Carnival

by D. M. Thornton

  “I held his hands.”

  “Stop,” I order.

  “I looked into his eyes.”

  “Good God, please stop,” I beg.

  “And as I was about to say I do, do you know what came out of my mouth instead?”

  My head is shaking, not wanting to hear it. For crying out loud, someone put me out of my misery. I’d give my vocal chords right now to shoot up enough to need Narcan to revive me. In fact, don’t revive me. I’d much rather die than listen to how she told him she…

  “Instead of saying I do, I said I don’t.”

  I choke on my own spit and wipe at my face. “You didn’t?”

  Piper shakes her head. “Fletcher isn’t the one I’m in love with.”

  “He’s not?” I whisper.

  “There has only been one man I’ve ever been in love with. It took me a long time to come to terms with that. Lord knows I tried to fight it. I admitted it on that Ferris wheel and got my heart broken. So, naturally, I did everything in my power to mask those feelings. But then you had to show back up in my life, and as much as I tried not to allow it to surface, love won. I’d risk a thousand broken hearts to tell you one more time how much I love you. You are nothing like your father, Oliver. You’re kind and caring. Funny and gentle. So, I’m here.” Piper slips from the bed and sinks to her knees. “And I’ll beg if I have to.” Piper clenches my pant legs. “We could spend our whole lives blaming each other for leaving. But I don’t want to, do you?”

  I step away, my back hitting the door. The distance is enough to pull her grip from my pants. Her head falls, defeated. Tired. Bruised. She takes the space as a diss to her and her attempt to mend what is broken. Nothing is broken, just fractured. Maybe we’re not meant to be together. As painful as it is to admit, maybe it’s never worked between us because we’re toxic for one another.

  Piper starts to get to her feet, but I fall to my knees in front of her. With hesitation, I brush my fingertips ever-so-gently over Piper’s cheek. If it hurts, she doesn’t show it, so I bring my other hand up to the other side and delicately cradle her face in my hands. I tilt her head so she will look at me. Eyes locked. Silent. Seconds, minutes pass. We take the time to look at each other. Really look into each other’s souls. We both want the same thing, but which one of us is going to make the first move? Should the first move even be taken?

  She licks her lips and every thought going through my head vanishes. If Piper is as toxic for me as my drug of choice, I’d much rather suffer from her side effects than from a shot of heroin. If I overdose on Piper, don’t bother with the Narcan. Her being the death of me is how I want to go.

  It would be easy to throw it all back in her face, give her a small taste of the anger and pain I’ve been in. The kind of pain that almost had me relapse. But what good would that do? I’m a grown ass man who needs to own my own shit. I’ve made detrimental mistakes and have suffered the consequences, and as easy as it would be to stay mad and point fingers, it will get us nowhere.

  There are things that are out of our control. We have to learn to ride the wave and brace for the occasional fall off the board. But we always get back up. We try again.

  Holding Piper’s face in my hands, I bend enough to be able to place my lips over hers. She sinks, but I pull her up, deepening the kiss. I straighten my back, towering over her. I dip my head and tilt her just enough to get better access to her mouth. Her lips part and my tongue darts in on a moan. The reposition doesn’t go smoothly and when I try to shift my head to the opposite side, our noses knock together, causing Piper to cry out and cover my face with her hands.

  “Oh fuck. I’m sorry.” I’m tugging at her hands, but she slaps me away.

  “Dude, where did you learn to kiss?” she says, deadpan.

  “I’m so sorry. Good God, I’m such a dumbass.” My hands won’t stop shaping around her face, wanting to touch her but afraid to. She ducks out of the way, looking at me like I’ve lost my mind, and I drop my hands in my lap.

  Piper snorts. “Well, I’m not going to argue with that.” She glances down at her fingers then gently pads the surrounding area of her nose, careful not to touch the bandage covering the stitches over the bridge. Her lips creep up into a smile. “We might need to practice this a few times so you can up your game.” A tiny smile plays on her lips.

  I laugh, relieved. “I’m game for all the practice. As far as everything else, I can assure you, I’m exceptional in all other departments.” I smirk, shifting my eyes below my waist.

  Piper rolls her eyes and giggles, her laugh turning into a painful squeak. She winces, which causes her to laugh harder.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I chuckle.

  “It hurts so bad.” Piper dabs at the wetness around her eyes. “I can’t help it. The pain is making me laugh.”

  I shake my head. “You’re so weird.”

  She fans her face with her hands and blows out a breath, trying to calm her giggles. “Yeah, but at least I’m a good kisser. That’s more than I can say for you.” She pokes me in the chest.

  It’s a challenge I accept all too seriously. I grab her finger before she can pull it back and yank her into me. Piper’s breath catches when I take her face in my palms and leave a taste of my mouth on her lips. I play with her bottom lip, nipping at it with my teeth before licking the sting away. Laughter is replaced with a quiet moan as our tongues find their way to each other. I explore and devour the softness of her plump lips, dragging mine back and forth over hers. They’re familiar, yet there is so much more to explore. And like the first time we kissed, my insides twitch and my skin flushes with heat. I could kiss these lips all day, every day.

  Forever.

  Thirty

  Piper

  Quick breaths, heavy panting, what starts off as slow delicate kisses becomes a maul-fest of epic proportions. I try to keep up with Oliver’s hunger, fueled only by adrenaline, but my face is throbbing and I’m close to passing out. The medicine I took a little bit ago hasn’t knocked out the pain but has me fuzzy, and I’m leaning more and more into Oliver to keep from falling over. When I can no longer hold my weight, I collapse against his chest with my forehead smacking his bare chest. The tip of my nose rests between his mildly sculpted pecs, giving the slightest canal for my battered face. The cushion over my nose gives some padding, but my sensitive flesh is hyperaware of every touch not even the strongest of narcotics can touch, and I whine from the pain.

  Oliver takes my shoulders and pushes me back, holding me up on my knees. “Um, I think we better resume extracurricular activities until further notice.” With a hoist, he stands me on my feet. “Let’s get you to bed, little bird.”

  After Oliver covers me with the blanket, he lays down facing me so our mouths graze each other. His lips are soft pillows, plush and dreamy, and I savor the kisses I can feel before I’m no longer one with my body. Funny how the pain medicine only takes the edge off the pain, but I’m too numb to enjoy the feathered kisses Oliver’s leaving on my lips. It’s a travesty really.

  “Piper?” the rich purr of Oliver’s voice vibrates against the corner of my mouth.

  My eyes flutter, trying to open, but the heaviness keeps them closed. “Hm?”

  “I love you,” he whispers. “I always have.”

  Reality is questionable at the moment. The words, “I love you,” are vocalized in my head, and I’m almost certain I say them out loud. But it’s possible the words stay trapped inside my mouth, wanting desperately to be transcribed before I’m succumbed to the greedy claws of the pain killer I swallowed. I can’t be sure of words thought or spoken. What I am for sure of is the tender first stages of sleep I’m in.

  It’s dark when my eyes flutter open, and I can hardly make out Oliver’s silhouette. I’ve never had to pee so bad in my life. If I don’t get up, my bladder very well might explode. I take each movement off the bed as smoothly and quietly as I can, and since I don’t know my way around the bus, I keep my hands out in f
ront of me to protect my face from any further damage.

  My hands fumble around the walls of the bathroom until I find the light switch. The first glance of my face has me jumping back, clutching the neck of my shirt. The person looking back at me through the mirror is not me. Nothing about my face is recognizable. A bandage is taped to my overly swollen nose and dark purple bruises spread from the inner crease of my eyes all across my crusted bloody cheeks. My hair is matted to the side of my head and there are streaks of dried blood down my neck. I’m tore the fuck up.

  I notice the shower and strip out of my stained clothes, stepping into the tiny space. The warmth feels good against my skin, and I watch the clear water turn a brownish-red as it twirls down the drain. I squirt soap into my palm and bring my hand up to my nose, sniffing slowly to not cause more pain to my face. My senses are tickled with citrus and mint. It smells like Oliver. I inhale the scent a few times before I wash my body with my sudsy hands.

  There’s no conditioner, so I have to use the cheap shampoo twice while running my fingers through the knots from the pieces of hair that got caught in blood around my face. I make do with what I have to use, knowing my hair will be frizzy and coarse like straw, but it’s better than nothing. Taking a warm shower after a full day and night of travel and a trip to the emergency room is a Godsend.

  I turn the shower off and stand in the stall, wondering what I’m going to do now. I didn’t think this through, having no towel and no fresh clothes to use. The only towel I find is the hand towel hanging from the rack off the wall, but the thought of drying my clean skin with a dirty hand towel has me cringing.

  The mat at my feet catches the drops of water running off my body, but my hair is still dripping water even after I squeeze it. I get lucky and find a single towel under the sink. It’s the first time I’m happy to be vertically challenged. The towel is barely big enough to wrap around me. The girls are covered, but the lower part of my ass cheeks are peeking out from the bottom. I’ll make do, cinching the two ends at the top with a tight fist while tugging down the backside.

  Poking my head out of the door, I check to see if anyone is awake. The coast is clear, so I tiptoe out of the bathroom and take a step back toward Oliver’s room to steal some of his clothes, but I hear someone clear their throat behind me. I freeze, afraid to move. The towel is stretched so tight one wrong move and I’m going to lose my grip and it will end up on the floor.

  “Need some clothes?” Luna asks.

  I sigh in relief. Turning around, I whisper, “Yes, please.”

  Luna reaches under the seat and pulls out my duffle bag, rummaging through it then tossing my clothes at my feet. She smirks at me while taking a sip of her coffee, knowing I’m in a precarious position. If I bend at all, the towel will slip from my hands. I glare at her and take a quick glance around the bus, checking that all the doors to each bunk and room are closed.

  I kneel down, keeping my lower half covered the best I can with the towel while I put on my bra and t-shirt. Another scan of the bus and I dump the towel, swiftly putting on my panties and my capri joggers. I stand and adjust the waist of the pants, tying the drawstring so they don’t fall down, then flip my head so I can wrap the towel around my hair to dry.

  “Thanks.” I grab my dirty clothes from the floor of the bathroom and put them in the laundry bag Luna is holding out to me.

  “We’ll go to a laundromat at the next stop.”

  I sit down at the table and wrap my hands around the cup of coffee Luna’s poured me. “Where’s the next stop?”

  “Philly.” Luna answers then dives right into the hard questions I’ve been dreading since I left Fiji. “Where the hell have you been? Why didn’t you call? What did that motherfucker do to you?”

  There is not enough coffee in the world that can prepare me for the conversation I’m about to have with Luna. I hold the liquid in my mouth then swallow, taking that extra second before I start answering all the questions. “I’ve been in Fiji. He took my phone. He didn’t do anything to me.”

  “Fiji?” Luna’s face grows red. “You went to Fiji with him?”

  “Not voluntarily, no.”

  The only thing keeping Luna from shouting is the fact it’s early and everyone else is sleeping. “He took you against your will?” She slams her cup on the table. “Sounds more like a vacation than an abduction.”

  Luna’s outburst doesn’t faze me, she has always been high-strung and dramatic. “Yes, Luna, against my will. Jesus, do you think I would actually go with him?”

  Luna shrugs, a silent response for her thinking I would.

  With a big breath, I start from the top and explain everything that happened, not leaving out a single detail. Luna doesn’t interrupt, letting me get everything out. She’s fuming, but remains calm until I tell her how close we came to…

  “You almost fucked him!”

  I put my finger over my lips. “Shh.” I glance over my shoulder to make sure a door doesn’t open. That’s one detail I don’t want Oliver to find out. “Luna, please. Keep that between us. Okay?”

  Luna’s eyes dart around the room. “What made you stop?”

  “Oliver.” I bow my head. “All I kept thinking about was Oliver.”

  She’s as alarmed as I was about the phone message he left me, and when she said she didn’t believe it, I replayed the message for her. Luna sits quietly, thinking.

  “He was fucked up, Pipe. Like, bad.”

  “I know.”

  “You don’t.” Luna pushes her mug away from her and sinks back into the seat. “Nash found Oliver in the bathroom with a needle in his arm.”

  I cover my mouth on a gasp and my eyes well up with tears. “Did he…?”

  “Thankfully, no. But, Pipe, those days prior to that, he was more drunk than he was sober and could hardly function enough to finish his shows. It was bad. Real bad.”

  “I didn’t mean for this to happen.” I cry.

  Luna’s hand reaches across the table and takes mine. “I know.”

  My voice trembles. “I almost married him, Luna. I was two words away from marrying Fletcher all out of spite.”

  She scoots around the bench seat and wraps an arm around me, pulling me into her side. “But you didn’t. And now you’re here and none of that matters.”

  Luna kisses my head when I rest it on her shoulder. Crying does nothing for my head. The pain throbs from the bridge of my nose all the way up to the top of my skull. As much as I hate taking the pills, I need more pain medicine. “My head is killing me, Luna Bear. I think I better go lay back down for a bit.”

  “Of course. Go rest.”

  I kiss Luna’s cheek. “Love you, seester.”

  Oliver is still sleeping, so I take a pain pill then slip under the covers with my back to him as quietly as I can, careful not to wake him. I’m not successful.

  His hand snakes over my stomach and pulls me into his chest. He buries his nose in my hair and takes a deep breath. “Mm. You smell good.” Oliver’s voice is deep and raspy against my ear, causing me to shiver.

  I tilt my head back slightly. “I smell like you.”

  He sniffs my hair again. “I like it, me all over you.” Another whiff.

  I roll over so I’m facing him. “I’m sorry.”

  Oliver kisses my chin. “Stop saying that.”

  “I can’t. It’s because of me you almost relapsed.”

  He rolls over on to his back and rubs his face with his palm. “Fuck.” He groans. “Who told you? Luna?”

  “She caught me coming out of the shower. I told her everything that happened and she told me everything that happened here. Don’t be mad at her.”

  “It wasn’t her place to tell.”

  I prop myself up on my elbow. “Would you have told me?”

  Oliver drops his head to the side and looks at me. His silence is telling. “Eventually,” he finally says. He’s not convincing.

  “This will never work if we don’t communicate. If we’re not
honest with each other. We made that mistake when we were younger. Let’s not make it again.”

  “Agreed.”

  “I almost slept with Fletcher,” I blurt. Practice what you preach, I suppose, though I regret being so forward before the idea of communicating settles. Oliver rolls away from me and sits at the edge of the bed. “I didn’t. I stopped it before anything happened.”

  “I’m so relieved.” Oliver doesn’t sound relieved and he surely doesn’t act like it either. He storms out of the room and locks himself in the bathroom.

  Drama is for high schoolers and I’ve been out of high school for a while. This is typically where one of us runs away, hiding from uncomfortable reality and pointing fingers in the blame game. The moving vehicle is the only thing keeping us from repeating the same bad habit. This time, I’m going to wait it out, give Oliver a chance to process. If we can talk this out like two adults in a committed relationship, we’ll be all right. If we can’t, well, it’s better to know now so we can move on and start the next chapters of our lives. Separate from each other.

  Thirty One

  Oliver

  I punch my fist into the counter of the sink. “Fuck.” Goddamn, she almost slept with him. Piper came close to giving it up to that prick. I splash cold water on my face. The moment reality sinks in is the devastating moment I’m forced to come to terms with the fact Fletcher had Piper before I ever did. I gave up my chance like an idiot. All me and Piper had was a passionate kiss and an admission of feelings. Piper and Fletcher had a relationship, had a life together, made love to one another. He’s had her, not me. It’s not fair.

  Mad, no…wrecked. I’m pissed at myself for walking away when I did, leaving like a coward. I claimed Piper the day we met, but I let another man have her, too selfish to give her what she needed. What I promised. I ran like a bitch. I let her heart go to someone else.

  There are so many things I could have done differently. I could have stopped at Piper’s house. I could have picked her up and taken her with me, shared my dream with her. But I didn’t. Instead, I drove north without telling a soul, too wrapped up inside my own head to worry or care about anyone else. I never called her, never came home. When she was in front of me in line at the coffee shop, I knew right then and there I couldn’t let her go again. The odds have not been in our favor, but it’s now or never. I’ve waited my whole life to make Piper mine, and this time, I’m not going to run. No, this time, I’m going to fight for her. For us.