I don’t know how to sit next to Kurt and be still. He’s been sitting next to me staring at the lake for what feels like an eternity—saying nothing.
His clothes cling to him from our swim and I can see his skin through the soaked cotton. I don’t know what he’s waiting for. The air to dry him? For me to say something?
I shiver, but he doesn’t react.
I wait, but only the stars fill the quiet.
I should get up and leave. I want to.
He’s the one who gets up and walks back to the lake house. He’s the one who motions for me to follow.
And I do.