My days before Park were like grains of sand passing through an hourglass—they began as seconds, ticking away into suffocating minutes, which then turned into hours. Twenty-four of them would go by before my eyes, just lingering away, making me feel as if fading was the only opportunity I had left to cling to as the roads leading me to a better place turned winding.

I wish the time with Park hadn't slipped through my fingers like sand last night; I hadn't felt like this for so long. Wait. Who am I kidding? I've never felt like that before in my entire life. Real. Seen. Found. Is it bad that I wanted to do a lot more than kiss? It is insane how aroused I was, having him touching my body the way he did, touching his body the way I did.

I'd never laid hands on a man before, yet I knew where I wanted my skin to brush his; I didn't have to think, I only had to do it—touch him, sense him, breathe him. My heart expanding the size of a million galaxies, all stored deep inside me. Last night made sense.

Everything—what we did, the words we said to one another. I had to touch feelings, losing my soul in the process to find it right back in his eyes. At the moment's heat, I would have given myself away to this boy I barely know, but who sees me way better than anyone else around me. Our last kiss, before he dropped me off by my apartment, was enough to make my insides flip—my heart taking a little longer to catch up.

That's how he said goodbye, leaning over me, with an earth-shattering tenderness only to shift and end up biting my bottom lip as he pulled away. I wanted him to stay a little longer, but he insisted he needed to get to his house to take some meds or his mom would freak. I wished I'd asked what those were, but to be honest, after that damn kiss all I had was slightly swollen lips and erratic heartbeats.

***

"Noah? I'm getting the vibe you are a thousand miles away today."

"Is that so?" I answer. I'm reluctant to talk to Elena about Park. I'm not ready.

"Yes, very much so. Now, tell me, how have you been this week?"

"Fine." I want to let this whole session slide, so I can be out there in the street, riding my bike, getting the full burn of the wind hitting my face, making me wake up from a daydream I don't know if I should have. When will I see him again? That's all that matters now. I crave his touch. I'm addicted to his scent. I want more... Everything.

"Noah..." Her nagging cadence has me clenching my jaw.

"Yeah, elaborate. I know." A daydream I don't know if I am worthy of having.

"Well, then." She is waiting. If I know her the way I think I do, she will remain silent for the rest of the session. Her calm breathing making me want to disappear.

"About a week ago, I made out with a boy." There. Satisfied?

She says nothing, instead she leans in and offers me one of her Virginia Slims with an earnest smile. I don't fancy them, but this is the first time she has made me feel acknowledged, so I take one and we both light them up, letting the soft smell wander freely, filling the silence with lazy, spiraling volutes.

"It felt good," I say in a whisper.

"Care to tell me more?" I can't ignore how earnest her gaze is, as it locks with mine.

"I wasn't expecting to want to kiss him so badly, to be honest. I thought I was straight, but then again, labels don't work on me either."

"Are you concerned about feeling like you might like boys too, Noah?" Elena never goes round bushes. I like that about her.

"I don't care much." Bullshit. I am scared shitless. Not because I might be into boys too, but because this boy in particular makes me nervous. He makes me want to touch myself at night while breathing in his hoodie. He creeps in my mind without warning, taking no prisoners.

I suck in a deep breath, taking a long drag along with it so the nicotine can work its magic on my frantic heartbeats. It's been two weeks and I haven't heard from him again. I hoped to run into him while at Pratt, but so far no luck.

Did you forget about me, Park? Just like that? Did you forget our night together? Did you erase all the hours of hugs, moonlight and lips touching skin?When we said goodbye, I was so high on you, I completely forgot to ask when we could meet again. Your hands on my body, your lips crashing against mine just as the ocean waves crashed outside your car... it was so intense that I went blank, staring down the street long after your car had disappeared from the cobblestones.

"You don't seem to say over two words here and there, so I'd say perhaps it worries you a little." Her voice breaks havoc on my reminiscing.

"Okay, Elena, I'm a bit confused about this whole situation, but not because I regret it. Because I want—" I stop mid-sentence.

"What, Noah? What do you want?"

More. "I don't know." I lie.

"I think you do." She won't let me be. She'll dig deeper until I'm bare boned in her chaise. Damn you, Elena.

I want more of him. More of how I feel when he is with me. More of me feeling something other than pain.

"His name is Park, and I want him to..." Shit, why is it so damn difficult to say it out loud? "I want him to care." I exhale—hadn't realized I'd been holding my breath—and put the Slim on my lips, taking another long drag. Looking at the shapes still hanging around me, I spot one that looks like a tiny tear. Have I cried lately?

"Noah, I think that was a courageous thing to share. Thank you." Her eyes are weary. An emotion I can't decode runs across them. I frown, narrowing my eyes, and she notices. We measure one another, and for a fleeting moment, flashes of a childhood nightmare and her soothing words come crashing in. It's impossible, though. Younger me didn't know Elena.

I break eye contact and focus on the clouds parading outside. One of them looks like a surfboard. Park went into the ocean with one. I remember it hovering over my head as I went under before losing consciousness. He probably used it to drag me to safety. That's how he stole me from the waves.

"Will I ever get better, Elena?" Her head pops upwards, her blonde mop swaying under the momentum. I've surprised her, no doubt. Well, I am tired of doing this alone, carrying this heaviness on my shoulders, without even knowing what is causing me to feel this way.

"You are making progress. You've changed somehow, becoming more open to letting me in, allowing me to know more so we can figure out a way to cope first, heal later."

Sounds good to me. "I'm just exhausted, of worrying I might never really breathe."

"You will do a lot more than that, Noah," she says.

"How can you be so sure?" I struggle to let the last words out.

"You are here, aren't you?" Her answer is a balm over my open wounds.

"Did I tell you I got drunk, went into the ocean and began sinking?"

"Yes." She's cautious, and I know it's a way of giving me room to say what comes next.

"Did I mention I think I gave up on myself back there?"

"Did you regret your decision?"

"Yes. I did."

"Still?"

"Now, more than ever."

"Why?"

"Because I'd be missing what I am living now." I'd be missing Park, this daydream I'm not sure I can handle but desperately crave.

"Then we need to let that count as something positive."

"How is wanting to kill yourself positive?"

"It isn't. But then again, you didn't." I look at her, for the first time, because now I'm paying attention—noticing how deep her eyes are, how invested she seems in making me come to terms with my darkness, allowing me to figure out ways to tame this starving void.

Time is up, so I gather my jacket and head out towards the door.

"Noah?" I stop in my tracks and turn to face her.

"Yeah?"

She stands up and walks the distance between us with determination. "He cares. He took you out of that ocean, didn't he?"

"Yes, he did," I whisper.

He cares.

We stare at each other for a second, then the second ends, and she leans over and opens the door for me. "See you next week, Noah."

"Laters, doc."

Once on the street, I get on my motorcycle and drive a couple of blocks. I turn off the engine under a huge oak tree and squeeze my eyes shut. There, in the dark, I allow myself to smile.

Park cares.

***

Fragments, that's what it's all about. Seconds of life that lift you up or sink you into the deepest despair.

Once I open my eyes, the same damn feeling invades every inch of my skin. The same one I've been carrying around for so long now that I'm almost used to its side effects: burning in my chest, difficulty breathing deeply, and an overwhelming desire to break the world into trillions of microparticles.

I have noticed that the sessions with Elena seem to bring it out: it reacts like some kind of caged animal, violent and desperate for food. 

I sigh wearily, running a shaky hand through my breeze-blown hair. Fixing my eyes on the swaying of the branches of some oak trees in front of me, I can't help noticing how sharp everything around me seems, if I move a few centimeters to the left of my Yamaha I'm going to bleed to death. 

Enough, Noah. At least try to shake this heaviness off of you. Stop acting like a frozen idiot on the pavement that people are already giving you weird looks.

I have to get out of here, get on my bike and let life fly by with every kilometer I accelerate. I swing my left leg over the leather seat and then it happens: my cell phone vibrates in the back pocket of my black jeans. With my heart pounding in my ears, I pull it out in less than a second, but my heart sinks to see that it's not Park who sent me a message. It's Savy who wants to see me.

It's hard to swallow disappointment, however, at the same time I'm a little happy that my older sister is interested in knowing how I'm doing.

Savvy: Hey, Nono. Wanna grab some coffee? Miss u <3

Noah: Sure thing, sis. Meet at The Spot in 15'?

Savvy: Yas! Ps. Not carrying any spare towels, just so u know.

Noah: No towel. Darn it. Copy that.

***

Driving clears my head, and I crave a nice cup of coffee and someone I trust by my side. As I step inside The Spot, Savvy is already grinning at me, her blonde hair all tied up in a high ponytail waving alongside. She is gorgeous in and out, and I must admit I'd draw blood for her if needed.

"How was the session?" She tries hard to conceal the worry in her gaze.

What I love about my sister is that she takes no bullshit from anyone, going straight to the point and asking what she deems important.

"Tiring." I give her a tight hug and she reciprocates with her usual warmth.

"She's giving you hell, huh?"

"Doc makes me aware of the one too many fuck-ups I've made, or how many broken parts of me need mending."

"Nono, you are not broken, don't say that."

"Sav—I gave up in that ocean. Why? No clue." She gasps and I regret being so blunt.

"That's why you need Elena. She can help you figure out the reason and how to avoid getting caught up in a situation like that ever again." I love her for emphasizing her last words.

I stare at my sister and realise how much I've hurt her by being so damn messed up. "I'll try harder, I promise."

She smiles softly, taking a sip of her cappuccino and when she is done her eyes find mine as she says, "You don't need to do anything other than just be my brother, the one I love and worship. Now, tell me something new, you look kind of different, I don't know how to put it, but you do."

"Your powers of perception know no bounds. Are you sure you are not a witch in disguise?"

"Flattering me won't let you off the hook here, mister. Spill. I was fishing, but now I've found bait.

"I've met someone." My smirk brings chuckles on her behalf.

"Holy shit." Her hands dart upwards to cover her gaping mouth.

Savvy—you crack me up. "Tell me about it." I snort.

"When did this happen?" Her expression is priceless.

"While I was drowning."

"Nono—"

"Wait. Let me finish. Remember how soaked I was and wearing a black hoodie, the day you came for me?"

"Towel day." She scoffs, arching a brow, and I grin at her cheeky demeanor.

"Yeah, yeah. Towel day." I linger, creating tension, stirring the coffee with such concentration it looks as if my life depended on it. She falls right in the trap.

"Noah Riley, will you cut to the chase already?" She's nervous, her nails tapping on the white porcelain cup.

"Well, that hoodie belongs to the person who rescued me, and who also goes to Pratt."

"What? For real?"

"Yup." I don't know why, but talking to Savvy about Park lifts the clouds and stops the intermittent deluge I'm living under—at least for a while.

"Noah... That is kind of amazing and taken out of a movie." She is beaming at me, but then something else sparks in her eyes. "Also, now that I think of it... the hoodie you wore that day was a male one."

I smile fondly because what I see in her face is not discrimination or judgment, but the opposite. "That is correct," I say, grinning in mischief.

"I can't tell you how long I've been waiting to see you like this, Nono."

"Like what?" The sun is setting behind her back, I see it from the window overlooking the street. It's a lazy, pink sunset and it's perfect. Just like this moment we are sharing.

"Awake." Her one word cuddles me like nothing else could.

I let out a small gasp, and she just grabs my hand, giving it a soft squeeze. We both finish our coffee, relishing in the last afternoon light, talking nonsense and laughing carelessly. Time washes away, and she never lets go of my hand. Not once.