We sit on the riverbank with our feet in the cold water. We’ll probably both end up sick, but apparently we don’t care.

“I HOPE THIS water is clean! I’m so thirsty!”

I laugh at Sage as I cup my hands down into the mucky creek water and take a drink. “It’s funny you didn’t ask that question before drinking toilet water six days ago.”

“I was desperate, and at least it was clear. This is muddy and has fish shit and piss in it.” She takes a drink as she scrunches her nose.

I burst out laughing. “And people shit and piss in a toilet!”

She laughs. “True.”

We both strip down to wash ourselves in the creek. After we get as clean as we’re going to get, we get dressed. I sit down in the grass and ring out my hair.

“SHE HAD MONEY the whole time,” I mumble as I slip back into reality.

“What are you talking about?”

“Sage. We took baths in creeks; we slept in the most insane places… We were hungry. Starving.” I look at Plath.

“What’d you expect her to do? She couldn’t just blurt out that she had accounts set up all over the world. She had to be believable, Orion.”

I take my feet out of the cool water and pull my knees to my chest.

“Her betrayal hurts the worst.”

“I’m sure it does.”

I watch Plath’s expression go from worried, to sort of content, to worried again. I furrow my eyebrows.

“What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing major. Just thinking.”

“Tell me.”

He looks at me intently. “Are you okay?”

I laugh coldly. “That’s a dumb question.”

“When you’re with me, does the pain and fear go away for even a second?”

I blink a few times as I stare at him.

“No,” I answer honestly.

“Do you love me, Orion? Truth or not?”

I look away from him. I do love him, but admitting I love him out loud scares me. Being an open book with Plath Emerson is dangerous. I trust him, but then again I don’t. My heart speaks before my common sense can stop me.

“Yes,” I admit. My hands begin to shake so I clench them into tight fists so he won’t notice.

His eyes begin to water, and I don’t know if it’s tears or the cool wind irritating them. “Is that not enough for you?”

I close my eyes and sigh heavily. “What do you mean?”

“Enough to numb the fear and pain you feel. Not even for a second?”

I open my eyes and look at him. “No. Hollywood paints a bullshit picture when it comes to love. Love doesn’t fix everything, and you out of all people should know that. How can love fix anything when everything is bigger than us? Our love isn’t some supernatural power that can end this strange war.”

I used to get so pissed watching movies. Hollywood portrays this image that when you love someone, nothing else matters, and it fixes it all. A bold-faced lie.

“I guess I just hoped I would be the one to make you free.” He looks disappointed although he understands.

“You can make me free.” I wipe tears as they begin to fall.

He wipes them away with his thumb and kisses me softly. “I’m too selfish. I won’t lose you.”

“What if I told you that you already have?”

“I would call you a liar.”

And he’s right. As long as I’m breathing, what’s left of me is his. He concentrates on my eyes, and I need to look away, but I don’t. Loving him as much as I do intimidates me. The chance of him hurting me again, the chance of this all being a huge game, is very likely. But if a game is what this is, I will willingly be played, and for admitting that, I know without a doubt, I have truly lost my mind and have become the girl I swore I wouldn’t.