Three Times Torn

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Three Times Torn Page 41

by Felisha Antonette


  “Nate,” Olar calls from behind him. “It’s Tracey,” he kindly reminds him. The cautiousness in his tone freaks me out.

  Nathan blinks slowly, having no recognition cross his eyes. But his thoughts say the opposite, I know who she is. I can’t control it.

  Olar comes closer, and Nathan defensively whips around. He stalks toward Olar. I blink, catching a glimpse of what he’s going to do. “Nathan!” I bark his name in the way he hates. He freezes mid-stride, intentions changing. “Stop!” I demand, seeing his hate flip from Olar to me.

  He fixes me with a side-glance over his shoulder.

  Hurting Nathan means hurting me. But if my hurting myself is what it takes to control him, I’m willing to do that. I promised I’ll help at any costs and I’m standing by this promise.

  Taking advantage of his pause, I croon, “Nate, please? Come back.”

  He veers on his heels and charges at me, full demon, fully out of control.

  Olar knocks Nathan to the side, stopping him from grabbing my neck. Nathan twists around, and I jump in front of Olar, guarding him against Nathan’s attack.

  Nathan stops and stares. She’s going to protect him from me?

  “I’m not protecting him from you, Nathan. I’m protecting you from you. Please come back? Get control over yourself.” I step toward him, and Olar grabs my shoulder. Hear me, Nate, I start. Open up and let me in. There’s no ending to our happily forever if you can’t control this. We’ll experience our ending before we can enjoy, indulge, and commence our beginning. We’ve not had the chance to explore the infinity of each other yet, babe. There are still a million questions and a billion things I want to experience with you. Don’t rob us of them.

  Nearing me, he shrinks in size with every steady step. The night swirls from his eyes when he makes it to me, wrapping his thick arms around my back. I return his hug, grateful for whatever switch flipping. “I’m sorry, Sparks.” He lifts me from the ground, and I wrap around him, holding him until his body’s hardness eases.

  “It’s okay. You didn’t hurt me,” I tell him as my feet hit the ground.

  “Good. But you hurt you.”

  I dust myself off and shrug. “No biggy. I’ll risk me to save you.”

  “We’re going to have to reconsider this.” He looks over my shoulder. “Sorry, Olar.”

  “It wasn’t bad, like, at all. Nothing like the past. You’re good,” Olar assures with a proud voice and stone surprise stuck in his wide eyes.

  Olar and Lana drop us off at my house. I have to tell my parents what happened but I don’t think I can handle the pity right now. When we left Scott’s house, his mother was crying. His father tried to console her, but it did no good because his hurt was just as strong. Nathan couldn’t take it, and he pulled me away without saying goodbye.

  Mom and Dad are in the kitchen, laughing over a meal they’re preparing. Nathan and I sit at the bar. We must look as bad as we feel because when Mom looks at us, she’s rushing over, rubbing her hands on ours. “What happened? What’s wrong?” she hurries her words.

  I look to her and then to Nathan, his eyes sustaining his hazel-brown. Dad comes to Mom’s side. “You two don’t want to talk about it?” he asks, concerned.

  Tears burn my eyes, and I blink them away. I’m done crying, and I need to pull it together. I breathe raggedly. “Glen and Scott were in a bad accident.” I pause, and then it spills out, “They didn’t make it.” I choke on the it, and I hope this is the last time I have to have the conversation. I hate this.

  “Oh, honey. Nathan, I am so sorry.” She comes out of the kitchen, around to us.

  We turn around to face her. She takes us both by our necks, pulling us to hug her. I hold it together as strongly as I can. She breaks away, and I reach out to her, pulling her back, breaking down against her shoulder. She soothingly rubs my back. “Shh,” she sings softly. We rock in our hug.

  I pull back, seeing Dad rubbing Nathan’s neck as a father would his son. I can hear nothing but I see him nodding and Dad’s mouth moving. I look up at my mom; her mouth is moving too, but I don’t hear what she says. My heart races. My breaths are deep. The room closes in on me and every ounce of my body I feel to the tenth power. Every pulse pounds hard against my flesh, shuddering my skin.

  Tracey, what’s wrong?

  I can’t hear. Everything’s wrong. The edges of my site blur black and burgundy.

  You’re having an anxiety attack.

  Is that what’s going on? My breaths quicken and my fingertips numb. I’ve begun to tremble.

  He stands, saying something to Dad. Stepping to my side, he says something to Mom. They leave us.

  Nathan grabs my hand and kisses my cheek. Ten seconds slowly tick by and my hearing returns, starting with my mom’s voice saying how bad the news was. I huff a sigh and meet Nathan’s eyes.

  “I have never experienced anything like that,” I say, resting my forehead against his chest. He rubs the back of my head upward in the direction my hair is pulled. It accommodates his calming scent.

  “Too much stress.”

  “Tell me about it. I have anxiety attacks, and you go demon.” I speak quietly, not able to tell how close my parents are.

  He titters. “That’s not even funny. I’m sorry about that. I lost control.”

  “No, you tried to control yourself. You wanted to rip my head off, but you didn’t.” I lean back on the stool. “When you’re losing it, your thoughts creep in my head.” I take calming breaths, my heart at its usual beat. “My scent. You wanted it to calm you. But then you wanted me to kiss you; it just wasn’t you kissing me and it was too forceful.”

  “That sounds about right. But I didn’t know about you being able to hear my thoughts, though.”

  “Not everything, but some things. Mainly when you would try to calm yourself down, I think.”

  “Well, it’s good for you that I love you.” He smiles.

  “You said that too.”

  “Said what?” Dad asks, walking back into the kitchen.

  “That I love her,” Nathan answers too comfortably.

  “It’s good that you do.”

  “Honey, you staying home tonight?” Mom asks, coming to Dad’s side.

  “Yes. Nathan’s house is full of people.”

  “Why?” She looks to Nathan. “It wouldn’t be because of—”

  “No,” he cuts her off. “During the summer, we always have a house full. Everyone comes out to visit.”

  “You have more than enough room,” Dad states.

  “We do, but it’s starting to get a little crowded.” Crap. I just said we. I shake my head, ready to hear it.

  “We?” Dad replies with unnecessary exaggeration. “I’d say you are mighty comfortable, Tracey.”

  I’m not answering that. I am comfortable, but I know this talk will lead to how comfortable I am, and somehow we will end up talking about things that will further my discomfort.

  I leave from the breakfast bar to the family room.

  “James, Karen, do you mind if I stay here for a while?”

  “No, Nathan. Of course not.”

  “Thank you, James.”

  I feel him walk into the room. He sits down next to me, and I lay my head against his shoulder. We sit close, closer than we usually would in front of my parents with his arms wrapped around me and my head tucked into his neck. We share our thoughts to keep our minds busy, to keep away his darkness and my absurdities. He shows me the mountains and sky; I show him the stars.

  THE PATTER OF LITTLE feet has been charging through the house all day. There are almost as many children as there are adults. Over the last couple of months more of our relatives have arrived and all of them, all of them, came accompanied with two or more children. Just about every room with a TV has a show playing with way too many rhyming songs and catchy phrases I’m sure will be stuck in my head for the rest of my life.

  “Aaahhh! Stop him! Stop him!” a little voice shrills.

  I twis
t around, seeing Marsha fleeing toward me. She rounds me, hiding behind my legs.

  Aaron’s coming down the hall like a raging bull. “Get out of the way, Tracey!” he shouts.

  “Stop him, Tracey! Stop him!” she cries, scared out of her mind.

  “What is going on you two?!” I ask loudly.

  Aaron tries to grab her, chasing her in circles around me.

  “Okay! You two are making me dizzy.” I squat down, grabbing both of them. “That’s enough.” Holding them apart from each other, I ask, “What’s going on?”

  “He’s trying to kill me!” she yells, pointing.

  “She threw knives at me!” he shouts back. “I am trying to kill her!”

  “Stop him, Tracey!”

  “Okay. Aaron, stop. Don’t kill her,” I say awkwardly, sure that can’t be what I’m supposed to say.

  He waggles around, trying to break free. “She needs to pay!”

  I let Marsha go, turning fully to Aaron. Before I can speak, she slaps him in the face and runs off down the hallway. Aaron jerks out of my grip and runs after her.

  I stand, stunned, watching them chase each other. “I am never having kids.”

  “Never?” Nathan drawls, coming up behind me.

  “Did you just see that?”

  “Yep.”

  “What type of craziness?”

  “That’s what they do; they’re children.”

  I finish my path toward the front room. “Children are supposed to sit around and say they’re ABCs, being good.”

  “They do that too.” He points, adding, “This is what they do after.”

  “Nathan?! Tracey?!” Sounds like Carmen yelling from the front door.

  “It is. I think they just got here,” Nathan informs.

  Summer has brought us warm weather and a new knock on the door every week. It’s overcrowded and always loud. Some people complain, and others just go with it.

  We meet Natalia, Carmen, and her brothers at the front door.

  “Hey, Tracey, how are you?” Carmen sings, throwing her arms around my neck.

  I return her hug. “Good. I was wondering when you were going to come over.”

  “I’m here now.” She throws a punch against Nathan’s chest. “Dude, have you gotten taller?”

  “Yes,” I exaggerate.

  “No,” he retorts. “I’m the same height.” Yeah, you think so. Nathan’s gotten taller; he just doesn’t see it.

  “You think your house is full of enough people?” she asks, watching Naomi—Nathan’s aunt from California—chase after two other children.

  “Yes,” I say, watching them run around us to the living room.

  “What are you two getting ready to do?”

  “Nothing. What are you trying to do?” Nathan asks.

  “I’d like to scale a mountain,” she chimes, bouncing on her toes. “Can we?”

  “Yeah, let’s go mountain climbing,” Courtney seconds, grabbing one child running past him. “Hey, Percy.” Percy struggles to get loose and Courtney places him back on the floor. He hits the ground running.

  “I’m definitely down for mountain climbing,” Carteal adds.

  “Me too,” Nathan chimes in. “You in?” he asks me.

  “I’m okay with anything that gets me out of this danger zone.”

  Cindy rushes past with Percy on her heels. They circle us, and Percy uses my leg to hold him from turning too far as he heads in a different direction, nearly knocking me off my feet.

  “I think they should come with signs like roads,” Carmen says, watching them run back down the hallway.

  “I agree. Like; Danger Ahead, Stay Away.” Far away.

  The five of us race off to a mountain far from the house. The wind’s warm against my skin and the midafternoon’s sun is high and bright.

  Everyone’s charged up and excited about this climb. We have no ropes, harnesses, or protective wear. It’s just us. I feel like we’re daredevils trying to accomplish mission impossible.

  We meet the mountain’s base, and Courtney jumps over five feet in the air onto the rock. Grabbing onto it, he cheers, “Yee haw!” and climbs faster than my eyes can follow. Carteal’s slower. Instead of jumping, he starts from the ground up.

  I know Nathan wants to attack the mountain too, seeing the admiration in his eyes as he watches his cousins. Nudging him with my elbow, I encourage, “Go ahead, babe.”

  An enthusiastic smile spreads his raspberry colored lips. “I’ll be back.” He flicks his gaze to Carmen. “Look out for her?”

  “I got it,” she says. “We’re going to climb at her skill level.”

  “Thanks.” He rushes off, jumping high like Courtney did. Climbing inhumanly fast, he jumps even higher when he reaches a ledge. I admire his enjoyment, remembering this is one of his favorite things to do.

  “Come on, Tracey.” Carmen runs to the mountain, and I follow behind her. We face the large rock, preparing to make it my bitch.

  That’s right, baby. Own that rock.

  I laugh at his remark.

  “The key to it is not to think, Tracey. Trust your body to climb and not fall, trust that your hands will pull you up and your feet will be your leverage and have fun releasing whatever stress the world has brought upon you on the mountain.” She pinches her nose and nods, assuring, “It can take it.”

  I watch her climb, hand and hand, foot and foot, using the uneven protrusions of the rock. Following her movement, I didn’t realize how much upper body strength is needed in this. Realizing it’s easier for me to push myself up; I use my legs to step higher. I don’t feel the fun in this full-body workout, but it’s better than separating children and watching Caillou.

  Carmen climbs beside me, pointing to a ledge on which we can comfortably recline. This is much easier for her.

  “Are you tired yet?” she asks, sitting next to me.

  “Yes. But not exhausted, my arms are just tight.”

  She stretches. “It takes some getting used to I guess.”

  “I’m more of a runner than a climber. But this can help relieve some stress.”

  “It does. Especially when you do it like these adrenaline junkies.” She points to one of the boys free falling down the mountain; he shoots back up the moment he grabs on to it.

  “Oh yeah, I won’t be doing that. But if you want to go, I’ll wait here.”

  “So Nathan can kill me.” She shakes her head. “Not a chance. I’ll wait with you until you’re ready to climb higher or until Nathan comes.”

  “Sorry I’m slowing you down.”

  “You’re not. It’s cool.” She scoots to the edge of the ledge, letting her legs swing back and forth.

  I stretch my neck, feeling the sun warm my arms. “I’d climb all the way up here to tan in this sun. You must do this often.”

  “Not as often as I’d like to. But when we come over here we do.” She drags her gaze away from me to the view of the water in the distance. “It’s good Nathan has found you. You’re a good match for him. A nice down to Earth, understanding girl. Not a loud mouth. And you’re cute, fitting in with us.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be taking that as a compliment.”

  “Yeah. You should see some of the girls my brother comes home with. It’s embarrassing.” She examines her fingernails, adding, “Carteal doesn’t bring girls home. But Courtney, it’s less likely you catching him without one.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “Do you have any siblings?

  “No, just me.”

  “Be grateful for that too.”

  Carmen is great company. She never brings up Glen and Scott or discusses anything uncomfortable. Our peaceful tête-à-tête only centers around the family, her brothers, and them being around Nathan’s house.

  Nathan drops onto our ledge. “Thanks, Carmen.”

  “Don’t thank me. It was fun.” She smiles. “I’ll be back, Tracey.”

  I nod, and she flips backward off the ledge.

  “You havi
ng a good time?” I ask Nathan, seeing him dirtied by dust from the rock.

  He wipes his hands on his pants. “Yes, I am actually.”

  “Good. Came to keep me company or relieve Carmen from Tracey duty?” I joke.

  “Both.” He sits beside me. “What were you two talking about?”

  “Nothing, just family and the things you all do around here for the summer. You know, mountain climbing, diving off mountains, skidding across the water by running too fast to sink, knocking down trees by punching the crap out of them. Inhuman stuff,” I say casually.

  “That all sounds about right.” He pulls me under his arm. He’s hot and sweaty. “You want me to climb you up the mountain? We can dive off and catch ourselves.”

  “Umm, climbing me up the mountain, yes. Catching ourselves . . . no, thank you.”

  He lifts me on his back and jumps up from the ledge. Grabbing hold of the mountain with his sharp nails and hard hands, he climbs, reaching a much higher ledge.

  “Hey, Tracey. Having fun?” Carteal asks me, preparing to jump.

  “Not as much fun as you,” I joke.

  He smirks and throws himself off the edge.

  I gasp, whipping around to Nathan.

  “We could do that,” he offers.

  “Absolutely not.”

  “How do you think we’re going to get down?”

  I didn’t think about that. “Climb?”

  “Nope, Sparks. We’re going to jump.” His hand finds the small of my back, and he spins me around to face him. “Thanks for what you did for me earlier,” he says in a comforting voice.

  “Anytime.”

  Courtney jumps onto the ledge. “Don’t do that stuff up here.” He shakes himself out, trying to get off the rock dust. “I’m getting jealous.”

  “That won’t last for long,” Nathan retorts. “The moment you leave the house, you’ll return with a new sidekick.”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” he says and flips off the mountain.

  I rise on my tiptoes and tilt my head back. “You’ll be the first guy I’ve ever kissed on a mountain.”

 

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