess the real test will be what happens now. I grab the last box
and head out.

I’ve just locked the door
when my cell rings. Propping the box against the wall, I check the
display: Skye. I smile and flip open the phone.

“
Hey, Stranger. You on the
road yet?”

“
No.”

Her voice is breathy and
panicked. The sound of it tenses my back and shoulders. I force
calm into my voice.

“
What’s wrong?”

“
It’s nothing,
Devin.”

I nod, aware that whatever
it might be, “nothing” isn’t it.

“
C’mon, Skye—I know you
better than that.” I press my face against my shoulder to cradle
the phone. “Just tell me.”

“
I…think there’s this guy
following me,” she whispers.

More tension threads the
muscles in my back, and I take a deep breath, knowing Skye could
have someone following her, but, more likely, she thinks she
does.

“
Calm down. Are you near a
public place?” I keep my voice even. The last thing she needs is me
reacting.

“
Yes.” Tears deepen her
voice. “The student union is just ahead.”

“
Okay, go inside and see if
he passes.” I get into the elevator and push the button for the
ground floor, waiting. This isn’t new for Skye, but that doesn’t
mean it makes it any easier when I get a call like this. Every few
seconds, I want to ask her what’s going on, but I have a feeling
she’s going to tell me she’s inside, safe. It’s the middle of the
day, and her university is probably a lot like mine—buzzing with
all the students heading home.

A few seconds later, the
elevator doors open, and I step out, heading to the parking lot. I
hear her softly breathing in the phone.

“
Are you inside
yet?”

“
Yes.”

“
Did he follow you?” I set
the box in the back of the truck and unlock the door.

“
No, he’s moving on.” Her
voice is faster with relief. “Thank God.”

I smile, also
relieved.

“
Are you packed and ready to
hit the road?” I start the engine.

“
Yeah, I’m going to get a
soda, and I’ll head out. Sorry for the false alarm.” She’s
breathing more slowly, which is a good thing.

“
Anytime, Skye. You know
that. I’ll see you at the usual spot.”

“’
Kay.”

I disconnect the call and
sit a moment, still holding the phone open. I stare at the
picture—one of me and Skye taken during her high school graduation.
She’s wearing a blue cap and gown that makes her look dark. I mean,
she
is
dark,
probably because of the Hispanic genes and all, but her smile is
kind of uncertain, like she hadn’t shaken off some of the baggage.
Then again, I think, leaning back against the seat, that made two
of us.

Sophomore year—that’s when
everything went south. Up until that point, Skye had been my best
friend since we were kids, and I had been in love with her. She
just didn’t know it. And when she tried to kill herself, I fell
apart. It’s been years, but certain wounds never heal. That’s just
the way things are.

This is going to be a long
road ahead to Colgate, Mississippi, the little town where Skye and
I have met up twice in college, the same one where Skye’s mom took
us on vacation years ago when Skye and I were kids. Without
realizing it, my hand drifts to the shell necklace Skye made for
me. I rarely take it off, not that I’d tell her that. Stuff like
that’s liable to freak her out because even though Skye knows how I
feel, I’m not sure she’s ready for anything that
serious.

Late afternoon sunlight
spills into my eyes, forcing me to turn the visor down to cut the
glare. I peer over at the passenger seat where the folder of
pictures I took down sits. One of them has slipped free, and I pick
it up once I’ve merged onto the highway. It’s a picture of Skye and
me on the trampoline. We’re sitting close, and she’s lifted one
hand to form bunny ears above my head. We’re probably twelve or
thirteen, back before things changed, and I’d give anything to be
back there, to be able to take Skye back to that time for both our
sakes.

C
hapter Two

The house is still as I
rush up the front steps and begin slamming my fist against the
door. “Skye, it’s Devin! Open up!”

I wait. Nothing. My heart
is ramming in my chest, and I don’t understand what’s happening.
Warren sounded desperate when he called. He said Skye was in
danger.

I pound on the door again.
“Skye, let me in!”

No answer.

Unable to take the
stillness, I throw the screen wide and grab the knob. The door’s
unlocked, thank God. I run inside, yelling.

“
Skye? Where are
you?”

I scan the downstairs and
find emptiness settled like dust. I have to find her.

“
Skye? Answer
me!”

Taking the stair two at a
time, I pass the bathroom and give it a half glance, at least until
I see the pill bottles strewn across the counter and pills
scattered all over the floor. That stops me, and I want to pretend
I’m not seeing what’s right in front of me—that it doesn’t mean
anything. But it does. God, it does.

“
Skye!” I yell, desperate
this time as I dart into the bathroom. Only one bottle has the lid
off, and that’s the one I take with me as I charge towards her
bedroom. The world seems to have slowed to half-time, and all I can
hear is my heart. It’s so loud, and it seems to take forever just
to get where I’m going. I nudge open the door.

Skye lies in bed, her face
turned away from me, one hand just above her head. She looks so
natural I want to believe she’s only sleeping.

“
Skye?” I prod, expecting
her to turn and answer, but she doesn’t. I edge towards the bed and
see make-up ruined by tears. Although a blanket covers her from the
chin down, it fails to conceal her still chest.

“
Skye!” I yell, thinking
that will jumpstart her heart. Oh, God.

I grab the cordless by her
bed and call 911. The operator answers, and I say things. I don’t
remember what. The voice tells me to start CPR. I go through the
motions.

She’s never going to wake
up.

I jerk upright in the bed,
feeling night pressing down on me so it’s hard to breathe. I’m
crying. Imagine—a six-foot-four guy crying like a baby. That’s me.
Skye’s name is on the tip of my tongue, and my body is bathed in
sweat. I calm myself by rocking back and forth, then head to the
window to peer out at the beach, watching the roll of the tide,
comforted by the sound of the water.

I look back at the bed.
There’s no point in returning to it, no matter that it’s the middle
of the night and I’m tired as hell. I rake my fingers through my
hair and try to relax. My heart is still racing when I pick up the
phone and dial Skye’s number. Two rings later, I hear her sleepy
voice.

“
Hello?”

“
Hey, you,” I whisper,
closing my eyes to focus on her voice. I pad back to the
bed.

“
Everything okay?” She asks,
and I can hear her shifting in bed.

“
It’s fine. I just wanted to
check on you after this afternoon, so don’t get up, okay?” I lean
forward, resting both my forearms on the flats of my thighs. Right
now, I don’t want to close my eyes for sleep, not until that dream
is a less powerful force. I used to have it every night after it
happened, but the years have blunted it some. When it hits, it puts
me back in high school again.

“
You sound weird,” she
whispers. “And it’s three in the morning.”

“
Yeah, I know. I shouldn’t
have called.” I know this, but I wanted to hear her voice. “What
time you think you’ll get here?”

“
That depends on how much
sleep I get,” she replies. “Maybe by 2.”

“
Good,” I say sit up
straighter. “I should let you get back to sleep.”

“’
Kay. ‘Night.”

“’
Night.” I hear her
disconnect the call, and for a moment, I just sit there, the phone
still pressed against my ear. I don’t know why. I guess I learned
early on that the small things sometimes hint at the bigger ones,
and any time I feel currents in the water, I sense a shift coming,
even if there isn’t one. Perhaps I’m not so different than Skye in
that regard; we just fear different things.

Setting the phone on the
nightstand, I grab my keys and head for the beach. The night air is
heavy with June, so the fact I’m only wearing jeans isn’t a
problem. It’s probably still 75 out. As I step out into the
oncoming tide, I look up and down the beach, realizing I’m the only
sleepless soul taking refuge in the surf. I let the warm water wash
over my feet and in the full moonlight start looking for shells.
It’s not that I collect them; Skye does. She has a thing about
them.

A flash of white catches my
eye and I bend to find one I know she’ll like. Yeah, it’s going to
take some cleaning, but that’s all right. I don’t mind. I wipe away
the grit and shove it into my jeans pocket before I start walking.
I’d forgotten how the sound of the ocean relaxes me, the way the
moon spills across the water, burning with night. It would all make
a great picture, but I’m no photographer.

I stop and stare at the
moon, recognizing this is the place I want to propose to Skye, but
part of me is terrified. It’s taken us years to get past what
happened in high school. Years. The last thing I want to do is hurt
her or remind her of something she can’t bear, but I can’t imagine
my life going on with her just in the periphery. I reach into my
other pocket and drag out the ring. Staring at the diamond and
white gold setting, I know it’s not nearly as much of a ring as I’d
wanted, but if I knew one thing about Skye, she liked the simple
things—no flash and dazzle would catch her heart. Besides, she
would know the ring was a symbol, that if she married me I would
love her forever.

As hard as it was to think
about, even if she didn’t say yes, I’d still love her forever. I’d
been doing it so long I don’t think I’d know any other way to
exist. I give the ring one last look before shoving it back into my
pocket and moving on. Ahead, I see a fishing pier jutting long and
forlorn into the caps, silhouetted against the moon, and it’s as
good a place as any just to sit.

I feel the grit of sand
stick to my wet feet as I trudge to the pier. There are a few
lights strung along its length, at least half of which are burned
out, a sign that while this place used to be a big tourist spot,
it’s lost its charm somewhere along the way, not that it matters.
Its charm resides in my memory, a time when things were simpler and
I didn’t understand the way life could come unraveled so
completely. There is a measure of safety in blindness, but you
can’t find happiness in safety, no matter how much you want to.
That’s my argument with Skye, I guess. She feels safe in hiding,
always has. I know she’s afraid of being hurt or of hurting someone
else. Maybe she thinks that’s all there is to love, but she’s
wrong. I just need a chance to prove it.