Page 75 of Let the Light Shine Through

What feels like a band of steel wraps around my waist and Roz hauls me off my feet, walking us several yards over to the tree line. Out of view from the highway, he sets me down in front of a tall birch tree, coming in close to rasp near the shell of my ear, “Let me do things to you.”

“What things?”

“All of them.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, forcing the words, “I can’t,” out.

A whoosh of air replaces Roz at my back, and I carefully turn in my spot, spinning my hat around until the bill is facing forward but slightly slanted to the side, then relax against the tree’s trunk, regarding him silently because if I open my mouth, it’ll all spill out. More and more I have to bite my tongue, and it’s starting to feel like I’m trying to hold Niagara Falls back.

Roz closes his eyes, his fists curling at his sides. He’s the visual representation of how I feel inside—coiled tight, ready to strike, ready to claim.

Slowly, he opens them, then his mouth, but I cover his lips with my fingers, telling him, “Shh. Listen.”

The dirt clashes with the pine-filled breeze blowing past in an intoxicating blend of untouched earth. The wind cuts off suddenly, revealing the sound of rushing water somewhere nearby and a Blue Heron flying overhead squawks loudly like a pterodactyl ruling the sky.

Nature heals us. Nature feeds us. Nature gives us life by providing everything we require: soil, air, water, and our most powerful source of energy, the sun.

“Do you feel that?”

Aside from his rapidly expanding chest, Roz doesn’t make a single move.

“You lost it?”

A slight shake of his head can’t hide the agony overtaking his face. He didn’t lose his connection to nature. He left it.

“You belong out here.”

I drop my hand to his chest, feeling his heartbeat through his ribs while he watches me from under hooded lids.

“This is where you should be. Not locked up in a bare room, living with people you don’t even care enough about to talk to.”

Goose bumps start at the top of his shoulders, branching outward like a snowflake growing, and he says, “I care,” so quietly I’d miss it if I wasn’t paying close attention.

Rays of just warming sunlight slice through the leaves above us, bathing everything in a sea of illumination. Different shades of neon green dance over our hair and faces, and we both look up, hypnotized by the spontaneous production.

“I care a lot.”

I bring my gaze back to his, finding his focus solely on me.

“I…” Am about to burst. I can’t do this.

I stand from the tree, pushing him back.

“Gia, let me—”

“There will be other girls at the cabin, Roz!” I shout, scaring a dozen, if not more, birds from their perches on the boughs above us. “Lots of girls, who would probably love to let you do all kinds of things to them.” I swallow the acid filling my mouth. “So, keep it in your pants a little bit longer. We’ll be there soon.”

“Are you serious? I just told you—”

“Then I guess we’re both shitty listeners because I just. Told. You. I. Fucking. Can’t.”

Without waiting for him, I return to his truck, my gaze fixed on my lap. What am I doing?

“Where’s this cabin you keep talking about?” Roz asks, slamming his door shut before shoving his shirt back over his head. “Where are we even going?”

He’s pissed. He shouldn’t be. He won’t be. Whatever blow I just delivered to his ego will soon be soothed by someone ten times better than me.

I twist my head the other direction to hide the tears filling my eyes, telling him, “Take the next exit,” as he merges back into traffic. “It’s at the base of Willmont Mountain. You’ll see the signs.”