| Chapter Twenty-One: You’re In The Air |

Give me a minute now to figure out my state...

Malia plunged into the blackness, and took off. Brian saw her move for the door, but once she allowed the blackness to surround her she was nothing but a dream again.

Brian rolled a glass in between the palms of his hands. No, he couldn't understand - wasn't that asking too much? He loved her, yes. They were bound to each other. Their love was something that was unfailing, and it was something that would not leave, no matter how many times they tried to shed it.

So they were stuck together. He could deal with that. No one said they had to hold each other under the stars, no one said they had to lie close together, not together physically, but emotionally. Fine. He could deal with that. Half his mind screamed that he would be fine. The other half lay quiet, knowing what was coming. That's why he didn't flinch when he dropped the glass on the hard tabletop, watching it shatter. And that is why he did not flinch when he picked the largest piece up, touching the tapered tip of the glass. And when he rolled his shirt up, and scraped a bit of flesh from his side, he didn't mind.

It was just a long, long time coming, that was all.

* * * * *

I landed on my feet, falling…

Malia felt one foot hit the sand as she jumped off the lowest step of Brian's deck. Her ankle gave way beneath her, with a satisfying grinding sound. She shook it off and started running, knowing no matter how fast or how long she ran, she still wasn't going to be able to leave all her problems behind. At least she now had a head start.

Panting, she allowed the night to wrap its arms around her. A thousand stars hung low in the sky, and she contemplated reaching for them. It was amazing to think that just a few hours ago she had been with someone in the same spot, doing the same thing.

She plummeted into the sand, splaying her arms around; trying to find a physical release for the emotion she was feeling. One half of her wanted to run back to Brian and hit him over and over again, until he felt as bad as she did. But what good was that? He would hurt, she would hurt, and then she would be slapped with an assault case.

Happiness was an illusion; a dream to chase. Nothing tangible is worth having, she decided. Love doesn’t make the world go round. And you can’t hold on to it. What happens when it’s over? You’re back where you started from Malia, that’s what. You have nothing but a five-letter name, a lot of heartache, and a river to fill with your tears.

Go home Malia. Do not pass Brian; do not steal two hundred dollars.

Go home, Malia. Go home.

But home is Brian.

* * * * *

Brian lay sweltering underneath a sheet that night. The entire house was on fire, or at least that’s what the temperature led one to believe. He half-wondered if Malia had set the building in flames to spite him.

The sheet wound its way around his body, clinging to his legs. He threw it off and made for the window. The stars were gone now; a sweep of clouds had come in. The whole night seemed to swallow him up; dark and dismal.

From out of one side, he saw ghost-like shape emerge. It looked like Malia was done playing around. As she came closer he could make out details: the silver necklace she always wore, the fact that she was caring her shoes, and the realization that she hadn’t been crying.

What they had wasn’t even worth crying over? Good. Then he no longer needed to feel guilty and ashamed. The minutes ticked by, and she came to plod up the porch steps, and then tiptoe across the deck until she was finally standing right under his window. They locked eyes, and stood silent, the battle lines drawn.

Brian breathed in the air, heady with the scent of something still unknown, and went back to staring at the sky.

I lift my gaze to empty skies above
I close my eyes, the rare perfume
Is the sweet intoxication of her love…

* * * * *

Brian stumbled down the short stack of stairs the next morning, scratching at a place in his back that was just too low for him to reach. He found Malia sprawled over the right arm of the couch, sleeping. Her eyes were staring off into space, and as Brian walked through his morning routine, they grew quite unnerving.

Yes, I heard all that you had to say
That’s when it all fell apart…

For some reason, he found himself talking to her ‘corpse.’ “Malia … you’re killing me, you know that?” He ran his hand through his hair. “But I just can’t … I can’t be everything to everyone. It’s you or the fans; you or the world.

“I love you so much. It hurts sometimes. I don’t want to think of someone I care about suffering.” He shuffled his feet over to the couch, and settled on his haunches so he was looking up at her. “I want to be with you … but not like this. Maybe someday. Maybe a better time, you know? This isn’t right now.

“We can’t just keep holding each other back. It’s just not … it’s not going to work, Malia. I respect you as a person, but as a lover …” his voice trailed off into oblivion. “God, why do things have to be so complicated?” he added under his breath.

“Look. I like you. You’re a fun person. You’re neat. We both get more shit than we deserve. But running from it doesn’t make it better. I'm not a strong person. I'm not your hero. You need a hero Malia, and I'm not it.

“I'm not going to stay here and fight the same old losing fight. We’ve lost.”

“You say we lost, but maybe we just gave up…”

* * * * *

Malia sat on the floor of the upstairs bedroom Brian had loaned her. It was located just past the stairs, and she’d purposely left her door wide open. Now, three hours later, she was showered, dressed, and simply sitting there. Brian couldn’t get in or out of the house without passing by, and she was planning on waiting until that moment came. Keeping one eye on “The Finishing School” and one eye on the hall corridor, she commenced waiting.

Groaning, she spun the hardcover book two feet across the carpet. She was scared to death of meeting Brian, but at the same time, she knew she couldn’t move, couldn’t be sane, until he came.

All she needed was for him to believe in her. Just to believe in her. She thought acting positive (“You say we lost, but maybe we just gave up…”) would help. Anything to get him to listen, to pay her mind. To make him remember what once was, and what still could be. She was beginning to think that she would gladly to trade in her soul just to have him near again.

She missed every little thing about him. The way he could just look at her and make it better. The way his eyes filled with tranquility. He’d always been so much older - it was so easy for her to get lost. Everything was new, everything was fun. She’d lived through him, and he her. It had been so easy that way.

Tears filled up in her eyes. I'm just the rebound girl, she thought. The plaything. And now he’s ready for someone stronger.

Because no one wants a chick with problems, much less problems society won’t even accept …

* * * * *

Brian nudged his key into the lock. He felt a lifetime’s guilt bearing down upon him, but he didn’t give a damn. Malia’s presence filled up the entire house, and he always felt like he was being strangled. He had to get out.

He banged around the walls a bit, to let her hear that he was home. Obviously, it wasn’t expected for her to come running, but he didn’t really want to scare her.

Jay Leno was just finishing his credits, so he decided to head upstairs. Sending a quick prayer to God that Malia would stay wherever she was, he made sure all the lights were out. Three steps up, a turn to the right, and then he hit something.

“The Finishing School,” he muttered. “Another one of those touchy-feely girl books.” Malia had left it open, and there was a passage book marked. It caught his eye, and he began reading.

“The reason that song is so haunting,” she said, “is that it’s about a special kind of love. It’s a love that can never be satisfied. It’s more like”--she leaned her head back against the sofa and contemplated the low ceiling with its old beams--“it’s more like a yearning. The person in the song is really addressing a powerful and constant state of yearning more than any real lover. It’s the state of this yearning that torments him, yet he also loves his torment. He needs it. Because he understands that being able to feel this yearning so exquisitely is his secret strength.” …

Oh god, Brian thought. Oh god, no. Stop it. Stop the room from spinning under me. Please god, stop Malia from stretching. Stop her from opening her eyes. And whatever the hell you do, please God, stop her from coming over here.

But if there was a God, he had better things to do than stop Brian Littrell from falling over himself for a girl. As their fingers skimmed each other's skin, Brian became acutely aware of everything he was feeling. Malia wouldn't look at him the entire time, but instead focused on the pattern of the bedspread.

Brighten the stars, the weather is lifting
The heavens love a love like this
It's pulling you higher, twist and turn this around
It lights from within, it dribbles
Your chin brings a smile, I'm lost again, I'm lost again
I'm what you found, I'm upside down
You're in the air, you're in the air
And I am breathing you

"Ten Days Late"//Third Eye Blind
"Desert Rose"//Sting
"So Long"//Guster
"You're In The Air"//REM