June 23, 1975
Dorcas walked the grounds slowly, letting the sweetness of the air and the sunshine melt slowly through her skin. Her shoes were off and the coolness of the grass invigorated the soles of her feet. She let her hair hang down her back, the long brown tresses uncombed and wet.
It felt a happy contrast to the coldness inside her, the twisting of her guts from these last few weeks.
June had bloomed and she'd missed it. She'd skipped spring entirely, going from bleak winter to dazzling sun. Maybe that's why the ice in her belly hadn't yet melted away. It hung around, defying nature and the natural order of things.
That wasn't true, though. Its real cause sat twenty yards away and every step brought her closer to him.
-
There was no sensation, really, like that of his skin touching hers. She couldn't fathom not touching him, keeping the electric connection alive for another moment. His hands, his arms, his face, his neck. His shoulders, wide and smooth.
Something was gone, though. She saw it in the halls of school, in the separation from her during class. She needed to ask him. Why don't you look at me? Why don't you talk to me? Why are there two you's and two me's? Why do I doubt? I don't want to doubt. I hate the doubt.
Doubt burns like acid.
He smiled down at her. "I love you," he said. Happy.
"I love you, too," she said.
And just like that, she realized down to her bones that they were two separate people.