Losing Me Finding You

by Natalie Ward

  “Mmmm,” he moans, his eyes still closed.

  “Ben.”

  He lays there, his body still curled around mine and his eyes closed. Ben’s sister has this uncanny ability of finding us at the most inopportune moments. It’s like she’s actually trying to stop us from taking this thing between us further. If she was older or had any idea, I’d be tempted to say something to her.

  “Ben,” I repeat. “Are you listening to me?”

  His eyes open. “I need to take a shower,” he moans, finally lifting his head to look at me.

  I swallow hard as the image of a naked Ben standing under the warm water, suddenly flashes before me. “Yeah,” I whisper, my voice betraying me. “You’re kinda sweaty.”

  Ben sits up and presses a hard kiss to my mouth. My body shudders as I wonder if he’s going to ignore his sister and start this up again. But then he pulls back and says, “It’s not the sweat I need to take care of, Evie.”

  “What?” I ask, swallowing the lump of desire that’s suddenly lodged itself in my throat. Ben stares back at me and it’s like time, everything around us, freezes. I’m trapped in the look he’s giving me, the one that’s filled with want and lust and so much more. “Ben,” I whisper, my eyes on his. “What do you need to take care of?”

  Ben stares at me for a full minute, not saying anything.

  Then taking my hand, he slides it back into the front of his track pants and into his crotch, right where it was just a few minutes ago. “This,” is all he says.

  “Ben,” I whisper, wishing I could keep my hand right there, or better still, pull his pants all the way off.

  “I need you to go downstairs, Evie,” Ben says, his voice strained. “Go downstairs so I can take care of this before I do something else.”

  I swallow hard. “What else?” I whisper, leaning towards him so my lips are resting against his.

  Ben quickly pulls back, standing now, so he’s staring down at me, our bodies no longer touching. There is no mistaking everything that I’ve done to him though, it’s right there in front of me. As I stare up at him, I’m torn with wanting to keep going and knowing we really shouldn’t. Ben’s parents are so good to me, letting me hang out here whenever I want to, feeding me and never asking for anything in return. And as much as I want this to continue, as much as I want to do so much more to Ben right now, I know we shouldn’t. That we can’t.

  “Go, Evie,” he says, taking another step back.

  “What else, Ben?” I ask him again, my eyes still on his as I force myself to stand.

  I watch as Ben backs towards the door, the strain of what almost happened, and what we both know was very easily about to keep happening, written all over his face. Just as he opens it and I know he’s about to leave, he says, “You, Eva. So I don’t pull you into the shower and do you.”

  And as he walks out the door, I feel myself sinking to the floor again. A wave of immense longing, washing over me. Not just at what he said, but also the way he said it. The way he looked at me when he did.

  What I wouldn’t give for that to happen.

  23rd December 1992

  Sixteen years old

  “God, I wish you could just come with us,” Ben says, pulling me against his chest.

  I bury my face against him, wishing the exact same thing. “I know,” I mumble against his jumper. “Me too.”

  “I can’t even believe I have to go,” he murmurs, his face buried against my hair. “I’m eighteen for fuck’s sake, I should not be holidaying with my family.”

  I smile, knowing this is really his parents’ last-ditch attempt to hang on to their son. “You know it’s only because they know you’ll be leaving home soon,” I tell him. “Indulge them, Ben, they’re your parents.”

  “I’d rather indulge you,” he says, nuzzling against me. It makes me laugh, the prickles of his chin brushing against my temple. “Are you going to be okay, though?” Ben asks, pulling back so he can look at me. “Really?”

  I plaster a smile on my face. “Sure, I’ll be fine,” I tell him. “Well, except for the missing you part.”

  “I’m going to miss you too, babe,” he says, his hands cradling my face.

  “I know,” I say, trying to smile up at him.

  “It just doesn’t seem right to go away like this,” he continues. “I barely get enough time with you as it is and I hate leaving when I know you’re still around, when you haven’t…”

  He doesn’t say the words but I know exactly what he’s talking about. It already feels like we have so little time together as it is. Never really knowing how long it’s going to last for, because even though we know exactly when I’m going to disappear now, neither of us knows when I’m going to come back.

  And what if one day I never come back?

  “I’ll still be here when you get back, Ben,” I say, forcing the smile to stay on my face. I don’t want to put these thoughts in his head before he leaves; it’s bad enough that I already carry them with me. “And I’ll be here waiting for you, always.”

  Ben’s thumbs brush over my cheeks, his eyes holding mine as he slowly leans in and presses a kiss to my lips. “You better be,” he whispers.

  “Come on, Ben,” his dad suddenly shouts. “I need you to help me bring these cases down.”

  “Fuck,” he says, pulling back. “I’m sorry, babe.”

  I smile as I reach up, run my fingers through his hair. “It’s okay, really. Have a good time okay and I’ll see you when you get back on the fifteenth, right?”

  Ben nods as he kisses me again. “Yes, the fifteenth,” he says. “So fucking far away.” It is and even though he hasn’t even left yet, I’m already counting down the days until he comes back. “You’ve got the keys for our house right, everything’s sorted?” he asks.

  I nod, stepping back so we don’t just stand here forever. “I do. I’ll check the mail and feed the cat, promise.”

  “And stay here whenever you want to,” Ben says, his face serious as he steps towards me and pulls me back into his arms.

  “I’ll be okay, Ben,” I say, looking up at him. “Promise.”

  I can tell he doesn’t believe me, his arms tightening around me and pulling me even closer. “I mean it, Evie. Anytime you’re scared or don’t feel safe, I want you to come and stay here. Anytime.”

  I nod, trying to convince him. I know he’s talking about my parents. I don’t spend many of my waking hours at home, especially after the fire and Ben finding me again. It still drives him crazy what happened that night. I think deep down, a part of him blames himself, as though he somehow didn’t do enough to protect me. It’s crazy because until that fire happened, I didn’t even remember him. I might not like the parents I have in this life, but at least in some strange way they gave Ben back to me.

  “Promise me you will, Eva,” he says again.

  I can’t help smiling now, knowing he means business when he calls me that. “I promise,” I whisper, pressing up on my toes so I can kiss him again. “I’ll even sleep naked in your bed when I do,” I add with a smile.

  Ben groans as he mumbles, “Tease,” before pressing his mouth hard against mine.

  8th January 1993

  Sixteen years old

  “You are an ungrateful little bitch, you know that?” my dad shouts, reaching into the fridge to grab a beer before slamming it shut.

  I back up against the counter, my fingers knotting together as I try to work out how I can get myself out of this one. All I asked was whether there was any bread so I could make something to eat.

  “Why don’t you get a fucking job, buy your own bread?” he spits and I shiver at the look he gives me.

  “I’m sixteen,” I say, knowing this is a mistake. “And in school.”

  “Sixteen!” my dad shouts. “Sixteen! Do you know what I was doing at sixteen?” I shake my head, too afraid to say what I already know the answer to. I watch as he gestures towards my mother who’s sitting at the kitchen table nursing her own beer.
“I was supporting her arse while she was knocked up with you,” he says, pointing at me now.

  I watch as his beer spills, soaking the front of his shirt. He barely notices though, he’s already half drunk, having been drinking all day. That’s why there’s no bread, because all their welfare money went towards buying more beer.

  “It wasn’t my fault,” my mum slurs, standing on wobbly legs. “Was hers.”

  She’s walking towards me now and I’m frozen to the floor. I don’t understand how a simple request for bread has escalated into such a mess. I know what comes next and as I brace myself against the kitchen counter, I force my eyes to stay open, to watch her.

  “Was the pair of you,” my dad grunts as he lowers himself into his seat. But I don’t hear anything else after that. All I feel is the sharp sting of pain as my mother’s hand connects with my face. I’m not sure if it’s a punch or a slap, it doesn’t really matter. And when I don’t move, when I force myself to keep staring at her, I watch as she does it again, harder this time.

  Somewhere in the background, my dad laughs and it’s in that moment, that my eyes fill with tears and I know I have to get the hell out of here. Tonight isn’t just going to be a one-shot deal; tonight it’s become a game.

  It rarely goes this way and usually requires some strange combination of a lot of alcohol and the pair of them getting along for once. When that happens, the anger and aggression they always seem to have isn’t inflicted on each other, but instead, it’s dished out to me.

  I blink hard, trying to stop the tears from falling. I can’t show any weakness towards them, no matter what.

  “Do you think it was my fault?” my mum asks me, swaying as she tries to stand. I shake my head and bite my lip before I blurt out the truth. “That’s right,” she says, taking a swig. It seems to steady her, as though the alcohol is the fuel she needs to focus all of her anger and energy in one cohesive way. “It was yours,” she adds on, before reaching out and hitting me a third time.

  This time the force throws me back. My eyes finally close as my head hits the cupboard behind me and it takes a second before I realise that I’m still conscious. I really need to get out of here.

  When I open my eyes, there are stars in front of them, but I can still make out my parents as they share a laugh, a mutual humour at my expense. I use the moment of distraction to run from the room, catch the end of my father’s, “Get the fuck back here, you little bitch,” before I slam the front door behind me.

  Then I leg it down the street towards the safest place I know, grateful that I’ve still got the keys in my pocket from when I stopped off this afternoon. My parents don’t know where Ben lives; they barely even know he exists. They’ve only ever seen him over at our house on two separate occasions, but that was more than enough.

  The first wasn’t too bad because both of us were walking out the front door as my dad came home from wherever he usually spends his days. He’d merely looked at us and grunted, “You better not knock her up,” as we’d walked past. I was embarrassed, but Ben was pissed and the second, more recent time, only fuelled that anger even more.

  It had been one of those rare days when we’d gone back to my house after I’d finished one of my finals. Rachel had had a bunch of friends at their place and for once, I knew my parents weren’t going to be home, so we went there for a change. Ben and I had had the place ourselves. Total peace and quiet.

  Of course we’d used this alone time to do what we spent most of our alone time doing these days. And for once, we thought we were actually going to get further than we had in a long time. Of course the minute my parents had stumbled in, we knew that wasn’t going to be the case.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” my dad had yelled, catching us on the couch, half undressed.

  Ben had immediately jumped up and put his body between mine and my dad’s in a way that suggested he wasn’t going to let him anywhere near me. I’d tried to get in front of him, at the same time as I was doing up my jeans. The only saving grace in all of this was that my parents were drunk and so probably didn’t fully understand what they were really seeing. Unfortunately this also made them very unpredictable.

  “You little whore,” my mum had slurred as she’d walked into the room, catching me pulling my jumper over my head as I threw Ben’s at him.

  I felt Ben tense in front of me and as much as I would’ve loved to have let him unleash on my parents, I knew we had to get out of there. “Come on,” I’d said to him. “Let’s go.”

  It had taken a minute or two to actually get Ben out of the room, but it didn’t stop my dad from picking up an astray and throwing it at us as we’d walked past. I remember hearing it smash as it hit the wall beside the front door and then we were running back to Ben’s house, no longer caring that Rachel and all her friends were there.

  “Evie, fuck,” Ben had said, trying to get me to slow down. “Is that the kind of shit you have to put up with from them?” I’d dragged him down the footpath, not wanting to admit that was actually pretty standard behaviour from my parents.

  “Evie, stop,” he’d said, having different ideas.

  “What?” I’d asked, turning to face him. I could see the anger that was curling through him, the shock on his face at what he’d just seen unfold with his own eyes.

  “Is that what your mum and dad are like all the time?” he’d asked. I bit my lip as I’d tried not to admit that actually, sometimes it was a lot worse. “Baby,” he said, his voice softening as he stepped closer. “Talk to me.”

  I nodded, whispering, “Sorry,” as he brushed his fingers across my cheek, before he pulled me into his arms.

  “Jesus, Evie, you don’t need to be sorry for anything,” he’d said, holding me to him. I’d spent the rest of the day at Ben’s house, only sneaking back into mine when it was past midnight and I was sure they’d have both passed out.

  Now though, I was running towards no one. Ben and his family were still away at his grandparents and wouldn’t be back for another week. Luckily I had the key and a promise that I could always stay there, whenever I needed to.

  When I finally reach their house, it takes me two attempts just to get the door unlocked and my hands are still shaking as I disable the alarm. Once I have, I lock myself in, reactivating the perimeter alarm and finally breathing a sigh of relief. I’m safe here.

  I walk into the living room where Fluffy, their cat, is curled up asleep on the couch. I scratch her head, earning me a purr, before I walk out and slowly climb the stairs to Ben’s room.

  The achingly familiar scent of him hits me as soon as I open his bedroom door. Even though my heart surges with longing, I know he isn’t going to be back anytime soon. Kicking off my shoes, I walk over to his bed and curl myself up under his duvet, my nose pressing into his pillow as I try to breathe him in.

  I don’t cry and I’m not sure how long I lie here for, but eventually I fall asleep, safe in the knowledge that I am surrounded by Ben, and my parents can never find me.

  9th January 1993

  Sixteen years old

  “Evie,” I hear Ben whisper.

  I must be dreaming, but right now I don’t care. I’m wrapped in a warm blanket, surrounded by Ben’s smell. His fingers are running through my hair and I swear I just heard him speak.

  “Evie, baby, wake up.”

  My eyes open and I immediately realise I’m in Ben’s room, in his bed. When I roll over, he’s sitting beside me and I’m so happy to see him that I sit up, instantly awake and totally forgetting about the reason I’m here in the first place.

  He’s smiling at me but when he sees my face, that smile quickly disappears. “What the fuck?” he says, his hands coming up to cup my face until he realises he can’t. “What the fuck happened, baby?”

  I duck my head, a little embarrassed even though I have no reason to be. I know this shouldn’t have happened and I know I didn’t deserve it, but it doesn’t make it any easier to deal with. I also know t
hat Ben will know exactly what’s happened and why I am lying in his bed with a bruised face.

  I feel his hand as it slides gently along my other cheek, slowly tilting my head so I have to look at him. “Talk to me, Evie, please,” he begs and I can hear the pain in his voice now. See it written all over his face. I have no idea what he’s doing here; he’s supposed to be at his grandparent’s house.

  I try smiling up at him, even though it hurts. “What are you doing here?” I ask. “You’re not supposed to be back for a few more days.”

  Ben shakes his head at me, as though the reasons why he’s back early don’t matter. “Which one of them did this?” he asks, his voice harder now as he continues to hold my face and stare down at the ugly bruise I know has formed on my left cheek. “Evie?” he says, when I don’t say anything.

  I blink, swallowing hard. “She did,” I whisper.

  Ben’s hand slides to the back of my head as he pulls me close and wraps his other arm around my shoulders. I melt into his body, resting the cheek she didn’t hit, against his chest as he holds me. He feels so warm and safe and despite not ever wanting to be dependent on anything, I can’t help but feel like I’m home when Ben holds me like this.

  “Are you okay, baby?” he whispers, his chin resting on the top of my head.

  I nod, even though I’m not entirely sure I am. I don’t know if I can last another two and a half years with these people. I’m not sure if I’ll actually survive it.

  “I can’t believe this has happened,” he says, his fingers running down my back. I close my eyes, curl my fingers in his jumper and pull him closer. I can feel his heart pounding beneath my cheek, as though he’s run home. I have no idea what he’s thinking right now.

  “Wait here,” he suddenly says, pulling back now so he can look at me. “Just stay here and wait until I come back okay?”

  “What are you going to do?” I ask, my voice rising in fear.

  “It doesn’t matter, Evie. I just need you to wait here for me, okay. Wait. Here,” he says, emphasising his words. “I won’t be long.”