Free Out of Reach by Missy Johnson Page A

side of his mouth rose higher than the right when he smiled. And had that dimple always been there? Because I hadn’t noticed how cute it made him look when he laughed. I looked back out at the water.
    “I don’t know, Em. I think there is something else after all this. I think that we come back and get to start over, and spend our lives looking for that one special person again.”
    “You think there is only one person for each of us?” I asked softly. The thought made me sad. If that were true, then I’d never know love again. I’d never experience that rush of excitement of new love.
    Anger bubbled inside of me. Who cared whether or not it was true? I didn’t want anyone else. I wanted Andy.
    Seth shrugged. “I don’t know. But I think we know when something is right. And that’s what we look for. The feeling that nobody else in the world can compare. That without this person, your life is worthless, it has no point. I think you can have that more than once in a lifetime.”
    I nodded numbly. I didn’t believe in anything. I’d lost too many people I loved for me to believe that everything happens for a reason. I snuggled closer into Seth’s shoulder as I thought about life and living, dying and death. Maybe I was destined to be alone. Losing the people I loved was too painful. Maybe it was easier to shut myself off than to risk going through this all again.
    My fingers traced the cover of my notebook, the leather soft and luxurious against my touch. I glanced down and stared at the three words embroidered onto the front. Hope. Love. Happiness. I’d thought it was a sign when I saw it in the window of the gift shop. Who knows? Maybe it had been.
    Seth glanced at me. “What do you write in that?” he asked. “I never see you without it these days.”
    I handed it to him. His eyes widened as he took it, staring at it for a moment before flipping it open.
    “It was Andy’s idea,” I explained. “That I write down one happy memory each day, so that when . . . after . . . I’ll have all these amazing memories to look back on.” I peered over his shoulder to see which one he was reading: the night I passed my final exams. I smiled at the thought.
    He chuckled. “I’d forgotten about that night. I think that was the only time I really ever saw you drunk. As in, so drunk you could barely function.”
    “That’s because you and Andy kept refilling my glass. I thought I was on my first wine, when in reality I’d had about ten,” I exclaimed. “My memory of that night is surprisingly pretty clear.” I giggled.
    “So you recall the prank calls then?” He laughed.
    I cringed and groaned. Unfortunately I did. He and Andy had gotten me so drunk and then dared me to prank my professor. Which of course I had—ten times—pretending I was in love with him. The worst part was the professor was actually married, and a really nice guy. Or so I’d thought.
    “That was your fault,” I grumbled, my face heating up at the thought. “You knew I wouldn’t be able to turn down a bet.”
    “I was pretty impressed you were able to pull it off. You actually got him to agree to meet you for sex.”
    “Don’t remind me,” I cried, laughing. Not that I would have ever gone through with it, but it did make retrieving my graded assignments off him the next week extremely awkward.
    “ That is why I don’t drink. Because I’m too easily influenced by you and Andy.”
    “Bullshit. You’re too competitive, is more like it,” he teased, nudging me.
    I glowered at him, knowing he was right.
    “And then Andy ordered fifty pizzas with extra sausage to be delivered to Professor Walton because he gave him less than a perfect score.”
    “Oh God, the look on his face when he opened the door,” I cried, tears streaming down my face. “And I still can’t believe you guys made me hide in the bushes outside his house.”
    “But it was worth it.” Seth chuckled. “I’d never heard him use so many cuss words