-Years Before-

Liam wouldn't stop talking. Normally, he spared me. He knew I hated it. Lately, though, he was all over the place. He clung to me more than usual. He told me about things I didn't care about. He got emotional during sex. It was driving me insane.

"But we could get out of the city for a while, also. It might be nice to just drive to random beaches. We don't have to stay at your parents' place, you know?" he said. He took a sip of his ice tea.

I stared at him blankly. The heat was beating down on us. We'd stopped at a café to briefly escape it before heading back to the car, having come directly from the beach.

"Are you done now?" I asked him.

He looked sad. "Why are you being so weird?"

"Why are you?" I asked.

"I'm not." He looked away from me. His hair stirred in the wind, briefly flying into his face. "Let's just go back."

I stood, my chair screeching, and left some money on our table. Liam followed behind me, dejected. "Stop pouting. I thought you had fun," I said, glancing back at him.

Liam sighed. He smiled, but it didn't quite reach its full potential. "I did have fun. I guess I'm just tired."

We stood in silence at the crosswalk, waiting for traffic to stop. When it finally did, he started walking immediately. I sauntered after him, unwilling to speed up to satisfy the strange neediness he was suddenly embracing.

I heard a shout, jerking my attention from Liam's tense shoulders to the street. A woman had started into the road adjacent to ours. She was looking down at her feet, not paying attention to the changing lights.

Without thinking, I sprinted into the road. I don't know what compelled me to do it. Maybe it was Liam's new desire for me. It made me uncomfortable, reminded me that I didn't feel anything for him. For anyone. Maybe for anything, anymore.

I wasn't worried about myself when I ran in front of the truck. I didn't particularly care about myself.

And yet I lived, dragging the woman to safety seconds before the truck would've crushed her. My heart pounded in my chest as I realized that I was still intact. I was sprawled on the sidewalk, breathing hard. Energy buzzed through my muscles.

"OH my GOD!" The woman shouted. She was shaking. Her voice was raspy, but even in her panic, it was strangely gentle. "I could've died!"

I stared at her, shocked. She whirled to look at me, her eyes wide. They were a lovely brown. I could tell she was older by the slight wrinkles at their corners, but her ebony skin was otherwise smooth and her hair, which was tight against her head in a woven bun, had no grey in it; I had no way of guessing her age.

"Holy shit, Ren. Did you really just do that?" Liam was bounding up to join us, offering a hand to pull me up.

I took it and nodded. "I guess." I turned to the woman, giving her my hand. "Are you alright?"

She moved her arm to accept my help but winced immediately. "I'm A-ok. Thank you so much, young man. How valiant!"

"You're not ok. Your arm's hurt," I said, kneeling beside her. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize! If it weren't for you, I'm sure I'd be worse off," she said, smiling. I couldn't figure out exactly what it was about her that made me comfortable.

I stared at her for a moment before leaning forward. "Excuse me," I said, wrapping my arm around her to lift her without disturbing her injury. "We should get you to the hospital."

"What?" Liam demanded. "Are you serious?"

"We're not just going to leave her here."

"Oh, I'll be just fine. I can make it there myself," she interjected.

"No. I want to help you," I said, offering her a smile. It felt clumsy on my face, and I realized suddenly that I couldn't remember the last time I genuinely smiled.

"Well, if you insist," she said. I felt warm all over, drawn in by the soft undertone of her personality. "Shall we call a cab?"

"No, we've got a car," I said, slowly leading her towards where we'd parked that morning.

"You're serious about this?" Liam asked, walking beside me. He had an unusual anxiety about him.

"Of course, I am," I said, shooting him a distasteful side-eye.

"It's just, you're not usually one to care about other people like this," Liam said quietly.

If I weren't a liar, I'd have admitted he was right. But I didn't feel like questioning my actions. I just wanted to do what felt good. "It's fine," I said to her. "We don't have anywhere to be."

"Are you sure? Your friend doesn't seem to agree," she said, nodding in his direction.

"Ignore him," I said. "He's just being dramatic."

The car ride to the hospital was filled with small talk. Why are you in Florida? Are you enjoying your vacation? What did you study in school? The whole nine yards. I was grateful to arrive at the hospital, comfortable with helping this woman but not comfortable enough to reveal my life's story to her.

"Hello, how can I help you?"

"Hi there! I need to see a doctor. It seems I've snapped my arm near in two," she said, her tone light.

"Oh, no! We'll get you checked in right away, but you may have to wait a couple minutes. What's your name?"

"Vanessa Bryant," she said, still smiling. Always smiling softly. My own mother rarely smiled like that. It made me think of her, made me miss her despite how I resented her.

I stuck around the hospital longer than I needed to, escorting her all the way to the examination room, waiting for her x-ray, watching her bone be set. I didn't want to leave. Liam grumbled the whole time, asking me again and again why I couldn't leave her. Driving her was one thing, he said, but staying with her?

I didn't have an answer for him, so I made him feel like shit for not being more generous and left it at that. He escaped the room soon after to cool off, clearly mad at me for being an ass. And maybe I was. Maybe I had been for a long time, but I didn't care. It was sturdy armor.

"I truly am grateful, Ren," she said. "I'm so happy our paths crossed. I might well be a goner without you."

"No need to dwell on that now. You'll be just fine," I said, smiling again at her. She really just drew it out of me.

"Yes, well, clean break, and all. Could've been worse, though I thought I was sturdier than this," she said. She looked down for a moment, her expression darkening for the first time since we'd met. "My son is going to be so worried."

"You should call him," I said. "I'm sure he'd want to know."

I watched her speak to him with dark green envy slinking through my veins. Whoever, wherever her kid was, he was more loved than I was or ever had been. When she hung up, I sighed. "I better go," I said quietly.

"Oh, of course. Go ahead. Your boyfriend is probably upset that I've stolen all your attention," she said.

My eyes widened. "He's not..."

It was eerie how she looked at me like she knew everything. Like I was a naive, transparent child. "I'm sure you feel that way, but it didn't seem like he did. Best to apologize anyway, I think." She sighed. "But it's none of my business."

"How did you even know?"

"I have a sense of these things," she replied. "I knew my son was gay years before he even did. Guess I'm psychic." She winked.

"Your son's lucky," I said, and meant it.

"He's a good kid. A gentle kid." She stared at me for a long moment. "I think you'd like him."

"Why's that?" I asked, playing along.

"You're the gentle type, too," she said. The words struck me, made my blood stand still. They hung in the air between us for a long time.

I swallowed, a bit alarmed. "I better go," I said again.

"I won't keep you," she said, watching me closely. "Thank you again, Ren. You really saved me today. I hope there are only happy days in your future."

I wanted to tell her the truth. I hadn't had a happy day in a long time. Not really. It felt like if I told her, she might be able to impart some transcendent wisdom on me. She might say something to make me feel better, with her warm eyes and crackly, gentle voice.

But I didn't say anything about it. All I said was, "You, too. Bye, uh—" I couldn't remember her name and couldn't find it in me to ask. "Goodbye."

As I left the room, off to try to find Liam, I felt distinctly unmoored. Something in me kept tugging me back to her, whispering at me to turn around. Turn away from the burning distraction of Liam's bed. Turn away from darkness to step back into her sunshine and ask her how to be happy, how to be.

Maybe I could ask her son what it was like to have parents that cared about him. That loved him unconditionally, wholeheartedly, warmly, and forever.

But I kept walking, largely unaware of just what it was that I was walking away from. That day, a tingling lit up the outer edges of my mind. In me was born a tiny, near invisible desire to do and to be better.