Soulstruck

by Natasha Sinel

  He leaned toward me and sniffed.

  I swatted at his chest.

  “And you don’t seem particularly annoying,” Reed said, scooting even closer to me on the bench. He reached into my candy bag and pulled out a green Swedish Fish, then immediately dropped it back in the bag and rummaged until he found a red one, his fingers scraping my palm through the paper bag.

  “I guess I’ll have to live with ‘not particularly annoying,’” I said. “You, on the other hand …”

  I crumpled the top of the bag and held it to my chest. I gave him a sideways smile—my best attempt at flirting.

  “Are you alone a lot because of your mom?” he asked, his tone more serious. “The lightning-strike support group and her thing about soul mates? Do people know about that?”

  I paused. I didn’t realize he knew about the soul mates, but of course he did. He was in her support group. I touched my nose, like “ding ding ding” in charades. You got it.

  “I could see that, I guess,” Reed said.

  He put his arm on the back of the bench behind my head and stretched his legs out in front of him. He was close enough now that I could feel the heat from his arm by my neck, even though he wasn’t touching me.

  “Yeah, she’s a little nuts,” I said.

  “I don’t think so.” I could feel his eyes on me, so I turned to meet them. Fire blue. “She’s passionate. Not nuts.”

  “Do you think she knows what she’s talking about? Do you believe it all?” I asked, letting my gaze drift down to his fingers resting on his lap. He tapped his jeans lightly with his pointer finger. Over and over and over.

  “I believe that she’s the kind of person who would take in someone like me, no questions asked.”

  “Yes, I know she’s a saint and all,” I said.

  Reed snorted.

  “You know what I mean,” I continued. “Do you believe the things she says? About soul mates? That she can see people who are meant to be together?”

  Reed let his head fall back and looked up at the sky, which was gray and white, to match the faded sand that surrounded the edge of the concrete.

  “I believe in her ability. I don’t think she’s making it up. Last year? Before everything? I would’ve said no way. But now, I believe her.”

  “Did she tell you? About you?” I asked. I immediately wished I could take it back. It was too personal. The question skirted too close to whatever was going on, or not going on, between Reed and me.

  He touched my right shoulder with the hand that was behind me. Just a little touch—a flick—almost imperceptible. But I felt it throughout my entire body.

  “I didn’t ask,” Reed said.

  “Oh,” I said, trying not to let the disappointment sound in my voice. What was I expecting him to say? You, Rachel. She made me swear not to tell you, but she told me that I’m meant for you, that we’re meant to be together. You are my soul mate.

  Stupid, ridiculous me. Stupid fantasies.

  “What about you?” he asked. “Has she ever told you yours?”

  I shook my head no. “She won’t tell me anything about anything. Ever.”

  “You want to know?” Reed whispered, leaning so close to me, I could feel his warm breath on my cheek.

  I turned my face so that we were looking right at each other, our noses just a couple inches apart. He didn’t flinch. My heart jumped out of my throat.

  Neither of us moved for what felt like minutes. I could sense something happening—my breathing sped up and he swallowed. I looked at his mouth.

  And then I couldn’t take it anymore.

  I dropped the bag of candy on my lap, reached my hands around the back of his neck, and pulled his mouth to mine. All my thoughts flew away except I am kissing Reed and he may be the one. This is my first real kiss. His lips feel thinner than I thought they would. Now he is kissing me too and this is the best moment of my life so far. And then no more thoughts. I devoured him. And he was devouring me back.

  Until he pulled away.

  “Holy shit,” he said, and not in a holy shit, you are so amazing way. More like a holy shit, what is wrong with you way. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then turned away from me, looking toward the water.

  I felt the wetness of our kiss evaporate from my lips in the cool air. I wasn’t going to wipe it away like he did. I wanted it to sink in and change everything. I wanted him to be my destiny.

  “I can give you a ride home,” Reed said. He stood and ran his fingers through his hair. But he wouldn’t look at me.

  I couldn’t say a word. Or move.

  He walked toward the van.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  He’d started it. Hadn’t he? I was the one who kissed him, but he was so close to me, and he was flirting. Wasn’t he? He’d kissed me back. He’d definitely kissed me back. His lips and tongue had been just as active as mine. He’d put his hands on either side of my face. I didn’t imagine that.

  I grabbed the bag of candy, letting the crinkly sound of the paper drown out my beating heart. I followed him, waited for him to open the passenger door from the inside, and then I climbed in. He put on some music. The lead singer had a raspy voice that was full of emotion. I focused on the rise and fall of his voice, the guitar, the light drumbeat. I did not focus on the fact that Reed and I were silent the entire way back to the house and that I felt like I was being put in time-out.

  He pulled up our driveway and put the van in park, but he didn’t turn off the engine.

  I opened my mouth to tell him I was sorry.

  “Wait,” he said. And then he softened his voice a little. “I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have done that.”

  Did he mean he shouldn’t have kissed me? Or stopped kissing me?

  He reached over and touched my arm. Just one quick touch.

  “I’ve wanted to, though,” he said. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since you held my hand that day.”

  I was sure he could see my heart pounding through my shirt if he looked.

  “Your mom,” he said. “She kind of made it clear that you’re off limits.”

  “What?” I said, my voice shaking. “What did she say?”

  “After that morning when she saw us on the couch, she said something like ‘If you touch my daughter again, you’re out.’ Actually, that’s pretty much exactly what she said.”

  What. The. Fuck. Mom had never done anything like that before, as far as I knew.

  “That doesn’t sound like her,” I said.

  “It was her. The look on her face is kind of etched in my memory. And I can’t lose this group. Or your mom. I need them. They saved me. I wouldn’t have made it if I hadn’t found them.”

  “I understand,” I said. I understood what he was saying, but I didn’t accept it.

  “Please don’t tell her about this,” he said.

  I nodded and stepped out of the van. I slammed the door before I remembered he didn’t like that, and I ran into the house. I didn’t want Reed to see the tears that flowed freely down my face. I didn’t want Mom to see them, either, so once inside, I pushed off my shoes and tried to walk silently to my room. I heard Mom talking on the phone in the kitchen, so I knew she didn’t notice me.

  TEN

  A kiss that is never tasted, is forever and ever wasted.

  —Billie Holiday

  I let Serena pick out an outfit for me—jeans, not a skirt—and try to pretend I’m excited to go to the beach bonfire party. When we get there, we stand around the fire for a few minutes, scoping out the scene, and then we find a seat on a charred log. There are mostly seniors and juniors here. A lot more guys than girls. I haven’t been to a school party in a while and I forgot how boring they could be. I can tell Serena regrets bringing me. I’m not fun right now. I’m sulky.

  “I’ll get us beers, okay?” Serena says.

  “Do you want me to come with you?” I say, shoving my feet deeper into the sand, which is surprisingly cold.r />
  “It’s okay,” she says. “I’ll be right back.”

  She makes her way to the keg, and I catch a couple guys checking out her butt in her tight jeans. I can’t blame them. It’s one of the nicer butts that exists, but they should try to be less creepy about it. She gets in line at the keg next to Rylin, one of the cheerleaders, and Serena laughs at something she says.

  She has other friends now. She’s been good at still hanging out with Jay and me when she can, but I can feel her slipping away. And if I keep up this broken-heart broody thing, I’m going to lose her.

  I sense someone next to me.

  “Hey, Froggie,” Sawyer Baskin says as he sits down on the log next to me.

  “Hey, Ribbie,” I say.

  It’s dumb. Sawyer and I were lab partners for freshman bio, and we dissected a frog together. And so, the clever nicknames. We have a couple of classes together this year, and we say hi in the halls, but we’ve never really hung out outside of school. He’s junior captain of the lacrosse team, the quarterback of the football team, and I think he plays basketball, too. So, we don’t have a ton in common. He’s been with Lindsay Easton, cheerleading captain, since freshman year. And while I wouldn’t classify her as a mean girl, with Lindsay, you just don’t exist unless you play a sport. I was pretty sure Serena said something about them breaking up in the last couple of days, but I tended to tune out when she talked about cheerleader gossip.

  I watch sparks from the bonfire leap out onto the sand. At that moment, the wind shifts, blowing the smoke from the fire directly at us.

  We cough and turn our heads at the same time, but we turn toward each other and end up bumping noses.

  “Ow,” he says, rubbing his.

  “That was your fault.”

  He laughs. “Okay, I’m willing to accept half the blame, maybe sixty percent because I’m good like that.”

  “That’s very gracious of you.”

  “I saw you walking down by the pier the other day,” Sawyer says.

  I’ve been doing that a lot since Reed left. Taking walks on the pier to stretch my legs and help my scars heal.

  “Yeah?” I say to Sawyer. “You should’ve said hi.”

  He shrugs.

  “You looked like you didn’t want company,” he says.

  He chews on the lip of his cup.

  “Next time you should say hi,” I say, even though he’s right. I didn’t want company.

  We sit for a minute. There’s a pause in the music while the guy playing DJ fiddles with his phone to find the next song. A few people yell at him to hurry up. Then the portable speakers crackle again with hip-hop, but with the increasing wind on the beach, the sound keeps going in and out.

  “Do you want to take a walk?” he asks.

  Something happens in my stomach right then. I don’t know if it’s rising excitement or panic. Why is he asking me to take a walk with him? Does he want something to happen? Do I?

  The angel on one shoulder says, “Do not go for a walk with him. You’re not that stupid. You never even think about Sawyer Baskin.” And the devil says, “Oh, yes, you are that stupid. Because how can you pass up the possibility of hooking up with Sawyer Baskin? Plus, you never know …”

  The devil wins.

  “Sure,” I say.

  Serena wants me to stop sulking, to have fun. She would probably want me to be impulsive right now, see what happens. Sawyer’s cute. He makes me smile. I deserve to have fun. She’s right.

  As we stand, I look over and see that Serena’s still in the keg line, talking and laughing.

  Sawyer and I walk away from the light of the fire. I notice that he looks back once, like he wants to know if anyone saw us walk off together. Another night, I might have taken that as a sign and changed my mind about the whole walk. Tonight, I take it as a sign, but keep going anyway.

  We walk for a minute or two in silence.

  “Lindsay and I broke up,” Sawyer says suddenly.

  “Oh. Are you okay?” I ask.

  He shrugs. His shoulders are kind of hunched over a little in defeat. He seems sad. I know about sad.

  “Yeah.”

  Now that we’re a good distance away from the fire, it’s dark. The moon lights up the water a bit, but I really can’t see much of Sawyer’s features at all.

  “Yeah,” he says again. “I guess I’m okay. It was time for us to break up—we’ve been together for a long time. It’s like we haven’t ever been with other people, you know? And I wonder a lot if, you know, if we just stay together out of habit.”

  And then he sniffles. And I know he’s fighting tears. And that’s when I know I’m a goner. Dammit. Boys’ tears are like catnip.

  “Hey,” I say quietly.

  He stops walking and looks out toward the water. He probably doesn’t want me to look at his face if he’s actually crying.

  “I had a bad breakup kind of recently, too,” I say. “It does get better.”

  Despite being out of school for a couple of days after my fall, Serena kept the details of my breakup with Reed quiet. People know I fell down stairs but they don’t know the whole story.

  Sawyer quickly swipes at his eyes with the back of his hand.

  “Oh my god,” he says. “I am—shit. I’m the biggest baby.”

  I press my hand against his back, between his shoulder blades. For one second, I allow myself to think of Reed. How I once held him when he cried, when he leaned his forehead against a wall and swore at life. Okay, one second to think about Reed. Only one second. Now stop.

  Then Sawyer turns around to face me and puts his arms around my waist, pulling me into a hug. He puts his face in my hair and then breathes in deeply.

  “I’m seriously so embarrassed right now,” he says.

  I nod so he can feel me understanding him. Yes, I know what he means. He isn’t usually so vulnerable. He’s the quarterback of the football team, the captain of the lacrosse team. He has an image to protect.

  “Don’t be. It’s totally okay,” I say.

  I’m aware that it’s sort of weird that we’re hugging. I’ve probably never touched Sawyer Baskin before. Maybe a few high fives when we got something right in bio. But the hug continues past a normal amount of hugging time and suddenly I feel really awkward. I have absolutely zero idea if he just wants a shoulder to cry on, or if he wants to hook up. And the idea of Sawyer and me together has never occurred to me before.

  “You’re so … small,” he whispers. “Like a little package.”

  I giggle. I think about how I’m small but Lindsay’s tall, and how that must be weird for Sawyer to be hugging me, so different than Lindsay.

  He squeezes more tightly around my waist and lifts me up so I’m eye-level with him, and it’s so unexpected, I yelp.

  He puts me down, and I start laughing uncontrollably because this whole situation is so strange.

  “Okay, that was super weird,” he says, but he’s laughing, too. “I have no clue why I just did that.”

  Laughter is breaking the tension I felt about the hug.

  “So,” he says, and his voice is lower and quieter now that our laughter has died down. “I’m thinking I need to distract you now from how badly I just embarrassed myself.”

  “Um,” I say. “I’m not easily distracted. How do you propose doing that?”

  Now I’m shamelessly flirting. I’m basically looking up at him and batting my eyelashes. I’m practically begging him to kiss me. This whole situation is so odd, but I’m having fun.

  He puts his hands on either side of my waist and then kisses me. A long, slow kiss. It seems like we’re both feeling so much—sadness, vulnerability, and the excitement of a first kiss with someone new. It’s all right there between us. I feel different. I’m calm. I’m not afraid of saying or doing something stupid like I often was with Reed.

  But my subconscious is tugging at me, reminding me of something. An image of Jay and his dimple flashes into my mind. This has nothing to do with Jay, I tell
myself. Just be here. Now. Have fun.

  Sawyer kisses down the side of my neck and I shiver.

  We make out for a long time, figuring out how our mouths work together. He puts his hands, which are cool from the ocean air, up my shirt and he unlatches my bra with ease. He definitely knows what he’s doing, pushing my bra up and touching me in just the right way so that I can barely take how good it feels. His leg is pressed between mine, and I move and rub myself against it.

  A loud burst of laughter comes from the dune behind us, and we pull apart quickly, but it’s too dark to see anyone and the laughter continues, the sound moving away from us.

  Sawyer pulls his hands from under my shirt and rests them on my hips. He leans his forehead against mine and smiles.

  “Well, did it work? Have you forgotten about all that other stuff from before?”

  “What stuff?” I say.

  “Ah, very good. My patent-pending amnesia potion works then. I’ll make millions.”

  He kisses me on the lips, but it’s an ending not a continuation.

  I re-fasten my bra.

  We walk back toward the party.

  When we get close to the bonfire, he drops my hand and moves a few inches away from me. Of course he wants to keep this quiet. If Lindsay just broke up with him, it’s really too soon for him to be moving on. We needed each other tonight, but just tonight.

  He looks at me and smiles kind of apologetically. I smile back, innocent like What? We’re good.

  “Thanks for listening,” he says quietly. “I hope you don’t think crying was just a ploy so I could kiss you.”

  “What are you talking about?” I say. “Someone cried?”

  He laughs, and I do too.

  “Are you okay to drive?” I ask Serena as we walk up the dune to her car.

  “Yeah. I only had half a beer. It was gross.”

  In the car, we’re both quiet. I replay the kiss with Sawyer in my head.

  “I can’t believe you haven’t told me anything yet,” Serena says.

  “What?” I say.

  “I saw you go off with Sawyer, and I saw you come back all smiley with your hair messed up.” She doesn’t sound excited to hear about it, though. She sounds annoyed.