by H. M. Ward
As I turned the corner, my eyes were fixated on the smooth floor, until I was a few feet from my locker. I shuddered and looked up. Collin’s arms were folded tightly against his chest, accentuating the firm curve of his arms. A dark blue shirt clung to his torso, and he had on his black leather jacket. The leather was well worn. It was his favorite coat.
I stopped, unable to move in the middle of the busy hallway. It was like dropping a rock in the middle of an anthill. Everyone moved around me in swarms. Mixed emotions flooded me. I wanted to see him, but I couldn’t bear the thought of talking to him. I desperately needed a friend. Someone I could trust with everything, but no matter how much I wanted to tell him, I couldn’t. I’d have to do this alone. Swallowing hard, I stepped into the stream of kids, and crossed to my locker. The entire time, Collin’s eyes were intensely focused on me. He ignored those who called him, never shifting his gaze. Shifting his body, he leaned against the next locker, and then gestured for me to come and open mine. I faltered, as my pulse quickened. Reaching for my locker door, I averted my eyes, trying to hurry. I said nothing.
“So, you’re going out with him?” His jaw was clenched, as he asked what everyone naturally assumed. Somewhat confused, I paused, looking at his feet. My head leaned on my locker, as I pressed my eyes closed.
This is what bothered him so much that he broke the silence? It was nothing, but Collin didn’t know that. Eric and I were together every day, during class, after class, at rehearsal, and after. This was the first day I was alone after school. Eric and I talked about it, and though it was best to let others assume we were dating, even though we weren’t. It made life easier, and I needed easier. Collin wasn’t easier. I longed to tell him, and feel the burden of the past few weeks melt away. But I couldn’t. I had to lie. Again.
“Maybe I am,” I lied, looking into my locker. I stood there, seeing nothing, barely moving. The hairs on my neck prickled, as I felt his gaze on my face.
He didn’t respond right away. His eyes lingered on the side of my face, with his lips pressed tight. Finally he said, “Or, maybe you’re not.” There was no shift to his stance, and his arms remained tightly locked at his chest. More people walked by, calling out to him, but Collin ignored them completely.
A nervous laugh escaped from me. This was my chance. I could tell him the truth, or part of it anyway. I could say we aren’t dating—that I didn’t like Eric that way. I pushed a curl behind my ear, and turned to him. I was careful to look at his cheek and not his eyes. But, instead of the truth, I uttered the words that would protect me, “Of course we are. Don’t tell me you’re jealous, Collin.” I smirked at him.
His expression was intense, unblinking. “You never touch. He doesn’t hold your hand. I haven’t seen you touch him—at all. That’s a bit odd Ivy.” His eyes were fixated on my chin. He could have taken the information out of my mind, if I looked up. But he didn’t. He waited for me to answer.
I rummaged through my locker, acting like I didn’t care. “Maybe for you it’s odd, but not me. I’m not like that anymore.” Memories of kissing nameless boys surfaced along with the pain I’d tried to contain last year. I pushed the thoughts back down. Shaking my head, I glanced up at him. “I’m not like that anymore.”
His voice was so quiet it was almost inaudible, “Just tell me.” His chest rose and fell in deep, controlled breaths. His fingers were gripping his arms so hard that they were turning white. It didn’t matter what he asked or what I wanted. I couldn’t tell him. Regret pooled in my stomach, making my lips twist. I bit them gently, to remove the scowl from my face.
I heard myself say, “There’s nothing to tell. I’m not like you. I don’t screw everything on two legs, okay?”
He smiled slightly. It was a cocky boyish grin that I rarely saw on his face. It was the look that said I was right, and that he didn’t mind so much. He earned his reputation before I knew him, and it was general knowledge that he wasn’t a one-girl kind of guy. I thought that was why he let me be last year, when I lost it. The pain of losing someone I loved was unbearable. Drowning it in lust was the only escape I found. His hair slid over his eyes, as he looked at the floor. “No. Not everyone.” His blue eyes cut into me. A shiver spilled down my spine. “Not you.”
“No, not me.” I whispered, heart pounding. I looked down at the books that I had pulled tightly to my chest. Realizing my words sounded a little too remorseful, I smiled softly, “I think that was the first time someone shot you down.”
The corners of his mouth pulled up, and the death grip he had on his arms lessened. “Pretty much. You wouldn’t even look at me. You remember that?” His arms loosened, and slid into his pockets. A smirk crossed my lips. I remembered. The theater kids I hung around with after school had thrust a script into my hands. They made me cover for someone, and banished me to prompt in one of the wings backstage. I sat in the darkened alcove alone, messing up cues, and losing my place in the script. It was mortifying.
Collin exited after his lines, and saw me alone in the darkness. He moved confidently toward me. The pick-up line he used rolled right off of me. I was so flustered about looking like an idiot that I thought he was teasing me. Shock had silenced him when I walked away. At some point I realized it was real—he liked me. But too much time passed, and I wasn’t willing to admit that I’d mistaken his advances as anything but teasing. So, it became a game—a game where he’d say incredible things to convince me to go out with him, and I’d always laugh and say no. The things he said were slightly absurd, which made me laugh. My playful rejections became equally amusing. But that was the past. Why was he bringing this up now? Nodding, I leaned into my locker, looking at his chest. Looking at his eyes was safe, he still wouldn’t hear my thoughts, but if I forgot and touched him he could.
“Enough other girls looked at you. One more didn’t matter.” I shrugged, “Some people are meant to be friends. That’s all.”
He shifted his feet, leaning his back onto the locker, his blue gaze intense and unblinking. “You don’t kiss him.”
The smile slid off my face. Why is he pressing this? I straightened, ready to leave, but before I walked away, I found myself toying with telling him a secret. I never told anyone about this hidden part of me. Telling him this little bit of truth felt dangerous, like parading a mouse in front of a sleeping lion. And it gave me a sense of control that I was utterly lacking. Squirming slightly against the locker, I looked up to his jaw line. I felt the secret burning on my lips, as I uttered the words, “I don’t kiss guys who I really like. I never have. Okay?”
A single brow floated up on Collin’s face. His lips gave me a disbelieving smile, and I instantly regretted telling him. My defenses shot up as I scoffed, “Oh, stop it. It’s not that weird.” I pulled my books tighter to my body like they were a security blanket. My heart pummeled in my chest. I accidentally told him a much more personal secret than I’d intended. I could feel the burn rising in my cheeks as my embarrassment became visible.
“Ivy,” he said with a smirk on his lips, “of course it’s weird. You’ve kissed half the school, and there wasn’t one guy in that lot that you liked even a little bit?”
“That’s a grossly inflated number. And no. There wasn’t.” A coy smile came over me before I could wash it away. I could see how it would be weird for the girl who kissed almost anyone for over a year, to have never kissed someone she truly liked. No one knew.
Collin’s features were totally serious. His voice was rich, asking softly, “Why? Why won’t you kiss him?” He was completely focused now, watching me, waiting for me to look up. I shouldn’t have said anything. My throat felt dry. I swallowed hard, not wanting to answer. How do I tell him this part? I wasn’t sure if I wanted to tell him. I knew if I didn’t answer, he would press until I did. It would make it a much bigger deal than if I spit it out now. And as long as I didn’t touch him, he wouldn’t know the whole truth.
Acting like it wasn’t a big deal, even though it was a defining key
stone to my ideal relationship, I spit out some words. “Because, I like him. And it doesn’t work both ways. Friends aren’t dates. There’s a relationship there that’s too precious to mess up with hormones. Maybe it’s stupid, but I don’t think it’s possible to have both.”
He leaned a little closer, intrigued. “Both what?” Our eyes were getting dangerously close to meeting.
“A friend who’s also a boyfriend. That stuff’s for fairytales, Collin. It doesn’t happen in real life.” The words were distant thoughts, lodged at the back of my mind for years, but their truth resonated with me as I said them. It wasn’t possible to have everything. That was a dream—an unattainable dream that silly people spent a lifetime to find out.
His response surprised me. “I can’t believe you said that.” Forgetting to avoid his eyes, I looked straight into the rich blue pools. I couldn’t look away. Don’t touch him, and you’ll be fine. Waves of emotions washed over me, but they were so jumbled that I couldn’t tell what it meant. “Ivy, that’s the ultimate goal when you’re playing the field—finding the person who gets you—someone who knows you, your faults, and likes you anyway. Why wouldn’t you want that? Why separate them?”
Things felt familiar, like they had gone back to the way it was before. Before everything got weird. Before my life was ripped out of my hands. I was content to revel in it for the moment, but his directness made my eyes sweep downward. I didn’t know if it was to avoid judgment, or to push him away. This was one of my precious secrets. He didn’t understand, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to. I finally answered, “Because they can’t co-exist. They just don’t. It’s not a matter of separating them. They don’t go together. There’s no such thing as true love.”
“Really?” he asked. I nodded. His voice sounded breathless, “Ivy, how did you get so cynical?” He tilted his head, sincerely asking, “So, tell me; why can’t you have both? Why can’t you have the guy who is your best friend, and your lover? Why can’t he be the same person?” His sapphire eyes searched my face, unafraid, waiting for me to answer.
I looked into his eyes, and suddenly it didn’t feel like we were talking about Eric anymore. My heart slid into my stomach. These were things I never told anyone. I wondered if I was making a mistake. I said, “I couldn’t risk it. It’s too reckless. Relationships are destroyed when a couple breaks up—even if they were friends. Sometimes it’s better to hold onto what you have, rather than risk what might be.” I felt so exposed, and normally that would terrify me, but with Collin, right then—it didn’t. It felt normal, and I didn’t want it to stop. He made me feel found, and I’d felt lost for so long.
A sad smile formed on his face. “But, Ivy, you risk losing everything you could gain if it worked out. It has to work out for someone, sometime. Why not you?” His eyes were so blue.
Shaking my head, my eyes remained locked with his. Courage and recklessness mingled together. What he was suggesting was not possible. “When has anything ever worked out like that for me?” I didn’t feel as bitter as it sounded, “It’s not in the cards for me, Collin. I’m content with things the way they are. I don’t get the fairytale. I’m the emotionally scarred girl with the cynical view of life, and I’m okay with that. I know who I am. I know what I get.”
He leaned on the locker facing me, moving even closer. He closed the gap so that our bodies were almost touching. His warm breath slid across my skin when he spoke, “Out of all people, I would have thought you’d be the one to hunt it down, and then hold onto it.”
My head jerked back a little bit, surprised at his words, “Why would you think that?” There was no way I would risk that. Not after losing my sister, and dealing with the agonizing pain that followed. I had no desire to love anyone, especially if I had a choice about it. Love only brought pain.
His hand ran across my cheek. An icy hot shock flowered under his hand before he pulled it away mumbling, “Sorry, I forgot.”
The touch made me jump, but it felt different—desirable almost. No thoughts leaked through then. A few emotions, but they were the obvious ones displayed on Collin’s face. He paused, looking at me, but avoiding my gaze. He shrugged, “It’s just—you’re not someone who does stuff half way. At some point, I thought you’d give up the dating half way thing and shoot for the stars. I just thought… you’d want it.” His eyes flicked back up to see how I took his words.
I was stunned we were having this conversation. The grip on my books had loosened at some point, as I looked up at his downturned face. “Collin?” I asked. He looked at me. “Is this what you came to ask me about?”
Shaking his head, he said, “No, it wasn’t.” He took in a deep breath, and ran his fingers through his dark hair.
“Then, what was it?”
His sapphire gaze was soft, as it met mine. “The bond—it’s changing.”
“What do you mean? I didn’t notice anything.”
Collin smiled sadly at me. “I wasn’t sure. I had to talk to you to find out.” He swallowed hard, “Ivy, it’s growing.” His words weren’t meshing with reality. Growing? I hadn’t noticed anything. What was he talking about?
Shaking my head, I said, “No, it’s not. Collin, we just stood here and talked, and it wasn’t weird. I kinda liked it. It felt like us, again. The way things used to be.” But as soon as the words were free, I regretted them. The creases in his forehead didn’t fade, and his eyes remained locked with mine.
His voice brushed gently against my mind, It doesn’t require touch anymore, does it?
I sucked in air and took a step back, dropping my books to the floor. They tumbled out of my hands, and made a loud slapping sound as they fell. The hallways were empty now, and no other sounds diminished the noise. Shaking my head, I said, “No. It can’t do that.”
Collin took a step toward me, his hands outstretched for me, but he quickly jammed them in his pockets. “It does. It already has.”
Eyes wide with panic, my heart raced wildly in my chest. I trusted Collin, he was one of the few people I did trust, but I didn’t want this. It would ruin everything. Shaking my head, I still couldn’t accept what he was telling me, what I knew to be true. “No. No, it can’t—we have to touch. It can’t just work without that. It can’t.” Hysteria was creeping into my voice. I hated that it was there, but I was in a constant state of emotional overload for too long. I couldn’t force it away.
“I know you liked my touch before. I know the sensation didn’t freak you out, and that you didn’t take a mind-dive.” He took a step closer to me, carefully. Slowly, like I might run. “Ask me something. Something you didn’t say out loud during this conversation. Something towards the end. Something that you thought, but didn’t say.”
A chill settled on my flesh that had nothing to do with the temperature. Vulnerability washed over me. He couldn’t know. I didn’t think it. I barely thought it. I finally spoke, asking the question that terrified me, “Why do I really think I can’t have both?”
Collin inched closer to me, and wound a long curl around his fingers, careful not to touch me. He kept his fingers there while he spoke, “Because you don’t want to fall in love. Not if you can prevent it, because the pain of losing him would be unbearable. You’ve decided it’s better to not love. Losing your sister almost destroyed you.” His eyes met mine and didn’t falter when he said, “It’s not that you can’t have both—it’s that you don’t want both. You just want to survive.”
Trembling, my heartbeat roared in my ears. He articulated the reason I couldn’t bring myself to say. The excuses I made for pushing people away. It was fear—cold, raw fear that propelled me into survival mode. And I stayed there, too afraid to come back.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Eric was smart enough not to ask what happened. We drove in silence. I watched him navigate the mid-day traffic. His perfectly combed hair framed his face. There was a faint smile on his lips. It was always there. He didn’t flip people off, he didn’t curse, and he didn’t lie. Me—on
the other hand—I wasn’t so good. I lied. A lot. Still watching him, I slumped back into the seat.
Eric caught me looking at him out of the corner of his eye. “What?”
I shook my head, looking away, “Nothing. I just never noticed before—you’re a good guy. Like good good. You’re just… you. I never noticed, but then, I didn’t notice a lot of things.” My mind started to drift, as I watched the world blur by out the window. The last year of my life was pretty much a haze. I missed a lot of stuff.
“You noticed enough. And don’t worry about today. I have to meet with Julia, you talk with Al, and then we can go to the gym and practice some more.” The church had an old gym, complete with circa 1945 gym equipment. It was a relic, but it provided a safe place for me to learn. Valefar couldn’t enter churches. Since the gym was attached to the church, we were safe.
“Thanks Eric,” I pulled my curls over my shoulder, and away from my face. “So, what do you think Sister Al wants with me?”
