We were black and white as we came together. Drained of pretense and frivolity. Devoid of expectations. No shades of gray. No peacock colors covering secrets or lies. We were truth. We were love. East and west, coming together in a blinding, earthshattering moment of molten heat at the core of the world, at the center of the universe that exploded in brilliance brighter than the sun.

  We were everything we had been denied.

  We were everything we were always meant to be.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Jenna

  My dress weighed nine pounds.

  I weighed it.

  “It’s beautiful, Jenna,” Mom whispered, her eyes filling again with tears.

  Laney rolled her own eyes at her. “Seriously, if you ruin your makeup for a third time I’m not fixing it again. You can be in pictures with raccoon eyes and I’ll tell Dad not to pay to have it Photoshopped out.”

  Mom scowled at Laney and went the mirror, checking to make sure she hadn’t done any damage yet. She was mad but she wasn’t crying.

  Thank you, I mouthed inaudibly to Laney.

  You’re welcome, she mimed with a wink.

  I took a breath and turned back to the mirror that hung inside my closet. Kellen’s clothes hung inside next to mine, our worlds already meshed together, but this was different. Today was something else entirely. It was a dream and an illusion, a ceremony and piece of paper that would prove to the world what I already knew in my heart – we were eternal. And still I wanted it. Still I was nervous.

  I smoothed my hands over the rough lace of my dress, my fingertips bumping over the flowers and vines stitched in white down to my feet – my bare feet. The skirt hung long and straight down my body, nothing underneath but a thin layer of satin and my skin. Nothing covering my tattoos but the air.

  The dress’s design was vintage and flowing but the cut was anything but modest. It flaunted my ink, the colors bursting against the cream color of the material, decorating me like diamonds, exposed by my hair piled high and loose on my head, tendrils escaping in dark waves down my back to flirt with the designs there.

  “You really do look beautiful,” Laney said softly from behind me.

  Our eyes met in the mirror and I smiled at her, relieved when she smiled back. “Thank you, Lane.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I wanted to ask her how she was doing. If she was okay. If she was going to shout out an objection during the ceremony, but I held my tongue. We had all agreed that we’d have to wait and see on this one. We’d wait and we’d pray she was exactly what she said she was – over it.

  I was in the camp that believed she really and truly was. Something had changed in her after the miscarriage. She was the same person but with different priorities, and reminding Kellen and I of the injustice of our love was not her biggest concern anymore. She’d experience real loss, and the dream of Kellen paled in comparison. He was a ghost to her. The mere memory of something burned to ash in the scorched earth of her heart.

  There was a knock at the bedroom door. Mom hurried to answer it, only opening it a crack.

  “No,” she said immediately. “It’s bad luck.”

  “Mom, let him in,” I laughed.

  She didn’t budge. “Kellen, no. Do not jinx this.”

  “We’re already dancing with the devil with your ex-girlfriend here, don’t you think?” Laney called to him. “Why push your luck?”

  I heard Kellen sigh. “Jenna?”

  I smiled. “Yeah?”

  “I’m not allowed to see you, apparently.”

  “It’s tradition. Can’t fight tradition.”

  “I could try.”

  “You’d lose.”

  “Can I give you something?”

  “I don’t know. You’ll have to ask my contingent.”

  “Karen,” Kellen said in that deep and very persuasive manner that he had, “can I please give something to Jenna?”

  “Give it to me and I’ll give it to her,” she told him, holding out her hand.

  “No.”

  “Then no, you may not.”

  “Jenna?”

  “Oh for fuck’s sake,” Laney grumbled. She took my hand, shoved our mom away from the door, and pushed me up against it. The hand she was holding she produced to the crack, opening it for Kellen to see, but that was all he could see of me. “There. Make it quick. We all have lives to lead here.”

  “This is fun,” Kellen mumbled sarcastically.

  I shrugged. “I’m smiling. Aren’t you smiling, Kellen?”

  “No. But I will be.” His hand appeared, large and sun browned, holding a stark white square envelope that he pressed against my palm. “I need you to read this. I need to understand why.”

  “Why what?”

  “Why I failed you and why I’m sorry.”

  My heart leapt in my throat. “Kellen, what are you—“

  “Just read it. Please. Read it. It’s everything I don’t know how to say but I want you to understand. I need you to understand, Jenna. I owe you that and so much more. So many things I can’t manage.”

  I bit my lips hard, the blood draining beneath my dark red lipstick. I felt like I was falling. Like the world was tilting and spinning out. I felt like I’d be sick.

  “I’ll read it,” I whispered.

  He sighed with relief. “Good. That’s good. Thank you.”

  His hand disappeared, the door pulling closed behind him. His footsteps retreated down the hall. I waited for the sound of the door closing behind him. For the roar of his truck starting and fading into the distance.

  It never came.

  I tore open the envelope with shaking fingers and found two small sheets of paper folded neatly together. Kellen’s precise handwriting sprawled across the pages, covering them almost entirely.

  Nonpareil,

  I’m not good at feelings. At having them, understanding them, and especially at voicing them. Today as we get ready to say our vows to each other in front of friends and family I realize I’m not equipped for this. Not out loud. Not in public. Not like I’m expected to be.

  I considered writing my own vows. I wanted to do something for you, something that was beyond my bounds. I wanted to show you I was ready and that you didn’t need to worry. Ten minutes ago I realized I couldn’t do it. I tried and I wanted it, but I don’t have it in me and for that I’m sorry. I know you’re shaking your head right now and telling me in your mind that I have nothing to be sorry for, but I am, I’m sorry, and I’m telling you how I feel. That’s a victory. Please take it as one.

  When we stand in front of the minister I’ve asked him to keep it short. To simply ask us to say our ‘I Do’s’ and have that be that. It’s not much, it’s not what you deserve, but it’s what I can manage in public.

  But in private, Jenna, I’ll give you everything. On pen and on paper I can spill my heart’s blood for you to read and remember forever because these words are eternal, my feelings for you are eternal.

  And these are my words, my feelings. All of the things I can’t say in front of the world out under the sky I’ll tell you here, now, from my heart to yours under the gaze of God.

  This is me marrying you.

  You’re starlight. You’re the cold glow of the moon. Sunshine and brown earth, green grass. Ice and fire, water and wind. You’re in everything I see, hear, smell, taste, and you’re everything I want to feel.

  You’re my why. My how. My reason and my strength.

  You’re my love.

  You’re my wife.

  Ma nord.

  Your faithful husband yesterday, today, and tomorrow,

  Kellen

  “What is it?” Mom asked anxiously. “What does it say? Is everything alright?”

  I wiped the tears from my cheeks, gently folding the letter. “Everything is… is exactly the way it should be,” I smiled. “It’s perfect.”

  I turned the letter gingerly in my hand, tucking it into the front of my dress where it pressed against my chest. Against my heart. Where his words seeped into my skin, through my bones, and I felt him in my blood because we were already wed. I’d married him yesterday and the day before. The week before. Months and years ago when I’d been a doe-eyed girl sitting down in front of a dark-eyed boy. Before I’d known what love was. Before I’d understood pain and heartache. Before I’d felt true fear and knew what it really was to be safe, I’d consigned my heart to his.

  We were tied to each other irrevocably, pulled together like currents in the sea. Like the tide to the moon.

  As the stars in the sky.

  THE END

  Thank you for reading Ringside!

  I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, please leave a review.

  They are invaluable to indie authors such as myself.

  Keep reading for an excerpt from my NA Romance, Lawless

  Chapter One

  My skin feels tight. It’s sticky from the dried salt water of the sea, burning from the heat of the afternoon sun that touches on every inch of bare skin it can find. My swimsuit will smell like the ocean for days. I won’t wash it. I’ll take it with me to Boston and I’ll let it smell like California. I’ll let it remind me of today. Of my last day.

  “They’re setting up a bonfire,” Katy comments.

  I roll my head to the side, squinting one eye open to see the group of six guys gathering firewood down the beach. It’s the surfer crowd. The ones who get here at dawn and don’t leave until well after dark. They live here because they live for the ocean. For the waves and the crash and the ride. Their bodies are toned from the sport, browned by the sun, their hair bleached out with natural highlights that most of the girls out here would pay a fortune in the salon for. There’s a handful of them, all hot and smiling, but one stands out. One always stands out, no matter where he goes.

  “Do you wanna stay?”

  I close my eye and point my face up to the fading sun. “I don’t know,” I mumble to Katy.

  “Do you still need to pack?”

  “I’ve been packed for over a week.”

  “That eager to leave, huh?” she chuckles, but she doesn’t think it’s funny.

  Neither do I.

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  I’ve lived my entire life in Southern California. I was born and raised in the small coastal town of Isla Azul parked about an hour up the shoreline from Malibu. Katy and I have lived next door to each other since we were born. I’ve been going to college at Santa Barbara twenty minutes to the north, and when I graduated high school I went with Katy and three other girls to Mexico to celebrate. It was the farthest from home I’ve ever been.

  That will change tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll get on a plane that will take me over halfway across the country to Boston, Massachusetts where I’ll study music at the New England Conservatory. It’s a huge deal. It made the front page of Isla Azul’s tiny little paper. My dad framed it and hung it on the wall so we could see it every day. So I could be reminded of where I was going.

  Of the ticking clock running out on the life I’ve always known.

  “We should stay then,” Katy tells me decidedly. She lays back down on her towel next me, fanning her long brown hair out above her head. “We’ll soak up the last of the sun. Send your butt to Boston looking tan and hot. Give those pasty white east coast girls something to be jealous of. Show ‘em what a real true California blond looks like.”

  I smile, but I don’t respond. I close my eyes, listen to the sound of the waves, embrace the burn of the sun, and I reach out my hand until it brushes against hers. Until she lifts her pinky, wraps it around mine, and I lock them together tightly.

  It’s another ten minutes before I can’t take the heat anymore. The sun is going down but the summer is just getting started, just heating up, and that warmth is embedded in my skin. It’s getting dark but there’s enough light for one last swim. One last kiss of the crisp ocean cool before I say goodbye to it for an entire year.

  Katy stays on shore, opting to go mingle with the surfers and scope out who’s here. I know who she’s looking for. They do too, and even though she’s not going to find him or get any information about him, they welcome her with open arms. As I walk down to the water I see Baker hug her firmly, draping his arm over her shoulder while holding a beer loosely by the neck in his other hand. The other guys offer her a beer, nod in greeting, but I frown when I realize someone is missing. Just as much as Lawson Daniel’s presence stands out, his absence does as well.

  It shouldn’t surprise me to find him out in the water. He’s nothing but a dot on the darkening horizon, bobbing on his board with his legs dangling in the water, but I know what he looks like. Every girl in a hundred mile radius knows what Lawson looks like.

  Sex and sun.

  Golden brown hair and sea green eyes.

  Sly smiles and broken hearts.

  I’ve known him as long as I’ve known Katy and I’m more proud of the fact that I’ve never tangled with him than the fact that I got into the NEC. I’m in the minority in both respects. Exceptional. Smart. Skilled.

  Alone.

  There’s no one else in the surf when I step inside the waves. The white foam curls up frothing and eager over my feet, and I sigh as my body instantly starts to cool from the touch. Everyone else has gone up to the shore to find beer and food and other bodies. Everyone but Lawson and me. As I wade into the water I watch him sit patiently, waiting for the next big wave. The last one of the night. But unlike me, I know he’ll do this again tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that. He and that board are as constant as the tide, as sure as the sun, and I envy him that. I wish more than anything I could have one more day. One last summer.

  When I’m in far enough I dive down. I face a wave head on and I slip expertly beneath it, kicking hard to go farther and deeper. My skin aches with a burn I won’t see until the morning when I’m getting ready to get on the plane. My flight will leave LAX before dawn and I bite down hard on a sob that tries to escape my throat as I realize I’ve seen the last of the California sun for an entire year. I won’t come back at Christmas or Thanksgiving. My family can’t afford it. Once I’m in Boston I’ll be locked in. No room for doubts or reservations. No retreat.

  I kick toward the surface, my lungs screaming for air, but once I give them what they want I go under again. Then again. It’s not until I come up that third time that I realize I’ve gone farther out than I planned.

  A wave crashes into my face, sending me down again, but I don’t panic. I’ve been swimming this ocean since I was a toddler. I can handle it. I can take a wave to the face or a long swim back to shore. The key is to stay calm.

  When I break the surface again I’m in the clear. The water is calm around me and I watch as the wave curls back toward the beach, lazily furling forward. I glance around, wondering if Lawson is still out here or if he took the wave. I’m surprised to find him paddling furiously toward me.

  “Rachel!” he shouts, his voice barely audible over the distance between us. Over the rush of the wind and water. “Swim toward me!”

  I frown. “What?!”

  “Swim toward me! Now! Go!”

  I shake my head, completely confused.

  Lawson has spoken to me all of four times in my life. Once in elementary school to tell me I had a booger hanging out of my nose, once in middle school to say I looked good with boobs, once in high school to tell me he door dinged my car, and now out in the open ocean he’s screaming at me to swim to him. His handsome face is pinched with anxiety and exertion as his arms dig hard into the water, propelling his body laid flat on his surfboard.

  “What are you talking—“

  Something brushes my leg roughly. I spin around, looking at the water to see what it was, but it’s getting too dark. The glare of the setting sun is blinding me, making the surface like a mirror I can’t look beyond. My heart races in my chest but I will it to calm.

  It’s probably one of his stupid friends, I tell myself. They’re probably playing a prank to scare you.

  Another touch. This time it hurts, like sandpaper dragging across my sensitive skin.

  “Rachel!” Katy cries faintly from the shore.

  I look back to find her standing knee deep in the water. Baker is holding onto her, holding her back from coming any farther in, and the look of sheer panic on her face tells me instantly that this is no prank. This is real.

  I’m in trouble.

  I turn toward Lawson and start swimming as hard as I can. I dig deep, pull hard, but he’s so far. I wonder if I shouldn’t have gone for the shore instead. It’s too late now, though. All I can do is swim as fast as I can, hope he’s doing the same, and maybe I can make it up onto his board with him before—

  I go under. Something takes hold of my leg and yanks me down. The horizon disappears from my view in one sharp snap that brings my world to cool darkness.

  Just as quickly as it takes hold of me it lets me go. I scream under the water, bubbles bursting from my mouth up over my face and into my hair as I struggle to get to the surface. I’m kicking hard and suddenly I ache in my right leg as my vision goes white around the edges.

  My hands find air, leaving the water, but then I’m going under again. I’m going down and it’s colder and darker than before, and even though my blood is screaming through my veins and in my ears, it’s eerily silent.

  Something takes hold of me under my arms. It pulls me in tight, pinning me to a mass behind me and I thrash and fight until I realize it’s an arm. My hands find the hard corded muscle of a forearm across my breasts and I hold onto it tightly, desperately, as it pulls me upward. We find the surface and I gasp for air, pulling in water and oxygen and hope in big, heaving gasps that make my lungs ache in my chest.

  My vision comes back to me in strange shades. The light is too bright, the shadows too dark. Everything is washed out and somehow too vivid at the same time. The sky is blood red, the water pitch black. The white surfboard phosphorescent bone.