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The worst thing about good times is they never last. Shelby figured that out long ago.
Better days in her house would always be followed by worse ones. Weeks where the crushing pressure lifted off her shoulders succeeded by weeks where the weight got even worse. The floating-on-air relief when she won a pageant and her father said he was proud of her would always be popped like a soap bubble as soon as she stepped a foot wrong.
And then there was Becca. Becca, who was everything good in Shelby's life for a while, until she ruined it all, fucked up so bad that Becca died, Becca died and it was partly her fault, and how can she deserve any good things after that?
Only now, here she is, with Toni. Sitting on a secluded part of the beach, the sun shining, the sea sparkling, leaning her head on her girlfriend's shoulder, and it's such a good moment. Such a perfect moment, but all she can think about are endings.
Because good things end. And being with Toni... being with Toni is the best thing that's ever happened. So isn't it destined to blow up even more spectacularly than all the good things have, before?
I don't think I've got it in me to get that scared about something that could be good.
She's been trying to hold those words, she really has. Some days, she's better at believing them.
But the truth is, one way or another, their time on this island will come to an end. And if they don't die in the process, then... ending means home. And home means her family, and the church. Where does Toni fit in that picture, in home? Where does Shelby fit, the person she really is?
The answer is nowhere. So when the other girls talk about home, or collapse in despair at false hope, Shelby feels like an impostor, a traitor, because how does she tell them she'd rather stay? Hey guys, I'd rather stay on a deserted island teeming with danger, an island that already took Nora, and Jeanette, and Rachel's arm, because if I go home, I'll have nobody who loves me as I am?
Even in her most optimistic imaginings, that doesn't go down well.
“Hey.” Toni runs a hand lightly through her hair, and Shelby looks up at her, tries a smile. “You all right?”
“Me? Fine. Just great.”
“You don't have to bullshit me,” Toni says, soft despite the words. “I'm not asking you to be all rainbows and unicorns, remember?”
Shelby smiles for real this time, remembers Toni flinging those words at her back when they were all sharp edges with each other. Back before she saw Toni's heart and Toni saw her hurt and things fell into place.
“I know! I'm not. Just thinkin'.”
“About?”
Shelby hesitates, then gives a half-answer. “Time, kinda.”
“Not what I expected you to say,” Toni admits with a grin. “Aiming to become a philosopher?”
“Shut up.” She lifts her head from Toni's shoulder, reaches up to turn her girlfriend's face towards her. Leans in for a kiss before she has to elaborate on time, and get back in a spiral of endings. Better to take this moment while she can, kiss Toni as many times as possible so when that end comes, she has more to remember, less to regret.
She lets herself drift in it for a moment, chapped lips and warm skin and Toni's hand on her cheek. When they part, she leans their foreheads together, closes her eyes, wanting to stay here, in the closeness.
She wants to see them as eternal, forever in the same kind of way Toni'll always be in her heart. But it's hard to believe in lasting things when her whole life tells her she'll never keep anything good. When she grew up believing true happiness was a reward for the pure and the saintly, that having a heart like hers was a sin.
On good days, she can trick herself into believing in forever. On better ones, she can live in the present without worrying about the end.
Today is a good day, but she's struggling to do either. Maybe because the best moments always sound like ticking clocks to her, counting down.
She's trying, she's really trying to believe good things can last. But right now, the sun shines on Toni like she's favoured by the weather itself, and she looks like someone Shelby can't believe she's ever gotten to touch.
In that moment, all Shelby can see of them is an hourglass, grains of sand slipping down, time running out.
Before she can stop herself, she whispers, “Stay here, okay?”
She can feel the surprise in Toni even without looking, the question that must be written on her face. But like she knows, like she understands, all Toni does is lean in and press another brief kiss to her lips.
“I'm not going anywhere.”
Shelby holds tight to the words, like they're more than what they are, like a casual reassurance is a lifeline, pulling her out of the dark.
She imagines herself cupping her hands beneath the flow of sand, trying desperately to stop it slipping through, and then she takes a deep breath in, tries to fasten herself to this moment.
After all, if they're an hourglass, there's no point watching the grains fall. Better to live in this while it lasts. Better to tell herself this doesn't have to end, and hope that maybe tomorrow, she'll believe it.