Golden by Jessi Kirby Page B

of the water, where he waded back out onto the beach.
    â€œDamn, that was colder than I expected.”
    â€œIt’s melted snow.” I pointed to the white patches still tucked into the shady crags of the mountains above us. “You probably just shocked your whole nervous system.”
    â€œMaybe.” He shrugged, then shivered. “Sometimes a shock to the system is a good thing, you know? Like a reminder that you’re alive.” He sat on the log next to me, dripping ice cold water, bare skin covered with goose bumps, and the biggest smile on his face.
    I looked out at the surface of the lake where the sunlight broke into tiny diamonds and spread out sparkling across it. “And that you have one wild and precious life.”
    He turned to me, and we were so close I could almost smell the sun and the lake on his skin. “That’s deep of you.”
    â€œYou should talk.” I shoved him off the log, hoping he didn’t notice the sudden embarrassment in my voice. “It’s from a poem I read in English.”
    â€œAnd what’s the rest say?”
    â€œI don’t know the rest. Just the one line I liked. ‘Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life.’ ”
    â€œSo.” He smiled through chattering teeth. “What do you plan to do with yours, Julianna Farnetti?”
    â€œIn a perfect world?”
    â€œYeah. If you could do anything you wanted. Without worrying about what people expect of you or have planned out or anything else. What would you do with your life?” His eyes rested on mine, waiting, and it made me feel vulnerable in a way, like maybe he knew about feeling restless or understood about wanting something more. Somewhere in the trees behind us, a twig snapped. A tiny ripple splashed against the shore. And the wall I’d spent so many years building crumbled.
    â€œI’d make art,” I said. “Paintings, that would make people feel something when they looked at them.” I paused, surprised at how easy it was to tell him what I always keep so close around everyone else. And then the rest came tumbling out before I could stop it. “And I’d leave here and travel, like we talked about. I’d watch the sun rise over different mountains and set into crystal oceans. And—” I caught myself before I could say the next thing I’d thought of. That I would have met him sooner. Or in a different situation, when there could have been a chance for something.
    â€œAnd what?” he asked.
    â€œAnd . . . I’d have no regrets,” I answered. “Which is why I need to do this.” I gave the water one more glance and made up my mind.
    Then before I could change it, I stood, peeled off my tank top and shorts, and took a running start. The second my fingertips touched the surface, sparks of ice lit my body up and stole my breath away, but I forced myself to go under. To feel the electricity there before I came up, laughing and gasping for air.
    And when I broke through the surface, I could almost swear I came up as someone new.
    Orion jumped in again with me, and we swam for as long as we could stand the cold, legs brushing and hearts pounding and teeth chattering.
    I’ve always thought I’m most myself when I’m with Shane, but today with Orion I was most like who I want to be. I was someone different and bold and honest. Not embarrassed or unsure about anything. Not even the feel of his eyes taking in the lines of my body, or the quiet shush of pencil moving over paper as he drew me there on the beach, drying in the afternoon sun.

    I stop at the doodle at the bottom of the page. Orion’s tattoo. She went home and drew it in her journal, like a memento from the day. I’m about to go back and reread what he said it meant when the high-pitched monotone of the bell rings out above my head. I jump at the sound of it, and it takes me a good few