Free Heart on a Shoestring by Marilyn Grey

hands, then peered at me though strands of unwashed hair. “This scares me, Derek.”
    “What?”
    “This feeling I have when I look at you.”
    I sat down beside her. Took her hand and traced her palm. Truth is, I was nervous too. Worried that we’d go back home and forget this experience happened. She’d lose those flowers she picked and our first kiss would be the last. Two broken hearts are difficult to mold into one. Too many pieces to find first. She deserved someone better. Someone whole. Someone who could make her whole.
    I held her under the moon’s sheepish grin as peaceful waves glided to shore, rocking us both to sleep. I woke up every hour or so, counted stars, then fell back asleep. Repeated until the sun broke through the clouds and glistened on the waves and her eyelids. I kissed them. And she woke too.
    “I’m gonna take you to the hospital now,” I said. “Then, I’ll take you home. After that, we’ll pretend this never happened.”
    She kissed me. Soft and quick. Then, without a single word spoken between us, we took the boat back to my car, loaded it up, and drove to the nearest hospital. I didn’t tell her why I couldn’t go inside, but she didn’t mind. She braved it alone and texted me when she was done. I picked her up, helped her into the car, and drove back to Pennsylvania.
    As we passed through Maryland she started texting a mile a minute. 
    “Who’s that?” I said.
    “Heidi. Her little one is recovering well from surgery. Patrick and her set a date for their wedding. She said they’re going to have it at the skate park.”
    “That will be . . . different.”
    She smiled. “And what’s your ideal wedding?”
    “It’ll never happen.”
    “You don’t think you’ll ever get married?”
    “If I do, the last thing I’ll be worried about is where it is and what she wears.”
    We barely talked the rest of the drive. She slept on and off. I was amazed at how well she handled the pain. She refused the pain killers and took some extra arnica I had in my car. I doubt it helped much in her situation, but she seemed strong. Must’ve been the tomboy from days gone by. Her fracture wasn’t too bad, but still. It hurts. Course I had never broken a bone, at least not my own, so I guess I didn’t know for sure.
    We finally parked in front of her apartment building. Awkward silence. I didn’t know whether to get out or stay still. She pulled her old journal out of her bag and handed it to me. “I want you to have this.”
    I didn’t ask why or what I was supposed to do with it. Couldn’t even muster the words, “Thank you.” Wasn’t sure if I should’ve been thankful anyway. Why would she give me her journal?
    “You are one of the few people who truly knows me.” She kissed my cheek. “Let’s promise to never let a relationship ruin our friendship.”
    I didn’t respond. Not sure I wanted to promise such a thing. Obviously I wasn’t sure of much.
    I wanted to carry her up the steps, but she insisted she’d be okay with her hot pink cast and wooden crutches. So I watched as she limped away and turned to blow me a kiss just before slipping into the doorway.
    I missed her already. Almost felt unnatural to say goodbye to her and I didn’t know what to make of that feeling. A feeling I’d never felt before with a woman. Things were so different with Ashleigh. So much darker, lust-driven, and bitter. A memory I wished I didn’t have. I pulled into the streets of Philadelphia. One red light after another and I made my way to the highway that would take me back home. Two states away from my best friend.
    Without a doubt, that drive home was the longest drive of my life. 
    Loneliest too.

Ch. 13 | Miranda

    A few days after my trip with Derek, I settled down for bed when a text from a strange number appeared on my phone. Didn’t recognize the area code. A simple, Hey, Miranda. Is it still your number? I asked who it was and quickly received his response. I couldn’t believe