by Rachelle Shaw
I could feel the hard, warm concrete against the back of my head. It was probably messing up my hair, but I didn’t really care much. He dragged his fingertips up and down my arm as we lay back on the curb of my street. I stared straight up at the black sky, pin-pointed with tiny silver specks. I felt his fingers drag from my palm to my elbow. The stars were extra bright tonight; I vaguely wondered why. A shooting star flared by. Why was it that I only saw shooting stars with him?
It had been a hot summer day, but this late at night it was a comfortable eighty-something degrees. Again, I followed his simple movement from my elbow to my upturned palm. I wished on that shooting star. Please make this moment last forever. I wish this moment would last forever. An ache shot through my heart. Ridiculous. Time will never stand still. That realization made me love this silent conversation even more. Finally his fingers stopped and placed themselves perfectly between mine. I could feel the tears rise up my throat as shooting star number two died out.
Star, I thought hopelessly, I wish that he will love me. He turned his face towards mine. I could not look at him for fear that he would see the tears in my eyes.
He said softly to the top of my head, “You know that you can always come up to Washington. If you ever get lost, come up to Washington. I’ll be there.” He kissed my head softly. A million tiny butterflies exploded in my stomach and sent tingles down my arms. Suddenly I wished that I had not wasted my wishes on things that were not possible. I should have used my wishes on something that had a hope of coming true. Star number three came just then, giving me another chance for happiness.
I wish that he will never forget me. That is all I want from this perfect moment, that he will always remember me.
He rolled up onto his side and whispered into my ear, “I wish this could last forever.” For some reason this only made the ache in my heart sharper. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I could faintly smell the motorcycle grease that probably filled the cracks of his rough hands and intertwined itself into all of his clothes. He always smelt of motorcycles, no matter how clean he looked. His fingertip traced a line from my cheek to my lips. I opened my eyes and looked straight into his. His big, brown eyes always seemed to sparkle, even in the dark; perhaps it was just my imagination.
“You’ll have forgotten me by the time I get there,” I whispered back with a smirk on my face.
“I won’t ever forget you,” he said with a serious face. He leaned in to kiss me as my heart broke into a million pieces. I love you, I love you, I love you, was all I thought to myself as he leaned in closer. I knew I could never say it out loud. It meant more to me than it ever possibly would to him.
I was never exactly sure why my heart was always breaking in all the perfect moments we shared. I didn’t care. All that mattered to me was that I was in love with him. I leaned in to kiss him with all of my broken heart, but he was gone.
I opened my eyes to stare at a clear, black sky with only one or two dim stars. I remembered how his fingers had laced themselves between mine. I looked to my left, almost believing he’d be there. Just empty pavement, not even a trace of him.
I always knew he’d forget me. He never even said goodbye.
Rachelle Shaw is a young writer who is just beginning to share her stories. She lives and writes in Phoenix, Arizona.