Runaways

by V. C. Andrews

  "What?" he said, holding his smile.

  "I don't know. I felt so free, so powerful. I just felt . . . alive. I guess I sound stupid."

  "No," he said, shaking his head. "You sound pretty wonderful to me."

  I felt my face warm. Why did I have to blush so much?

  "I can understand how you felt." He walked to the doorway and I followed alongside. For a moment he just stared out at the road, the woods and the bushes. "This place sometimes puts me in a strange, sad mood, as if I've got to run fast to catch up with the best things in my life, things that are all slipping away from me. I feel the same sort of panic you felt. I feel trapped and alone."

  He stepped out and we walked as he continued.

  "Sometimes, I see a car with out-of-state plates go by and I think about just walking away from here, getting into my car and driving until I run out of gas. Wherever that is, I'll stay and make a life for myself," he said, looking out at the darkness.

  There was a flatbed truck beside the garage. It looked like something from the sixties, rusting, missing a rear tire, the passenger side window shattered.

  "Why don't you do just that?" I asked softly. His voice and mine were barely above a whisper now. He shrugged.

  "Dad, I guess. I'm all he has, even though half the time, he doesn't even know I'm around. And then I think, what will I have out there? At least here I have something. It's not much, I know, but it's mine and I'm my own boss. Not many guys my age can say that," he added.

  He boosted himself up onto the flatbed and sat, his hands on his lap, his head a bit bowed. I stepped on the bumper and jumped up beside him with such ease, he laughed.

  "You're pretty nimble."

  "I can stand on my head," I bragged, "but don't ask me to do it," I followed quickly.

  The two of us looked at the dark street. It was still, quiet.

  "Not much traffic goes by here this time of the night, does it?" I asked.

  "No." He leaned back on his elbow, found a dried piece of grass on the flatbed and put it into his mouth. "What about you, Brooke? Did you leave a boyfriend back there?"

  "No," I said quickly.

  "C'mon, there must have been a few," he insisted.

  "Well, no one important at least," I admitted finally.

  "What do you mean? How can that be?" he kidded. "How could boys resist falling head over heels for you?" Something in his eyes turned serious, and I knew he was paying me another compliment.

  "I used to ask myself that every day," I joked back, suddenly uncomfortable.

  He laughed harder and then suddenly stopped and fixed his gaze on me. In the darkness, his beautiful ebony eyes glistened. When he turned, his body moved closer to me. We were only inches apart. I didn't turn away as his lips drew closer. We touched, almost as if by accident at first, tentative, soft, quick, and then he shifted his weight and kissed me harder, longer, his hand going to my shoulder to hold me to him.

  "I like you, Brooke," he said. "I like you a lot." "I like you, too."

  "I'm glad your car's water pump broke," he whispered.

  We kissed again and then we lay back: He had his arm outstretched so that my head rested on it and when I turned, I turned into his chest. Above us the stars blinked like candles in the dark. It made me dizzy to lie there, feeling his heartbeat as well as my own. His lips were on my forehead and then slowly traced the bridge of my nose, paused at the tip, kissed it and moved to my lips again. This kiss was long, softer, warmer. I felt the heat rising up my legs as if I had lowered myself into a warm bath.

  I put my fingers into his hair and combed through it, moving down the back of his neck. I heard him moan and felt his excitement building. He moved closer, his right hand sliding down my arm and under to find my breast. I turned into him and buried my face against his chest. He kissed the top of my head and then nibbled gently on my ear. It sent a delightful chill down my spine.

  He rose to his knees then and carefully, gracefully guided me back farther onto the flatbed until we were well hidden by the sides of the truck. There was a bale of hay at the rear. My head rested against it. He rose to his knees, lowered the straps of his coveralls and pulled off his shirt. His chest shimmered in the darkness, reflecting the starlight that was in my eyes as well.

  "To me you're a breath of fresh air, Brooke," he whispered just before he lowered himself to kiss me again. His fingers moved under my sweatshirt. I lifted my back so the shirt would go smoothly up and over my head. He kissed my neck and reached behind to undo my bra. When I felt the snap unfasten, my heart stopped and then started like a parade drum. He didn't lift the bra from my breasts quickly. For a few moments, he continued to kiss around it, nudging my breasts. I had never before gone this far with a boy. I could barely breathe.

  No voice within me told me to stop. I had no fears, no hesitation. I surprised myself with my eagerness, my desire to continue, to explore my own feelings.

  Todd was so different than the other boys I'd dated. Every time he touched me, it was as though he asked first, as though he was careful to be sure it was what I wanted. He gave me the feeling he wanted me to enjoy him as much as he could enjoy me. It was lovemaking on that romantic level, that level of equality girls read about, dream about, but rarely have. I was having it and it flooded my heart with a warmth I never thought possible.

  My nipples were so stiff so quickly, they ached. I couldn't help my moaning.

  "Brooke," he whispered. "You're beautiful, as beautiful as any girl I've ever seen."

  I quickly discovered that words could dazzle like jewels. They traveled through my ears and into my brain, but they kept going until they touched my deepest, most secret self. They nudged the woman in me and I longed for him in ways that had come to me only in my most private fantasies.

  I felt his leg between my legs and I pressed myself against him eagerly. We writhed, kissed, drank at each other's lips. I was in such a daze, I vaguely felt his fingers undo my jeans. Before I could stop him, his hand was inside and found my most private place. I didn't turn away. His excitement grew rapidly now. His breathing came so fast, I felt my first tinge of fear.

  "Todd," I said, "I've never done this before." "I know," he said, "but I've never wanted it more with anyone."

  His words were hypnotic. Finally, a tiny voice began to call out a warning. It called my name. I liked to think of that voice within me as my mother's voice, something I seized on when I was a baby, something I buried deep inside myself to resurrect only when I needed it the most.

  He had undone his own pants and I felt his nakedness. He struggled with my panties and then, he stopped when I didn't move as cooperatively as I had before.

  "I'm afraid," I cried. "I know we're going too fast, Todd. Please."

  He slumped against me.

  "You're right," he said, "we are, but you're running off tomorrow."

  "I am, but I'm not going to forget you, if you don't want me to," I said.

  His breathing slowed. He pressed his forehead against my shoulder and waited as if he had to endure some terrible agony for a moment.

  "Are you all right?" I asked.

  "Yes. Just give me a minute," he said. I let him lie there, his body against me. We listened to each other's hearts beating like jungle drums Who knew the messages they were exchanging? Finally, he turned on his back, slipped his coveralls up, and took a deep breath.

  I fixed my- bra and put on my sweatshirt. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

  "There's nothing to apologize for, Brooke. You did something to me from the moment I first saw you and I couldn't help myself. Believe me. I'm not like this normally."

  He sat up, pulling his knees in and embracing his legs with his head down. It was easier for him to open his heart to me that way.

  "I have this fear thatI'll be like my mother, wild, immoral. It's like it might be in my blood or something. I hated the way men treated her and I don't want to treat a woman, any woman that way.

  "But it was different with you," he said,
raising his head. "I just couldn't stop my feelings."

  "I know. Neither could I," I said.

  I could see his smile glisten in the starlight. "I guess your friends are going to wonder where you are."

  "No, they have no idea how long fixing a car should take," I said. "It's all right."

  "You can drive your own car back now," he said.

  "I'm not in any rush." I lowered my head to his lap when he straightened his legs and looked up at him.

  "I guess this is what they mean when they say love at first sight. Man, oh man, I don't know whether to feel foolish or happy."

  "Be happy, Todd. I am."

  "You really won't forget me?" he asked.

  I laughed.

  "You'll forget me first. I'm sure."

  "I'll take that bet," he said. "As soon as you land somewhere, write or call and I'll make that my first vacation."

  "Promise?"

  "On every star in the sky. Every time you look up at night, you can think of me and my promise. Just remember I'm waiting back here and don't let me wait forever, okay?"

  "Oh, Todd, I don't know where we're going to end up. I'm afraid now," I said. "And I'm the leader. I'm the one who got them all to go."

  "You'll figure it out, Brooke. I can see you're someone who lands on her feet. My money's on you."

  I laughed.

  "Now you do sound like someone in love because when you're in love, you're blind to what's real."

  "Who told you that?" he asked.

  "No one. I came to that conclusion myself," I said.

  "I told you I am too realistic. It won't apply to me."

  "Oh sure," I said. "We've run away, stolen a car, been robbed, don't know where we're going or what we'll actually do when we get there, but I'll land on my feet. That's being realistic?"

  "Yes," he insisted. "In your case, yes."

  I reached up. He lowered his head so my hand could go around his neck, and then he let me pull his lips close enough for mine to meet them. It was our most delicious kiss because it was our seal, our promise, our kiss meant to last forever and ever.

  Mrs. Slater didn't tell me that she locked the front door after eleven. It was embarrassing to have to ring the bell and then when no one came, to knock and knock. Finally, she was there. She wore a dark brown terry cloth robe at least two sizes too big and men's slippers.

  "I'm sorry to wake you," I said.

  "I didn't know you were still out, dear. It's always been my rule to lock my doors at eleven unless someone tells me otherwise. I thought you were all upstairs, snug in your beds. Where have you been?" she asked stepping back.

  "Fixing our car," I said. "Thank you. Good night," I said before she asked another question. I hurried past her and up the stairs to my and Raven's room. She was awake, lying there with her hands behind her head, the small lamp on the nightstand lit.

  "You don't have to tell me," she said as soon as I walked in, "I can see it on your face."

  "What?"

  She laughed and looked at the clock.

  "Nearly four hours to fix the water pump?"

  "It was difficult," I said. "The old pump was rusted and . ."

  "Pleeeze. I recognize that look on your face," she joked, but there was a bit of sadness behind her words. She, too, had felt this in love with Taylor, and his awful behavior still stung.

  "Oh Raven," I cried in a voice that even I didn't recognize. The joking look dropped off her face.

  "What?" she asked quickly, her eyes filled with more concern than curiosity.

  "I think . . . I know I'm in love."

  "What? In love? You hardly . . . now wait a minute, Brooke. You can't be serious," she declared, sitting up with her hands on her hips.

  "Why not?"

  "Why not? You just met him, Brooke. You know what can happen if you go too fast . . . you don't want what happened to me with Taylor to happen to you!" There was such grief in her face I wanted to listen, but my heart told me Todd and I were different.

  "I know you mean well, Raven, and I'm sorry that Taylor broke your heart, but Todd is different, he's not like Taylor."

  She looked at me closely and then sat back against her pillow.

  "Tell me what happened, Brooke. I want to believe you're right about Todd."

  "Well, I didn't go there expecting anything romantic to happen." Her eyes grew smaller. "Really, Raven, I didn't. We talked a little and I helped him as he worked," I continued.

  She started to giggle and I shot her a mutinous look.

  "I'm sorry. It's just a garage is probably the last place on earth I'd expect to have a romantic time."

  She pressed her lips together and pretended to zip her mouth shut.

  "He's a very sensitive guy. I began to feel more sorry for him than I did for myself. His father's an alcoholic and his mother ran off with someone else years ago," I said.

  "This is your Mr. Right?"

  "You can't blame him for his parents, Raven. How would you like us to be blamed for ours?" I shot back at her. The devilish look in her eyes faded quickly.

  "You're right," she said softly.

  "He broke up with a girl recently. I guess she wasn't right for him and she wanted to get very serious."

  "Uh huh, I see," Raven commented, raising her eyebrows and darkening her eyes.

  "What's that supposed to mean? Raven?"

  "Well, sometimes boys are more passionate or nicer when they're on the rebound, Brooke. They're suffering from broken hearts and along you come to help mend them," she explained.

  "He wasn't suffering from a broken heart. If anything, the girl was," I insisted. She nodded, still skeptical. "We talked about that a little and then we went out to this flatbed."

  "This what?"

  "It's a kind of truck," I explained.

  "Oh." She smothered a smile with the back of her hand

  "Are you just going to laugh at me or really listen?"

  "All right. Sorry. What happened?"

  "We kissed and . . ."

  "And?"

  "Kissed and kissed and stopped just before it was too late," I said. I looked down when she was silent. "I really didn't want to stop."

  "Really? This is special." She was pensive a moment and then she leaned forward to touch my shoulder. "What are you going to do?"

  "Nothing. What can I do? I promised I'd write him from wherever we land and he promised to come see me," I said.

  She sat back, thought a moment and nodded with a small smile.

  "You know, I think he just might visit. He really sounds like someone special. I'm sorry I was so suspicious--I just didn't want you to fall into the same trap I did."

  I saw in her face that she meant it and I thanked her. We hugged and I went to brush my teeth and get ready for bed.

  Later, in the dark, just before I turned over, Raven called to me.

  "What?"

  "It's nice, Brooke. It's nice to have someone to be in your dreams."

  "What if it is never anything but dreams, Raven?"

  She thought a moment.

  "It will be more for you, Brooke. I just know it will."

  "How do you know?"

  "How do I know? I know because I'm jealous," she said with a voice filled with regret. I wondered how long it would take her to get over giving Taylor that very special part of her.

  "Good night, Raven. Thanks."

  "You don't need to thank me. You're my sister, Brooke."

  "Forever and ever."

  "The Orphanteers . ."

  We fell asleep, both of us drifting off to dreamland.

  Raven didn't say anything about me to Crystal and Butterfly in the morning. They had fallen asleep rather quickly the night before and never knew when I had returned. As usual, Crystal woke us.

  "Is the car fixed?" she asked as I ground the dreams out of my eyes.

  "Yes. It's right outside."

  "We get breakfast here," she said, "so you should hurry and dress."

  I poked Raven, who
groaned and mumbled to be left alone. Crystal poked her too, and she finally got up and practically sleep-walked her way through breakfast. It was a good breakfast, too, and Mrs. Slater was a very nice host, chatting about everything from the weather to the latest headlines in the newspaper- reft on her doorstep. She was curious about us, but not enough to really pry, and like everyone we met, she fell in love with Butterfly, who turned her winning smile and soft eyes on her like a searchlight for affection.

  After breakfast, Crystal and I waited on the porch and went over the map, planning how far we expected to get and where we thought we would stop again.

  "We have just a little more than a hundred dollars now, Brooke. I don't know what we'll do even if we get to Los Angeles in two days."

  "Just go right out and look for work, waiting tables. Maybe," I thought aloud, "we could sell this car."

  "Sell the car? How? It doesn't belong to us." "There are people who won't care," I said.

  "We wouldn't know how or where to find those sorts of people, Brooke, and I'm not going to sell something we've borrowed," she emphasized.

  As long as we continued to tell ourselves we borrowed it, we wouldn't feel as guilty or think of ourselves as thieves. She was right.

  "Something will come up for us, Crystal. You'll see," I said. I had promised to stop by Todd's before we left, but I was a little hesitant about it and considered just driving right by. I knew it would hurt him as much as it would hurt me, however.

  "Ready," Raven sang and spun around in the doorway. "California, here we come!"

  Butterfly came out with a care package Mrs. Slater had prepared for us.

  "She said she couldn't let us go without lunch," Butterfly told us as we headed to the car. Once again, we'd found people who cared about us just when we had to leave.

  We got into the station wagon and I started the engine. Mrs. Slater came to the door to wave goodbye as we drove off. When the garage came into view, I slowed.