A Thousand Boy Kisses(64)

Poppy shuffled closer, kissing my cheek, my head and, finally, my mouth. “And now I have you. As I know now it was meant to be. This is where we were meant to be at this precise moment in time—home.”

I felt a stray tear escape my eye. Poppy quickly brushed it away with her thumb. She leaned over me, across my chest and said, “I have come to understand that death, for the sick, is not so hard to endure. For us, eventually, our pain ends, we go to a better place. But for those left behind, their pain only magnifies.”

Poppy took my hand and held it to her cheek. “I really believe that tales of loss don’t always have to be sad or sorrowful. I want mine to be remembered as a great adventure that I tried to live as best as I possibly could. Because how dare we waste a single breath? How dare we waste something so precious? Instead, we should strive for all those precious breaths to be taken in as many precious moments as we can squeeze into this short time on Earth. That’s the message I want to leave behind. And what a beautiful legacy to leave for those I love.”

If, as Poppy believed, a heartbeat was a song, then right now, in this moment, my heart would be singing with pride … of the complete admiration I had for the girl I loved, at the way she saw life, at the way she tried to make me believe—make me believe that there could be a life beyond her.

I was sure that wasn’t the case, but I could see that Poppy was determined. That determination never failed.

“So now you know,” Poppy declared and rested her head on my chest. “Now, let’s say no more about it. We have our future to explore. We won’t be slaves to the past.” I closed my eyes, and she pleaded, “Promise me, Rune?”

Finding my voice, I whispered, “I promise.”

I fought back the emotions slicing me inside. I wouldn’t show her any sign that I was sad. She would see only happiness from me today.

Poppy’s breathing evened out as I stroked her hair. The warm breeze flowed over us, taking with it the heaviness that had surrounded us.

I let myself begin to drift off, thinking Poppy had too, when she murmured, “What do you think heaven’s like, Rune?”

I tensed, but Poppy’s hands began to circle over my chest, ridding my body of the heaviness her question brought back.

“I don’t know,” I said. Poppy didn’t offer anything, just stayed exactly where she was. Shifting slightly to bring her tighter into my arms, I said, “Somewhere beautiful. Somewhere peaceful. Somewhere where I’d see you again.”

I felt Poppy smile against my shirt. “Me too,” she agreed softly and turned to kiss my chest.

This time I was sure Poppy slept. I looked across the sand and watched as an old couple sat down near us. Their hands were clasped tightly. Before the woman could sit, the man spread a blanket on the sand. He kissed her cheek before helping her to sit down.

A pang of jealousy shot through me. Because we would never have that.

Poppy and I would never grow old together. Never have kids. Never have a wedding. Nothing. But as I glanced down at Poppy’s thick brown hair and her delicate hands splayed on my chest, I let myself be grateful that at least I had her now. I didn’t know what lay ahead. But I had her now.

I’d had her since I was five.

I now realized why I had loved her so hard from being so young—so I had this time with her. Poppy believed her spirit always knew she’d die young. I was starting to think that maybe mine did too.

Over an hour passed. Poppy was still sleeping. I gently lifted her from my chest and sat up. The sun had moved; waves lapped the shore.

Feeling thirsty, I opened the picnic basket and pulled out one of the bottles of water Poppy had packed. As I drank, my eyes rested on the backpack Poppy had carried from the trunk.

Wondering what was inside, I hauled it over and gently opened the zipper. At first all I saw was another black bag. This bag was padded. I pulled it out and my heart kicked into a sprint when I realized what I was holding.

I sighed and closed my eyes.

I lowered the bag to the blanket and rubbed my hands over my face. When I lifted my head, I opened my eyes and blankly stared out over the water. I watched the boats in the distance, Poppy’s words filtering into my mind…

I think they’re leaving it all behind. I think they woke up one day and decided there’s more to life. I think they decided—a couple in love, a boy and a girl—that they wanted to explore the world. They sold their possessions and bought a boat … She loves to play music, and he loves to capture moments on film…

My eyes left the camera bag that I knew so well. I understood where she got her theory about the boats.

He loves to capture moments on film…

I tried to be angry with her. I gave up taking pictures two years ago; it wasn’t who I was anymore. It was no longer my dream. NYU wasn’t in my plans. I didn’t want to pick the camera back up. But my fingers began to twitch, and, despite being pissed at myself, I lifted the lid off the case and peered inside.

The old black-and-chrome vintage Canon that I had treasured stared up at me. I felt my face blanch, the blood moving to rush through to my heart, which slammed against my ribs. I had thrown this camera away. I had discarded it and all that it meant.

I had no idea how the hell Poppy had gotten hold of it. I wondered if she’d tracked down another and bought it. I lifted it from the bag and turned it over. There, scratched into the back, was my name. I had scraped it there on my thirteenth birthday, when my mamma and pappa gave me this camera.