Somewhere Between Water and Sky (Shattered Things #2) by Elora Ramirez

exhausting. ”
    “ Stop trying to pretend you don ’ t want to be with Jessa. ” I jerk my thumb toward her chest and she blushes. “ Everyone can see your hard-on from a mile away. ”
    They stare at me gape-mouthed for a few seconds until I finally roll my eyes. “ It ’ s not like I just said something earth shattering. Like I said: a mile away. For both of you. Jesus. I don ’ t understand the whole we-like-each-other-but-are-giving-the-other-one-space shit. Seems asking for trouble. ” Wiping my mouth with a napkin, I bring it down and start picking it to pieces.
    Reminds me of that time in the diner with Kevin … .
    Shit.
    Memories are dangerous. With memories come voices. I sniff and throw the shredded napkin on the leftover crusts on my plate and check to see if their plates are empty.
    I gotta get out of here.
    “ So uh … .can we do Sunset Cliffs now? ” I point toward the sky through the window in the front of the store. “ Looks like we only have a little over an hour of daylight left. ”
    “ Oh! Right. Sunset. ” Ren pats his jeans for his keys and begins to look worried before I push them forward on the table. Jessa combs through her hair and hazards a glance toward Ren before glancing at me and offering a small smile.
    She leans forward as I maneuver myself out of the booth and tweaks my elbow with her fingers. Turning around to face her, her small smile stretches across her face into the grin of one who has a master plan.
    “ I like when you get feisty, Stephanie. You know, I feel like this is the beginning of what could be a beautiful and adventurous friendship. ” She licks her lips and jerks her head toward Ren. “ I haven ’ t seen him that flustered since I showed up to work licking a multi-colored lollipop.
    I snort.
    “ You ’ re evil, you know that, Jessa? Poor guy doesn ’ t even have a chance. ”
    She cackles.
    “ I know. It ’ s glorious. ”
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Five
     
    We pull up to Sunset Cliffs and there ’ s not a soul in sight. Jessa takes the rubber band around her wrist and lifts and twists her hair into a high bun to fight the wind.
    “ I can ’ t believe there ’ s no one here. ”
    I can ’ t either. I breathe in deep — smelling the ocean and feeling the wind blow my hair loose of its braid. I don ’ t even care. I walk to the edge of the cliff and hold my hands to my chest as if to keep the ache inside.
    Sometimes beauty hurts you with her power.
    The waves are rushing up to the cliff and crashing against the rock, spraying salt water up above. My flesh erupts in goosebumps and I shiver. I don ’ t know if I believe in holy spaces. But here? I gaze out to the almost imperceptible line where water meets sky.
    Here, everything seems sacred.
    A wave crashes beneath me and the foam sprays up and over the ledge, baptizing my feet. I breathe in quick and blink away the tears. It ’ s almost too much. I hesitate, wondering if I should just walk away. Maybe I ’ m making too much of things.
    But the waves seem to take on a different chorus, beckoning me closer and closer to the edge.
    I find a spot that ’ s dry and sit down, curling my legs into my chest and resting my chin on my knees.
    The sky is screaming too, but this time I ’ m not sure I want to hear.
    She ’ s begging me to remember mornings spent watching her grab hold of the blackness and edging it out for another day.
    Begging me to hold on — to believe — to rest in second chances.
    Because there ’ s always another day coming, right?
    But there ’ s also the ending — the way the colors give in to the darkness and disappear for a moment.
    Which one of those is truth?
    I sit and listen to the chorus above and below me, wondering if just maybe, that ’ s where my hope is: somewhere in the middle between water and sky.
    Speaking of hope.
    I bite my lip and close my eyes against Jessa and Ren ’ s giggles behind me. Their happiness reminds me of piggybacks under the