20 - Make a Wish

20

Make a Wish

Isaiah

A urora and I have never been on a real date.

I've never been on a date in general. No one had a chance at capturing my attention like she had. So, there was no point in even trying. Tonight is a first of many in more ways than one. For me, at least. I know she's dated other people, so I'm determined to blow this one out of the water.

Make her forget that other people are even an option.

I show up at her apartment and knock instead of using my key this time. Though that key is never far; I know exactly where it is in my wallet—tucked right next to a picture of the two of us from a carnival when we were young.

Aurora opens the door, and I can breathe freely again.

Her curls are loose and wild around her face, her cheeks are slightly flushed, and her freckles are poignant after so much time in the summer sun. "Hi, come in. I'm almost ready."

I step in, unable to pull my eyes away. A black patterned skirt hugs her hips and her butt, accentuating the curvature of her body before falling loosely over her legs. A long slit is cut up the left side, showing off the skin of her leg and the black brace that takes absolutely nothing away from her beauty. She wears a simple, high-neck top, but when she turns around, the strappy back reveals itself, baring much of her skin.

It's as if the world stops turning when I look at her.

My heart rate slows, yet my blood rushes. A paradoxical feeling that somehow completely makes sense when she's the reason.

Every inch of her calls out to me. Skin begging to be touched, lips that I want badly to kiss. Hips that my hands want to call home. And so much more. I want her trust, her thoughts, her new dreams, and her fears.

She stops at the counter, turning to face me again. I lean down and kiss her on the cheek, enjoying the blush that rushes to them. "For you." I hand her the tiny bouquet of blue flowers, one of her favorite colors, and the bag of mini Kit-Kats.

"You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to."

Aurora smiles. "So did I." She turns and hands me a bag of Twix.

"Thank you."

"Mhm. Let me grab my shoes, and we can go." Before she does, her eyes slowly track over me from head to toe. She swallows, heat creeping up her neck. I say nothing. Instead, I take it all in. That she's looking at me like that with desire blooming in her eyes. Aurora clears her throat and quickly scurries away, making me chuckle.

"No need to run away."

"Shut up, Isaiah," she calls from down the hall. When she returns, she has black and white sneakers in her hand and a sweater. She sits down to put her shoes on, but I reach for them.

"Here, let me help."

"Why?"

"Because I want to."

"Isaiah—" she argues, but I stop her.

"I know it's annoying to bend with the brace. I know you're in PT, but just let me help." I meet her eyes, and after a brief hesitation, she nods, letting go of her grip on the shoes. I chuckle when I see her socks, printed with some Disney character, and she kicks my chest gently with her foot.

I slip on the right shoe easily, my fingertips grazing over her skin, goosebumps following in their wake. When I move to the left, I'm careful not to jostle her knee too much, far aware that I'm probably being gentler than she or her physical therapist is. If I know anything, I know she's pushing herself as hard as she can.

My hand wraps around her leg, and my fingers find the space where the brace disappears and brush the back of her knee. With my other hand, I carefully slip on her shoe. The skin under my fingers is soft and warm, smooth and supple. I want to find out if the rest of her skin feels like that, though I'd bet my life it does.

I pull myself away and stand, holding out my hands. The hazel eyes that look up at me are wide as she places her hands in mine. With a gentle hold, I pull her to her feet.

"Ready to go?"

Aurora nods, her lips parted. I smile as we head out, never taking my hand off the small of her back on the way to the car. There's a welcome chill in the air and the nostalgic feeling of fall present.

"Where are we headed?"

I look over at her at the stoplight. "You'll see."

Aurora rolls her eyes, making my blood rush, and leans back in the passenger seat. "Tell me."

"No. Ask again and it'll be a waste of a question."

"Evil." She rolls her lips.

"Smart."

Aurora lets out a soft laugh, barely a twinkle, but it warms the space anyway. The city lights are shining through the early night sky, cars passing and people walking on the sidewalks. I drive until we reach the signs of the festival. It's small, but there are a few rides, the largest being a Ferris wheel and plenty of games. Reminiscent of our teenage years.

Pure bliss spreads over her face. The smell of popcorn and funnel cakes creep in through the open windows and the sounds of laughter from the crowds with them. I only found this place through a flyer at work, but I'm grateful I did.

In moments, we're climbing out of the car. Aurora wastes no time in threading her arm through mine, setting the pace. Since she has me to lean on, she only has to use one crutch.

"What's first, superstar?" I ask. On my arm, her fingers dance over my skin, tracing the ink that created the artwork. Her smile makes the world go round—at the very least, mine.

"Water guns?"

"You're on."

"Or do you want to hit the basketball game first? You know," she says, her eyes narrowing playfully, "to warm up."

Without hesitation, I pinch her waist, a squeal escaping her lips. With a steady grip, I pull her into my side. It's easy; it's playful. It's how I always imagined. "Watch that attitude. Wouldn't wanna talk a big game and then lose again, would you?" I say, my lips almost brushing her skin.

She loosely attempts to pull away from me, but when she sinks into my side, I know it was all a facade. We find the water guns, and I eye the array of stuffed animals as a prize option. I'm thrilled to see a tri-colored octopus as one of them.

We take our places, a serious look on Aurora's face, and wait for the buzzer. Her aim is good, but she slips just so, and I take the lead, the water never for a second leaving the target. The bell rings, my light blinking as the winner, and I sit back, enjoying the youthful frustration on Aurora's face. The unenthusiastic booth attendant tells me to select a prize, and I point to the octopus.

Aurora cuddles it instantly, pulling it into her chest. "Losing isn't so bad when I get something in return." I throw my head back, laughing, my heart pumping at the sight of her smile. "Thank you."

She threads her arm through mine again, finding her balance as we approach the hoop.

"Go on."

I raise a brow. "What's in this one for you?"

"Just want to stare at you."

Blood rushes, and I pocket my hands. "What do I win?"

"Depends on the score."

"You drive a hard bargain."

Aurora's eyes track over me in a slow heat, and she shrugs. I take the ball and wait for the game to start. When it does, with her watching me, I hit basket after basket, missing only a few when the basket adjusts. But when the score is in the mid-seventies, I feel pretty good.

"How's that?"

"Good enough."

I step forward, forcing her to tilt her head back to look up at me. "What's my prize?"

"I'll let you know when I figure it out," she says, her lips curling.

"You little—" I wrap my arms around her waist, lifting her from the ground, crutch included.

"Isaiah, put me down!" Ignoring her, I start walking towards the food and picnic tables. Not a care in the world. "Isaiah, people are staring."

I smile as we pass the amused faces of younger kids and young adults alike. Some older couples chuckle themselves as if pining over a memory.

"No can do."

"Ice cream or popcorn?"

Aurora huffs, her arms no longer flailing, instead going limp. "Ice cream."

I pat the back of her thigh. She's not quite over my shoulder, but her butt rests on my arms, and I think she's given up at holding herself straight.

"Was this just an excuse to put your hands on me?"

"You'll never really know."

I slide her down, keeping her skirt in place, until her feet are touching the ground, but my arms stay where they are. Reaching up, I brush an eyelash from her cheek, enjoying the way her eyes flutter closed.

"Make a wish." I hold my thumb up for her.

Aurora blushes. Her hands brush over the fabric of my shirt, though they may as well be on my skin. "I don't need to."

"Make one anyway."

The warmth of her breath on my thumb sends a chill down my back. We step into line for the ice cream, and she keeps her arm wrapped around me, her hand under the soft fabric of my shirt resting directly on my skin. Every time Aurora gently brushes the skin of my back, my heartbeat skips a step.

"Can I use one of my questions?" Aurora looks up at me.

"By all means."

She worries her lip with her teeth. "You haven't said much about your mom since you've been back, since we've been doing…whatever. How is she?"

My hand is still where it rests on her waist. "Mom is okay. It was rough for a while. We didn't talk a lot after I left. And I get it now; she was mad because I went away without much of a word. And I was mad because she didn't understand why I needed space. She didn't even want me to pursue writing anymore. Told me it was a waste. So, I was mad at Elijah, and then, I was mad at her. All these expectations and dreams she had for Elijah became my burden. I had to be perfect. And I was the furthest thing from that." I squeeze her twice, reminding myself Aurora is still next to me.

"Isaiah, I'm sorry."

We step up in line. I squeeze her side. "It's okay. Now, at least. Most of college was spent fighting or just not speaking. When the depression hit, I couldn't talk to her at all. I didn't want to. I doubt she wanted to talk to me. But everything…it just changed our relationship. She's my mom; I love her. She's done everything for me—but there was a time I didn't feel very loved in return."

Aurora doesn't say anything, instead placing a soft kiss on my bicep and resting her head there. Her hand leaves my back but finds my own, intertwining our fingers between our bodies.

"I know it doesn't fix any of the hurt, but I hope you know that the person you are, the person you were, was—is—always worthy of love. You were always just supposed to be you. And I think you're pretty great."

The ache in my chest alleviates some. Aurora never expected me to be anyone but who I was.

I continue, "We're better now. We talk more often, and we don't fight. But we also don't talk about Elijah." There's a sadness in that. The only person that understands what it was like is the one person I can't talk to about it.

"You can talk to me about it. I know it's not the same, but I imagine there are times when you need to, and I hope you know you can come to me." Aurora's voice is firm.

"Thank you, Ro." Leaning over, I press my lips to her temple, leaving them there longer than is expected. Every time, it gets harder and harder to pull myself away. "What flavor are you getting? Chocolate or the peanut butter swirl?"

Aurora hums, the sound vibrating against my body from where her head rests. "Peanut butter swirl. And you? Coffee chip?"

"Yup." I smile at the ease in which the memories come back, the details that haven't changed. I order for us when we step up and hand over my card. We're handed two cones—a waffle for her and a cake for me, overflowing with ice cream. I lead us and the octopus to a table as she murmurs a thank you.

"Did you give it a name yet?"

Aurora glances at the octopus sitting on the table next to us. Its colors are a deep red, pale yellow, and purple. "I'll have to think about it."

When she looks up at me, she crosses her eyes playfully, tongue reaching out to taste the ice cream. I watch her without constraint. Aurora is here on a date with me. I take the time to memorize the new details of her face. New freckles that weren't there before, how her laugh lines have deepened. I take the time to appreciate the things that haven't changed. The shape of her lips and the slope of her nose.

"My turn for a question."

She waves her hand. "Have at it."

I could've gone for an easier question, one that wasn't so heavy on our first date, but when I open my mouth, the words that come out are, "Did you ever stop loving me?"

Hazel eyes that I love widen. Ice cream drips down the cone. I see her pulse speed up in the hollow of her neck, and her cheeks flush.

"Isaiah…" Her voice is breathy.

I exhale. "I know. But I have to know, Aurora. Because I never did. Not for a second."

Aurora never takes her eyes off mine. It's a heady stare down, a tightrope drawn between us, and we're both dancing on it. A room deciding whether to burn or not, the flames flickering at the window but not yet breaking through.

"No, I never did. I loved you when you left. I was…in love with you when you left. And as hard as I may have tried to drown it, suffocate it, make it stop hurting so much, I never stopped loving you. Not for a day, not for an hour, not for a minute."

Her vulnerability is a gift, and it's not one I'll ever take for granted again.

"Do you think you could fall in love with me again?" My heart pumps. Scared and exhilarated for the answer. I think I know it. I see it when she looks at me with adoration and desire, and I feel it when she touches me.

"This is some first date," she jokes, taking another lick of her dwindling ice cream.

"I guess I thought I'd stop beating around the bush."

Around us, the buzzer and bells of the games go on. The stars are out somewhere above us, hidden by the lights of the city. Even still, she's the only thing that has my full attention.

"Yeah, Isaiah, I think I could." Aurora speaks softly, barely audible, but I hear every word. It's the last drop of hope I need, the final coin in the bank.

I'm unable to help the smile that forms on my face and unable to stop myself from leaning forward, placing my lips beside her mouth. I taste the drop of peanut butter ice cream that landed right above her lips and her skin, and it all breathes me back to life. My lips linger for a moment, wanting badly to truly kiss her, but I leave that to her, and I pull back.

Her cheeks are beet red when I do, but her hazel eyes are shining.

Looking at her is like seeing the sun for the first time after years spent in the dark. Aurora is the light at the end of the tunnel, the midday sun after endless rain. Life was so bland without her. A white, blank page with no color. She was my muse, even when life was bleak. In the dark, in the depths of a depression I barely got out of. Aurora was on every page. In every thought, in every beat of my heart, she has been there. And she has never left.

I have loved her every day for as long as I can remember.

I will love her everyday as long as she lets me.