Page 155 of White Lights
“I’m sorry—”
“I got mad. And then I got scared for you. And then I’d go back and forth. But now that you’re here, and I can see that you’re alive, I think I should be furious, but I’m … happy. It’s strange.”
“I’m happy, too.” Dez swallows a lump in her throat. “I’m happy you’re alive.”
“I’mnot the one who vanished.” He takes a right into a parking lot, not far from where Dez landed Jet’s plane. He pulls into a spot near a sign for a trailhead.
“What are we doing?” Dez asks, nervously looking around at the innocent trees.
“I just realized I was driving toward my house,” he says. “But if I took you inside, like I want to take you inside, and then we … and then you aren’t there tomorrow …” He shakes his head. “I can’t do that again.” He points out the window. “There’s a trail here. Maybe we can take a walk.”
Dez considers the dangers of a hiking trail, knowing the particular dangers they’re up against could and will come from anywhere.She feels better that they’re away from the shore, but she can’t tell if they’d be safer sitting here, in his car, or on a trail? She doesn’t know. But she decides she’ll have better luck explaining the situation to Asher, getting him on her side, if she starts by agreeing with him now.
“Let’s take a walk,” she says.
The steep path makes a switchback out of the parking lot and arcs back toward the ocean. The Pacific waters are alive with waves again, freed from the spell of the Soma. Dez watches them roll toward the shore. She’s back in time. And she doesn’t have much.
As they walk, she peeks at Asher from the corner of her eye. He’s peeking at her. They laugh. It’s light. It’s heavy. After all the time she spent wanting to see him again, just like this, she finds the reality hard to believe. She forgot how much taller he is than her. How constantly he brushes his golden hair out of his eyes.
He cannot die today.
“You look different,” he says.
“What do you mean?” Dez asks, self-conscious, tucking a long strand of hair behind her ears. Did he remember her differently? Better than she really is?
“You look beautiful,” he says, “don’t get me wrong. You just look like maybe you’ve seen some things since the last time we were together.”
Dez doesn’t know how to respond. All these months she’s felt herself growing closer to Asher, learning more about his world. She doesn’t want to seem like a stranger to him.
“Maybe it’s just your clothes,” he says, reaching out to finger the white silk tie on her blouse, glancing down at her black suede boots. “Can you hike in those?”
“I’m good,” she says. “Watch out!”
She grabs his hand and holds him back because they’ve come upon acliff ’s edge, fiery California poppies painting limits of the path. Asher rounds the bend in the trail, giving Dez a curious look. He offers her his hand to help her round it, too. His touch is warm and sure, his skin incomparably smooth.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Sure. Sorry.”
“I guess you applied to film school?” he asks as they keep walking.
“You remembered.”
“Not something I’d forget,” he says. They’re still holding hands. “You left my bed before the sun rose to work on your application.”
“Right.” Dez bites her lower lip. It would be just like an alternate version of herself to forsake sunrise in bed with Asher to finish a grad school application.
She knows better now. If she’s learned anything from making films at Acheron, it’s that the life that matters comes from lingering with people you love.
Strange to use the wordloveto describe a man she’s only met once, but it’s the word that comes to mind.
“Did you hear from AFI?” Asher asks.
Dez used to be a woman who thought her life depended on an acceptance letter from the American Film Institute. Today she knows her life actually depends on this hike, these moments, right now with Asher.
She hadn’t expected him to wonder about her application. It moves her that it’s even on his mind.
His words have opened a door to the conversation Dez fears having. But knows she needs to have. She clears her throat.
