Page 52 of Where You Are
“What?” I ask, looking back to the glass and it’s sharp, jagged edges and –ohh. “Is this what I stepped on?” He gives a curt nod.
“Most likely.”
“Thanks for clearing that up,” I say, a little confused as to why he felt the need to bring it to me.
“Thought you’d like a souvenir,” he jabs with a hint of cynicism in his voice. At least he seems capable of some kind of emotion.
“Um… thanks. I’m not on vacation though,” I remind him, and change the subject by turning to Sasha. “Ben, this is my friend, Sasha.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr., uh, Ben!” Sasha greets as she stands to shake hands.
“You too,” he responds, quiet but polite at least. He seems to have left his asshole armor at home today.
“I have yoga,” she announces to us both, gathering up her things. I’d call her out on bailing, but I know she does have a class to teach soon on the other end of the beach. I tell her I’ll catch her later and Ben gives a subtle wave as she heads off.
“How’s the foot?” he asks, looking down after she leaves.
“It’s doing okay, thanks. I hate that I can’t run, but I went to the clinic and got some dressing supplies and it’s a little less painful.”
Ben looks around for a moment before turning back to me. “Mind if I sit?” he finally asks, gesturing at the spot on my blanket next to me.
“Are you sure you want to?” I tease. “I mean, I’m apeople.”
“I’ll take my chances,” he says, lowering himself to sit a respectable distance from me on the blanket and looks out over the water. I tuck my legs under me Indian style and straighten my spine.
“Why?”
“Why what?” he volleys back, still staring forward with his arms resting on his knees like the whole plan was to just sit here in weird silence.
“Why are you ‘taking your chances’ as you say, on me? I mean, you seem very closed off to the entire human race.” I also wouldn’t mind knowing why he offered up a cryptic yet intimate detail of his life to me the other night. He gives a subtle nod in acknowledgement.
“And what are you doing here, if you’re not on vacation? You’re clearly American.”
“You clearly are too, so I could ask you the same.”
“I asked you first.”
“After I asked you something that you still haven’t answered. Like I said, you don’t have to share, neither do I.” I turn my face towards the ocean in a gesture of finality.
“I answered one of your questions the other night,” he points out calmly.
Shit. And I didn’t answer any of his that night. Ben-1; Me-0.
“You’re right,” I concede blowing out a sigh. “But why did you anyway?”
Although I can’t see his eyes from behind his shades, he raises a challenging eyebrow.
I let out an exasperated breath and pinch the bridge of my nose. “It’s complicated.” I really don’t want to talk about this. It’s half of what’s gotten me this far; not talking about it. It’s easier to pretend that nothing happened to bring me here, that I’ve been here all along.
“You’ve been through something,” he offers, filling in the blank for me. I can’t look at him, but decide to confirm with a nod as I look down at my hands. Why I’m giving him this is beyond me. Maybe it’s the fact that he goes out of his way to avoid interacting with people, yet here he is, extending an olive branch. Or maybe it’s because he seems as troubled as I am. I’m forever thankful for Sasha and the rock she’s been for me, but she’s not going through any personal struggles. There’s something about being able to relate to someone on a certain level, and even though he’s staying mum, I know Bencanrelate.
The fact that he helped me the other night, no matter how reluctantly, tells me he doesn’t have walls up for the hell of it.
“Seeing you the other night was like looking in a damn mirror,” he states disbelievingly, making my head turn back in his direction. He’s still addressing the ocean. “And for once… I didn’t hate having someone around.” I feel my lips part as I try to absorb what he’s telling me, but keep quiet, waiting for more. “And then you did me one better,” he adds, and my forehead crinkles.
“What do you mean?”
He finally drags his gaze over to me.