Authors: Jo Watson
And thenâ¦
Something terrible happenedâ¦
I've only ever regretted wearing two outfits in my entire life, but I have legitimate excuses for both.
Like most, my teenage years were a confusing time. Made even more confusing by the fashion choices of the day. The mid-2000s boasted two very conflicting looks, making confused teenagers, with confused self-identities, confused hormones and low self-esteems, even more confused.
It was all very traumatic for us. We just didn't know where we fit in.
So one night, we experimented with our darker, emo-esque sides; we put so much makeup on that we transformed our eyes into black pits of hell. We donned our Converse sneakers, worn in of course to look old, and some baggy camo shorts held up with studded belts. We hadn't washed or brushed our hair for at least five days to give us that
I just don't care
tussled look, and for the most important touch, I borrowed some of my dad's ties to hang around our necks for absolutely no reason whatsoever. We put on our most angry rebellion faces and all went to Jessica's party.
There'd been a lot of head banging that night, as well as bumping into one another on the dance floor (i.e., Jessica's parents' living room). We all acted very angry and pretended we knew how to skateboard and smoked cigarettes so the boys would think we were cool. But the next day we woke up with bruises from the bashing, sore necks from the banging, and dry throats from the smoking. We concluded that this was not a good look for us.
A couple of weeks later it was Phillip's party, and Annie made us some bright, color-coded outfits. We wore the biggest fake diamanté hoop earrings we could find, oversized shadesâeven though it was darkâand lip gloss that shined so much it could be seen from space.
But after a night of too many energy drinks and a
doof
,
doof
,
doof
,
doof
,
doof
hip-hop base that reverberated so hard it made Phillip's mother's ornaments vibrate on the shelves, we decided that we would leave that look for Destiny's Child and J. Lo.
But that regret was
nothing
compared to this oneâ¦
There was nothing aesthetically wrong with the outfit I was wearing tonight; rather, it was more of a practical issue. It was a stunning white vintage, knee-length dress with delicate lace detailing. The neckline tied together with beautiful cream ribbons that hung just below my bust.
And who could have predicted what happened next?
A warm gust of wind suddenly came out of nowhere, knocking several candles over. One went flying into my lap, instantly burning a little hole in the fabric. But that wasn't the problem. The real problem was that the beautiful cream ribbons around the neckline caught fire. Who knew ribbons were so damn flammable?
I was on fire!
I jumped up and started swatting myself frantically. The look on Damian's face was pure horror, and I've never seen anyone get out of his seat so quickly.
“Oh my God, Lilly, you've burst into flames!” Damian rushed at me with a napkin and started slapping.
“Ow!” I shrieked. “That hurts!”
“Would you rather I left you to burn?” Damian shouted back at me. The whole scene was very dramatic.
The little flames were getting higher and higher and heading directly for my face.
“Take it off! Take it off!” Damian shouted.
“What? My dress? Are you kidding?”
“Jesus, Lilly, this is no time to be prudish, just take it off. It's not like I haven't seen it before.”
I flushed hotter than the creeping flames.
“I knew it. You watched me get undressed at the airport, didn't you?”
“It was an accident. I didn't mean to.”
I was mortified and put my face in my hands, temporarily forgetting about the impending incineration. “I'm so embarrassed.”
“It's getting worse.” He pointed at the dress as the other ribbon went up in flames. I could feel the heat now. It wasn't burning me yet, because the ribbons weren't attached directly to the dress, but it was only a matter of time.
And then I felt two strong hands on my back andâ¦
Splash.
Everything went wet.
Wet and sandy.
Damian had pushed me face-first into the water.
I emerged spluttering, my face and mouth full of sand.
“What the hell?” The initial shock at being thrown into the water quickly turned to anger. “I can't believe you did that!” I was seething at the nerve of it!
“Hey, I might have just saved your life, Lilly, and this is the thanks I get?”
I paused and thought about it. What would I have done if I'd been in his shoes?
Yup, I would have done the same thing.
“Look, if it makes you feel any better, I'll do it, too.”
And then there was another huge splash as Damian threw himself into the water right next to me.
“You're crazy, you know that?”
“I've heard that one before,” he said, flashing me yet another one of those wicked smiles that gave him his dangerous-looking edge. I looked straight back at him this time and got that same strange feeling I'd had before.
What the hell was it?
It's not like I liked this guy or was even attracted to him.
So why on earth did I suddenly have butterflies?
It was my turn to break eye contact.
The warm, shallow water felt amazing, and neither of us got up; instead, we just sat there together in the moonlight, looking up at the night sky, our shoulders almost touching.
“You see that bright light over there?” Damian pointed and my eyes followed his finger.
“Yes.”
“It's a galaxy called Andromeda, and there are one trillion stars in it. Can you imagine that? The sheer scale of it? Kind of makes you feel insignificant, really.”
I turned and looked at Damian; he was engrossed in the night sky, with a look on his face that could only be described as awe, and for the first time ever, he seemed vulnerable.
The moonlight was illuminating his face, and I took the opportunity to study him through this new lens. Strands of dark wet hair fell into his face. His features definitely didn't belong to that of a pretty boy, but they worked. He had a certain intensity to him; it was present in the way he spoke, the way he moved around with such confidence, and the way his smile lit up his dark eyes.
“How do you know so much about this stuff? Space?” I asked.
“I studied physics at university,” he said, without the slightest hint of playfulness in his voice. He sounded serious.
“No! You're kidding, right?” He had to be jokingâonly mathematical geniuses like Einstein studied physics.
“Nope, I'm a big old nerd,” he said casually. “My main area of interest is Hawking radiation. ”
“Wow! Sounds impressive, although I have no idea what the hell that even means.” I looked at the tattoos running up and down his arms, the old sneakers, the T-shirt with a biohazard symbol on it, and the very wrinkled button-down shirt that was hanging open in the front. Damian was definitely a complicated puzzle that I was nowhere near solving. And if I ever did solve it, there would probably be a missing piece, anyway.
“So, genius physicist, with really rich parents, backpacking the world with no bank card. How did that happen?”
He shrugged. “I decided I couldn't work in a career studying what lies beyond our planet when I knew so little about it.”
“That's so deep!” I said in my best stoned-hippie accent.
He smiled his sideways smile at me. “I can be deep from time to time.”
A silence settled in; only the sounds of the tiny waves gently lapping around us could be heard.
“And you? What's Lilly's big story?”
Oh God, I hate questions like this. They're so open-ended that I never know where to start.
“Ask me something. What do you want to know?” I said, secretly hoping he wouldn't.
“Okeydokey⦔ Damian said, folding his legs and turning to face me.
The movement caught me off guard, and apart from that taxi ride, this was the closest we'd ever been. I felt very awkward and quickly busied myself by running my hand through the warm waters, picking up the sand and letting it gently fall through my fingers. Suddenly, Damian took off his button-down shirt, attempted to squeeze out the water, and passed it to me.
“Here,” he said, averting his eyes.
“What's this for?”
“It's to coverâ¦well, your dress is a bit see-through.”
“Oh God.” I gasped and looked down. To say it was see-through was an understatement. I put the shirt on and buttoned it up quickly. “Thanks.”
“Pleasure.”
Another strange, awkward silence moved between us again until Damian finally broke it.
“So I know your sister-in-law is a lawyer.” He stifled a small chuckle. “I think everyone in the airport knows that. What do you do?”
I was relieved he'd spoken and even more relieved he'd chosen an easy question and not something existential and profound about the meaning of life or something.
“Well it's nothing as fancy as physics, but I love it! I'm an auditor. I work at my dad's auditing firm.”
“You love it?” Damian echoed, sounding surprised. People were often surprised that I could enjoy a job like that.
“Yes. I like the way it all works out perfectly in the end. You reconcile the value of the assets. You check all the costs, see if they match the values in the books, and make sure everything balances out perfectly. It's simple. I like that about it. It's either right or wrong. Black or white. Like life.”
Damian looked at me curiously. “You really believe that? That life has no gray areas? Don't you think the world is a little more complex than that, Lilly?” he said in a voice that seemed to challenge me.
“No, I think that everything can be boiled down to one or the other. Black or white. Right or wrong. Left or right,” I replied, confident that I was right.
Damian turned away. His eyes glazed over and he suddenly looked very distant.
“My sister died when she was five,” he said in a hushed tone that was almost inaudible. “She was beautiful. She had this pitch-black hair, with pale skin and the bluest eyes you ever saw. We all called her Snow White. She was so curious and full of energy; she never stopped, like a little Energizer Bunny. One day, ten years ago, she was riding her bike on the street. We lived on a quiet suburban road at the time, so it wasn't dangerous; we used to do it all the time. This guy, Brian, was driving down the street, driving under the speed limit, even, when his car hit a jagged rock and his tire burst. He lost control momentarily and hit her. And even though he was going slowly, she died instantly. The doctors said that had she been older, she would've survived. But she was so tiny.” Damian's voice quivered, and I could feel his pain.
“Brian jumped out of the car and tried to resuscitate her. Eventually he picked her up in his arms and started running to the hospital. He must have run a mile before someone helped him. He took her to the emergency room butâ¦like I said, she was already dead.” He paused and looked down at the heart-shaped tattoo on his wrist. “It was a freak accident. The wrong place at the wrong time. There's no one to blame, no right or wrong, no justice. And I've wanted to blame someone so badly, but the fact is, I feel sorry for Brian. I feel sorry for the guy who killed my sister. We've even become friends over the years, if you can believe that. Talk about a gray area. He still calls and sends us a card and flowers every year on the anniversary. He's a good guy, and it was a terrible thing that happened, for him, too. He struggled with the guilt, he still does, and eventually fell into a deep depression and his girlfriend left him. So you tell meâ¦Right? Wrong? Simple? Life is far,
far
from simple and sometimes things are very gray.”
I was stunned. At a loss for words. It felt like I'd had the wind knocked out of my sails. What could I say in response to that? He'd been so honest and open with me that I couldn't imagine any reply in the world would do it justice. And in that moment, I felt so close to this stranger.
We sat in silence for a few moments before I finally spoke. “My parents got divorced when I was very young and I lived with my mother. She's a theater actress.” I rolled my eyes and saw Damian give a faint smile. “She's an alcoholic and an addict, too, and we moved around constantly. I think we lived in about twenty different places in the span of four years. She didn't even care if I went to school or not, all she cared about was getting drunk or high and being adored on stage. She once disappeared for seven days when I was eight. My dad fought for custody for years, and every time it looked like he was going to win, she swore blindly she'd clean up, and the courts would give her another chance. She would be fine for a couple of months, but then something would happen and she'd drink or use again. But when I was twelve, she had a car accident with me in the car. I broke my arm and my wrist. She was obviously drunk and that was the last straw, my dad got custody. But⦔
I felt sad just thinking about it. “Those first twelve years of my life were really tough and I was pretty messed up when I finally moved in with my dad. I guess that's why my family is so protective over me.” I could feel the tears building, but I took a deep breath and fought them back down.
And then I flinched as a tiny fish swam to my foot and past me. Soon, another fish went by and another and another until a small school of brightly colored fish swam between us. Damian put his hand into the water, and we both watched as the tiny fish darted through his open fingers.
“Try it!” But without waiting for a reply he took my hand and plunged it into the water next to his. I watched in wonder as the silver-and-blue fish weaved their way through our fingers. They tickled, and we both laughed out loud.
“So, I guess we're both damaged souls then, Lilly.” Damian looked at me and I could see that his mood had lifted, and so had mine.