Moment of Truth - Kasie West Page 0,68
this side. The lake wasn’t even visible from where we’d parked. It was my secret little swimming cove. “Come here. I want to show you something.” Before we got out, I pointed to the mask. “Maybe you should put that on.”
He laughed. “I’m good.”
“Wait, have you never worn it before?”
“Do you know how many people have worn that mask? The last girl who wore it was a little sketchy.”
I hit his arm and he laughed.
“I don’t believe you’ve never worn it.”
“There’s a process, a protocol. You have to get nominated and then approved by the keeper. I don’t want to mess with the power of the mask, throw off the fine balance.”
I shook my head and opened the door. “Come on.”
He let me lead him down the dirt path that was so familiar to me. His hand felt nice in mine, like it belonged there. I stopped us at the edge of the path and turned off the light on my phone. Then I took him by the shoulders and faced him toward the lake that I knew was now less than ten steps away. The only thing I could see was a few bright spots in the darkness—the reflection of the stars above on the water. I positioned myself behind him, laying my cheek on his back. I wrapped my arms around him, placing one palm flat on his chest so I could feel his heartbeat.
He took a deep breath in.
“What do you see?” I asked.
“Nothing. Darkness.”
“But you know there’s something there, right?”
“I assume something is there.”
“Just because you can’t see the future, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. You don’t have to see everything clearly or know exactly where you’re going to move forward.”
I slipped out of my shoes and whispered for him to do the same. I felt him shift as he stepped out of his.
“You move forward.” I took a step, which pushed his leg forward and we walked like that until the water and mud seeped between our toes. “And when the future surrounds you, then you know where you are, what the steps you took led you to.”
“Are we at the lake?” he asked. His voice was low and husky.
“I swim here sometimes. If I had a car, I could swim here a lot more.” My cheek was still pressed up against his back, my arms still wrapped around his torso. Last time I had been here, I couldn’t force myself to relax. Now my whole body seemed to lack muscles. It would melt to the ground if I let it. Jackson laid one of his hands on top of mine.
“Jackson?”
“Hmm?”
“I like you just as much when you’re serious.”
It surprised me when he took a shuddering breath.
“You owe me comfort through an emotional breakdown,” he said.
“Yes. I totally do.”
At first I thought he was kidding, being funny, like he seemed to do when things got too heavy. But when he turned in my arms, put his forehead to my shoulder, and held on to me like his life depended on it, I realized he wasn’t. I didn’t think I was a sympathetic crier. I mean, my parents had cried many times and I’d stood there as dry eyed as the Sahara desert. But there was something about holding Jackson that got to me.
I rubbed his back like he had mine until it stilled. Until my feet were numb from the lake. He straightened up, touching his forehead to mine. He was a shadow in the darkness, but I could see his eyes shining. He took my face in his hands and kissed my cheeks where my tears lingered. Then he kissed my forehead. My hands held his wrists and I could tell he was going to move away so I tightened my hold. He paused, hesitated, then with a deep breath, kissed me.
My hands went to his hair, pulling him closer. His mouth was warm, his breath hot. I parted my lips and his tongue ran softly along them before it found mine, joining us closer together. He backed us out of the water, gripping my hips now. My hands went to his shoulders so that I didn’t fall.
His mouth tasted of cinnamon. Cinnamon was my new favorite flavor. My back hit a tree and he pressed himself against me.
And then his phone rang.
He groaned. “It must be twelve oh five.”
I tried to catch my breath, unsuccessfully. “If it’s your parents, you should answer so they know you’re safe.”
“I don’t know that I am safe.”