I don’t know how long we’ve been standing in the shadows of the party, chatting about things like how oddly unbearable the heat feels this summer; why he loved the movie Se7en, and I didn’t; that a song hasn’t played that we both like; and when I mentioned that I’m looking for Grace, he says he knows her. I’m trying not to act too desperate as I sip my drink and play with my necklace, something I do when I’m nervous, but he’s making me feel like Ian did in the beginning, when he noticed me, actually saw me, and how I believed him when he said he would keep me safe. “Because I was worth saving.”
As we’re flirting, my arm feels heavy and moves too slowly when I try to touch his face. Hoping he doesn’t notice, I lean back against the wall, feeling disoriented. He’s moving in closer, and I think he’s going to kiss me, but he reaches up and holds the locket of my necklace in his hand and says, “It’s almost as beautiful as you,” and I say, “Thank you,” and after a beat, “I never take it off.” Someone turns up “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails, and I feel dizzy, but I think he says, “Good,” as the room starts to spin.
He places the locket back on my chest, straightens it, and moves his hand down my side to my waist, just above my belt. I’m breathing heavily, trying to keep it together, as he pulls me into him; our cheeks are touching, his lips are caressing my ear, and I can feel the warmth of the words when he says, “Let’s get out of here; I want to show you something.” And that sentence lingers a bit too long until a group of people by the stereo yell, “I want to fuck you like an animal,” and suddenly I realize how fast we’re walking out of the living room, and my legs are wobbly, so I squeeze his hand tighter and try not to stumble as we drift through the rest of the house. Trent Reznor singing, “you get me closer to God,” is the last thing I hear before the front door quickly shuts behind us.
***
Warmth is circulating through my body as I move the necklace back and forth in my hands, and as I do, the mixed scent slowly dissipates. While I listen to the tide shift, I’m trying to match my heartbeat to the rise-and-fall pattern. It’s so quiet out here that I can actually concentrate fully on it until I hear a car door slam shut. The sound repeats a few more times, echoing along the beach, and my body slightly jerks in the sand, forcing me to lose focus on the moment.
I light a cigarette, letting it dangle between my lips, and unbutton my shirt. As the air shakes the bottom corners behind me, I exhale the smoke and distort the outline of the city, which is coming into view beyond the water. The buildings once stood elegant and significant; I remember them towering high with meaning. Now they seem bent and tired, like a fire is burning beneath them all. All the foundations are melting, and everything is sinking, slowly being pulled into the earth.
