Page 121 of The Other Side

Or the seasons changing.

My lips tuck as I recall our rendezvous in his bedroom. The pads of our fingers nudge each other, our digits skating up and down after. His skin is coarse against mine. Rougher and manlier than the boy I once knew.

Like I could stick my heart to it, and it wouldn’t slip away.

His stubbled lips land against my ear when the first chorus kicks in. He murmurs Brad’s lines, and a smile buds on my face. I pull back to peer at him, my chin angling up before softly singing Carrie’s lines.

Remind me.

His brows dip, his head whipping with the intensity of Brad’s next lines. He mouths the words, releasing my hand to drag my bottom lip down with his thumb.

I inhale as we merge closer, and we stare through each other. I respond with Carrie’s words, the string lights framing Brant just like they did that Christmas Eve.

Like the angel I always had.

He never left.

Remind me.

I plant a palm on his chest, fingers curling into his flannel before he cradles the back of my head. My cheek parks on his brick chest, and I’m reminded that there’s no safer place to land than right here.

Our bodies sway just as Carrie’s voice rings through the next verse. All my trust is packed into his soul. I don’t have to dig for it because I see it in his eyes and I feel it in his embrace.

Right now.

That’s another thing I counted and compared.

Trust.

I never found it on the other side.

I never found this on the other side.

A laugh pops from me when he leans me back to sway us. It’s exaggerative as we swing back up. And then he’s angling me down once again.

We repeat this cycle for the rest of the song, our arms snuggling us closer as our eyes close. And even though he’s not voicing it, I know we’re imagining the same picture.

We’re dancing for those two kids living on a prayer across the dirt path.

Without warning, his hand snatches mine, only for his grip to loosen just enough to spin me under his palm. My free arm shoots out, eyelids dropping as the dewy breeze whisks between the strands of my hair.

I twirl and twirl and twirl until his other arm snakes around my lower back. He plants me on his bent knee, my eyes bursting open. My free palm lands on his upper arm as I kick my right leg out, and we pause for a moment. Locked in a classic dip you’d only see in a romance movie.

A wide smile paints my lips, the stars above forming a halo around Brant. “How’d you learn that? I thought I’d be the only one with rhythm.”

Steadily, he lifts us upright while he says, “Doves fly in perfect harmony. Haven’t you heard?”

Laughter punctures through my lungs, and once we gain our footing back, he seizes both my hands in his. We step away from each other, only for him to spin me until my backside is pasted to his chest.

I drop my head back, eyes shutting as I lean into him. Our tangled arms settle in front of me as we sidestep, only for Brant to spin me around once again.

“Whoo-wee!” Brant hollers just as he unlocks me from his grip. I’m cackling when he playfully coaxes me over to him with a finger, and I decide to play into his game.

I strut in my boots, throwing a few line dance moves as I inch closer to him. And all the while, I realize that maybe, just maybe, we don’t look that different than the people on the other side of this hill.

* * *

We walk up the hill across from The 1984 Barn, turning when we land on the summit. I lower just as Brant does, sitting on the dry grass.