The Rebound

It began at the beach, that’s how I knew I was dreaming. I hadn’t seen the ocean in months, and had no explanation for my being there. It was sunny and the water was free of swimmers or surfers. Not a single floaty in sight.

I relaxed and let out a breath, feeling the wind sweep away my exhalation into the sky. I rested my elbows on my bare legs, feeling the warmth of the sun somehow penetrating the cold of the breeze and roasted my skin evenly.

My hair whipped around my face. I knew it would be a mess once I was indoors. But I let the wind take it in any direction it pleased, because there was a certain peace in the chaos of it.

“Pretty, huh?”

The words caught me by surprise, but I knew it had to be a dream again. William was sitting right beside me, also barefoot and in shorts. His massive, tan body made him look so natural beside me, like he was a part of my environment. My stomach tightened and I straightened my posture to sigh at the ocean, a great distraction to the situation, as I had much to explain for myself. We hadn't spoken in years.

“It’s nice,” I admitted.

I kept my gaze on the forming waves, somehow managing to be more interested in the seaweed curling into knots than the obvious.

William leaned back on his hands, fingers sinking into the sand. The movement made it impossible to pretend to be focused on the scenery anymore. Instead I caught myself glancing at his long fingers disappearing into the ground grain by grain.

“How long has it been since we’ve been to the beach?” he asked.

I smiled.

“I don’t think we’ve ever been to the beach together,” I said. And that was a shame. In all of our “relationships” it had always been so official. We’d never played in the water, never flirted and splashed like kids, even when we were kids.

I’d had no license. He’d had no business driving. We usually just jumped to confessing our love and rolling with the drama that followed.

Even going to visit me was almost out of the question. It was twenty miles away and he had been a bag boy. I was still a lonely girl working in a bookstore. That was evident in the reminders this dream was giving me. How many times had I done him wrong? How many times had I stomped on his heart without even a decent explanation?

William had been nothing but kind, if a little masochistic for coming back for seconds.

Why did I always break up with him?

There was the issue with my mother. He’d never had a female role model in his life. His mom treated him like shit, dropping him off with nothing but a pathetic excuse for girl advice. “Don’t get her pregnant.”

My mother took him in like her own son.

Making him my brother.

Creepy.

But that wasn’t what did it in. No, it couldn’t have been that. It had been too much to handle. He would spend every moment trying as hard as he could to come over. And when he did he would fall asleep on my couch. It wasn’t his fault he had to work the way he did.

Or maybe it was our awkward goodbyes. A peck on the lips was fine and good. Maybe it was what he was comfortable with. Or what he thought I was comfortable with. The butterflies in my stomach usually had their way with me, making me freeze, stuff my hands in my pocket and blush.

But I was only about nineteen.

That might sound old to anyone else, but I’d always never been good with intimacy. He’d been the only one I could get physically close to without cringing away. In fact, he was the perfect person to curl into, huge and warm. There was something nostalgic in the way he could envelope around me in a hug so tight I had no choice but to snuggle my face against his shoulder, unable to see anything but the color of his shirt.

He made me feel small and protected. Dainty and pretty.

Maybe I broke up with him because he had a terrible tendency of pointing out things a man shouldn’t point out.

“Hi Jackie! Hey, you have zit.”

Thanks, Will.

He didn’t mean anything by it. And it certianly wasn't anything that would bring on a break up. By blurting it with a smile I could tell he didn’t care if I did have a zit. It was as admirable as it was annoying.

He was playful like a puppy, even when I was arrogant and selfish as a cat. When I couldn’t take him anymore I would lash out, instead of telling him when he was starting to wear on my nerves. I would punch low blows, telling him that I’d wanted to take our relationship to the next level and sleep with him, but now I never wanted to see him again because he never made a move.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked in the sand. I realized that I had dropped my gaze to my knees, contemplating the man I was might be reluctantly in love with.

“Nothing,” I finally answered turning to face him completely. “Just… Nothing.”

He nodded once in understanding, turning his gaze to the afternoon sky. Guilt settled in, tracing the old scars on my heart. I swallowed the swell on emotion, accepting the dull, constant pain like a bruise.

The glaring sun became brighter and brighter until there was nothing to see.

Awaking to a dark room in a queen sized bed all alone.