nights here have definitely been a highlight of this summer. The kids all love Remi and he’s already talking about coming to visit when he’s home on break.
He’s gotten particularly close to one of the kids who’s been there since I was. Carlos is severely disabled—cognitively delayed, deaf, and confined to his wheelchair by a palsy that means he’ll never walk. But he practically radiates with joy whenever he sees Remi.
I’ll be sad for him once Remi’s gone.
Sad for myself, too.
He closes the door he opened for me and walks around to the driver’s side. I admire him as he goes. He’s so handsome, his profile is chiseled perfection, he has cheekbones I would kill for and his skin is the nutty light brown perfection I’ve only ever seen on the inside of the acorns that fall from the trees in the yard of our old house.
He starts the ignition and buckles himself in before he reaches across and buckles me in, too. When he does, I slip my hand around his neck and he growls slightly before he takes my lips in a kiss that we’ve both been needing since he got to the house. Our lips suck and nip at each other before he pulls back, trails kisses up my cheek.
Every time we kiss, I feel weightless. Like if he wasn’t holding onto me, I’d defy gravity and fly away.
“I missed you, Will,” he whispers when his ear comes to rest on my ear. His hands caress my shoulder and I nestle my face into his neck and take a deep breath. He smells like soap and the cinnamon candy he’s started eating, too.
“Missed you, too, baby.” I kiss his throat and wrap my arms around his shoulders and hug him.
“I want to take you somewhere special tomorrow, but you need to come to my house.”
“Your mother is not going to let me spend any time in your house.”
“Let me worry about that.” He says it so easily. I’m not convinced, but I smile because I don’t want to do anything to dim the light in his eyes.
“Okay… I can’t wait. Even though, really, I can because it means you’re leaving.”
He gives me an enigmatic smile, like he’s got something to say but doesn’t quite know how.
“What?”
He pulls away from the curb and we begin the scenic drive out of River’s Wilde.
“You know… Georgetown has a Creative Writing program.”
“That’s nice…” I say not making the connection.
“Well, maybe you should apply.”
“Why Georgetown? I don’t know anyone in DC.”
“You’d know me,” he says and I do a double take.
“Remi, last I checked, UT is in Austin.”
“I applied to Howard. I got in. I think I’m going to go.”
I blink at him. I’m not surprised that he wants to go. But I’m shocked that he’s actually going to do it.
“You are?”
“Yeah.” His voice is full of so much wonder that I know he’s surprised at himself, too.
“What about your mom? Your grandfather?”
He sighs deeply, his brows draw together and then, he shrugs. “This summer, I’ve had so many signs that this is the right thing. But volunteering here has really solidified it for me. And Lupe’s told me so much… The stories of how some of the kids end up there. How some of the kids enter into the system and then for lack of a good advocate end up right back in situations they’ve just escaped from. Or end up aging out and having nowhere to go because no one’s helped them plan. I don’t know, but Kal, there’s something about the idea of stepping into that breach, of doing something to change their outcomes, that strikes a chord with me. It resonates the way reading Marshall’s biography did. I want to make a real difference. I have so much, what good am I if I don’t give something back?”
I put my hand, upturned, on his thigh. His slides his hand onto it and we link fingers.
“You’re wonderful.” I beam up at him, and the last sliver of sun as it falls from the sky slides across his face just then. His eyes, which are normally as dark as the night sky are set ablaze by it.
In their fire, I see all of the happily ever afters I thought wouldn’t be mine.
God, how I want to be his.
He cups my face in his strong cool hands. “You’re the one who introduced me to CASA. If I’m one hundred percent honest, this started because I wanted to spend time with you.”
“I