“I had to take care of her. I was fourteen, I could only focus on one catastrophe at a time. I… I broke the window to steal the car wash money to try to take care of her. Frankie needed to see a doctor and she hadn’t told my mom yet, so everything was just a mess. That day you found me, thinking about crawling through that broken window to steal that money, was probably one of the worst days of my life,” Elijah says. “I felt like I was backed into a corner, and I didn’t have the smarts to do anything else. All I knew was that I needed money to take care of my family, and that was the best way I could think of at the time to get it. So stupid.” He shakes his head and lowers his chin to his chest.

I put my hand gently under his chin until he raises his eyes to meet mine. “You can’t be mad at your fourteen-year-old self, Elijah. It sounds like you’ve done a pretty good job taking care of everyone since then,” I say.

We stay quiet for a long time. Eventually, Elijah curls up on his side on top of his sleeping bag with his back to me. His breathing slows, and I’m pretty sure he’s fallen asleep. I lie on my side, watching his ribs rhythmically rise and fall. The coming sunrise paints the inside of the tent with a warm purple light. It illuminates the curve of his neck, his earlobe, his shoulder.

I’m close enough that he can probably feel my warm breath on his back. My fingers ache with the nearness of him. I scoot closer, curve my body the way his is curved. Knees tucked up, right arm curled under my head. I breathe in his skin, his hair, his body. I lie behind him, aching to reach out and make the connection. My skin touching his. My knees tucked behind his. My lips on his neck.

Instead, I lie perfectly still, my fingertips a hair’s breadth from his lower back, hoping he’ll inch my way sometime before the sun fully rises.

· twenty-two ·

ELIJAH

I wake up to the dulcet tones of Bucky’s truck rumbling. It feels like the entire beach is shaking. The sun is beating through the thin tent material, and I’m covered in sweat. Julian is already up and out.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Nate jokes when I finally crawl out of the tent. “It’s almost noon!”