That made me stop.
He trusted me.
This incredible man trusted me! Ellie McCallum. I was hateful. I was inconsiderate. I had thought nothing of making him the brunt of my juvenile cruelty. I had grown up to become a woman who cared nothing for anyone or anything. To me, people had always been disposable. No one was worth the effort it took to love and open myself up.
I was hated. I was feared. I was barely tolerated by the people I considered friends.
And yet Flynn Hendrick trusted me.
The power of those words wasn’t lost on me. He had given me something infinitely precious without even realizing it. He offered it without a second thought to who he was giving it to.
Because Flynn was pure. He was untainted. He was good.
And this man trusted me.
I slowly wrapped my hand around the side of his neck, my fingers curling up into his hair. I heard Flynn’s sharp intake of breath as I pressed myself against the length of him. Our bodies were touching from chest to toes.
My breath mingled with his and his eyes squeezed shut. I couldn’t ask him to open his eyes. As much as I wanted him to look at me, to see me, I knew instinctively that it would be too much.
“Is it alright if I kiss you, Flynn?” I asked, caressing the skin below his ear in slow, soothing circles with my thumb.
“Yes,” he let out in a voice barely loud enough for me to hear.
But I heard him. In the depths of my heart I would always be able to hear him.
I leaned in and touched his lips with mine. I didn’t move. I didn’t kiss him. I let him get used to the feel of my mouth. If he wanted to pull back, now would be the time. Before I let go and kissed him the way I wanted to.
He was breathing noisily through his nose. The air whooshed in and out so fast I was a bit worried he’d hyperventilate.
“Is this okay?” I asked, my lips brushing against his.
He didn’t answer me. He only nodded.
So I closed my eyes and pressed my mouth firmer. And then I was kissing him.
I started slow, as difficult as that was for me. Delicate pecks against his mouth as he worked out what he was supposed to do. Light caresses. Soft touches.
It felt like forever before he finally started to respond and kiss me back. His tender, innocent grazes stoked a fire inside of me that I didn’t even know existed. I tentatively licked his lower lip and he shuddered.
I licked him again, this time pressing between his lips. He clenched his teeth together as though to bar my entry. I pulled back slightly and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Please let me taste you,” I begged. If he pulled away now I didn’t know what I’d do. I’d most likely crumble into a heap of sexual frustration and never get up again.
“I want to taste you too,” he whispered and then his tongue was arching out to meet mine. I sealed my lips over his and I taught him how to kiss me like he wanted to devour.
For someone who was so new to this whole kissing thing, he picked up the basics surprisingly fast. The man was a natural. He sucked on my tongue and I couldn’t control my deep, guttural moan. I instantly froze, worried my primal response would send him scrambling.
I was pleasantly shocked when it had the opposite effect. Flynn brought his hands up and pressed his palms into my back. He dug his fingers into my flesh and I felt as though he were trying to burrow his way inside. His mouth was hot and hurried.
But I could only go so far. And I wanted to scream with the irony of that. I had finally found a man I wanted to share all of myself with but he wasn’t ready for me to do that.
Because I wanted to grope. I wanted to stroke. I wanted to rip his clothes off and run my hands over his smooth, hard body. But I couldn’t.
This was the first step and I couldn’t venture any further. Even if the ache between my thighs was threatening to reach an earth shattering crescendo.
So after a few minutes, I forced myself to pull back. I didn’t want to and I could tell Flynn didn’t want me to either. His lips reached out for mine again, his fingers turning to claws as he gripped me tightly. I chuckled as I leaned backwards, placing a finger over his mouth.
“Let me catch my breath,” I pleaded. Because if I didn’t take a minute, I’d push him for more. I had officially become the dude in our scenario.
“But I want to kiss you a lot. I liked that,” he pouted and I couldn’t help but kiss him one more time. But when he tried to deepen it, I pulled away and rolled onto my back.
We were quiet for a long time. I threw my arm over my eyes and tried to dampen my raging hormones. I was more turned on by Flynn’s kisses than I had ever been by having sex with the countless guys that had come before him.
The only sound was our raspy breathing. It was a comfortably intimate moment, lying in the grass, our arms barely touching, lost in the waves of a passion I could barely believe was real.
“Was it okay? Did you like it?” Flynn asked and I could hear the thread of doubt in his voice. His normally flat tone was tinged with worry.
I lowered my arm and rolled back on my side so that I was facing him again. His eyes were trained on the sky so I reached out and placed my hand on his chest.
“I loved it, Flynn. It was amazing,” I said truthfully. I hoped he could recognize my sincerity. I hoped, just this once, he understood the real emotion in my tone and inflection. Because what I wanted to say but couldn’t was so much more profound than that.
I love you, Flynn.
“Good, because I want to do that again.” Flynn grinned and squeezed my hand before sitting up.
I couldn’t help but laugh.
Flynn whistled for Murphy who came galloping across the yard with his long, clumsy strides. His large body collided with Flynn, who caught him around the middle.
He touched and cuddled the creature so easily. One day I hoped he touched me with such easy affection.
“I’m freezing. I have banana bread inside. Come have some,” Flynn stated, getting to his feet and systematically wiping grass from his pants and shirt. It was never a question. Flynn only gave commands.
And for once I didn’t feel oppositional when told to do something. My need to defy was tucked away quietly. This time I was happy to comply.
So I followed the man who had stolen my heart and stitched up my soul into the house of our shared childhood. Where I could remember the person I had almost been.
And just maybe I could be her now.
-Flynn-
Many years ago…
Tomorrow is my sixteenth birthday. Mom said she’d make me my special cake. It was vanilla cake with chocolate icing. I told her I wanted to have Ellie over for cake and ice cream. Mom had frowned and told me no.
I had gotten angry. I threw my glass and it cut Mom’s arm. I felt bad then. I saw the blood and I started to cry. It was gross. It made me feel sick.
Mom told me not to worry about it. She said she’d clean it up and be good as new. She told me I had to stop throwing things when I got mad. That I should talk instead of being violent.
I told her I’d try.
She told me Ellie could come over and that made me happy.
I tried to talk to Ellie when I got to school but she was with Dania and Stu and those other kids she talks to.
“Tomorrow’s my birthday,” I told her. Dania started laughing. It made me mad.
“It’s the ‘tard’s birthday, Stu!” Dania said, her voice sounding like a cow I heard crying when it was dying in our neighbor’s field.
I put my hands over my ears so I could block out her voice. “Shut up!” I yelled. They kept laughing.
Ellie didn’t stop them. She laughed with them. That made my stomach hurt.
“Stop laughing!” I yelled even louder. If I were loud enough, maybe they’d hear me and they’d stop.
“’Tard boy’s having a birthday! Are we invited to the party? Will there be balloons? What about a clown?” Stu laughed and laughed and I was getting madder.
/>
I hit the locker and ran down the hall. I hated all of them. Even Ellie.
Ellie turned around in her seat at the end of English class. I didn’t want to talk to her. She had been mean to me. She was mean to me all the time now. She used to be my friend. Sometimes she still was. When she came to my house she was nice. She’d smile a lot and I liked that.
But I didn’t like her at school.
I didn’t like her with her other friends.
“I’m sorry about earlier, Flynn. You just can’t talk to me in front of everyone else. We’ve talked about that,” she said so quietly I could barely hear her.
“Why are you talking like that? I can’t hear you,” I said loudly to show her how I wanted her to talk.
“Shh! Stop it!” she said and she was frowning. I knew she was getting mad at me again.
I didn’t want to look at her. She was making me sad. I didn’t want to feel sad. Mom said if she made me sad she wasn’t really my friend.
I wanted Ellie to be my friend.
But I was sad all the time now.
“I got you a birthday gift. I’ll give it to you after school tomorrow, okay,” she said, talking quietly again.
I didn’t look at her. Even if she was going to give me a present.
“Maybe I could come to your house too. We could hang out. Watch the A-Team. I’ll even watch that stupid cartoon you like,” she said and I smiled because I liked watching television with Ellie. She would do funny voices and make me laugh.
“It’s Aqua Teen Hunger Force,” I said. Aqua Teen Hunger Force was my favorite but Ellie never wanted to watch it. She said it sucked.
I was excited that she wanted to watch it with me.
“Yeah, Aqua Teen Hunger Force.” Ellie made a noise with her nose that made me smile.
“Am I forgiven?” she asked.
I nodded. I didn’t like to be mad at Ellie. I liked it when she was nice. And when she was nice I was happy.
Ellie put her hand on my arm and I liked that too.
“We’ll spend your special day together. I promise,” she said.
I believed her.
I was so excited about my birthday that I couldn’t sleep. The sheets were bothering me again. Mom had forgotten to smooth them before bed and I hated the way they felt on my arms and legs.
I had yelled and yelled for Mom until she finally came in and changed them. I didn’t throw them out the window. Mom said she was proud of me.
I went to school on my birthday wearing my favorite shirt. It was blue and the sleeves covered the backs of my hands. It felt soft when I rubbed it.
I saw Ellie as soon as I walked into the school. I didn’t talk to her. I knew she didn’t want me to. But she smiled at me and I felt happy.
She promised she’d spend my special day with me and I believed her.
Ellie was nice to me in English class and I made her laugh by telling her a funny joke. It felt good.
At the end of the day I checked my watch and started walking home. Ellie said she’d meet me by the bridge. I’d see her in twelve minutes. Seven hundred and twenty seconds.
I could see her standing by the bridge. She looked pretty. Her hair wasn’t colored. It was yellow. I liked it yellow.
“Ellie!” I yelled, waving at her. She didn’t wave back. Her face looked funny.
“There’s our favorite ‘tard!”
Someone grabbed me and held me down. I kicked out my legs, trying to make them let me go but they just held me tighter.
I screamed as they put something on my head. I heard Dania laugh.
“Look at the cute little freak with his cute little birthday hat,” she said and I started to yell at them to leave me alone.
I tried to hit Stu but he moved out of the way.
I kicked gravel at his shoes. I threw my book bag on the ground. I looked at Ellie but she was laughing too.
She said she’d spend my special day with me! She said we’d watch Aqua Teen Hunger Force! She was supposed to eat Mom’s cake!
I started to cry. My insides hurt so much I felt sick.
I tried to run away from them but Stu and Dania grabbed me before I could.
“The birthday boy can’t go without having his cake,” Dania said.
I looked at Ellie. She was still laughing.
Stu put something in my mouth. It tasted horrible. I tried to spit it out. It was stuck in my teeth.
“A shit sandwich for a shitty little ‘tard boy,” Stu yelled in my ear as I wiped my tongue with my hand, trying to get the taste out of my mouth.
I started to gag and then I threw up.
I threw up all over my shoes and on my pants.
“That’s fucking nasty!” Dania said, backing up.
I kept throwing up. I felt so bad.
I was still crying. Why were they always so mean to me?
It was my birthday!
It was my special day!
“You lied!” I screamed at Ellie who had stopped laughing.
Dania and Stu were gone. I don’t know where they went.
Ellie’s face was wet.
“Flynn. I’m sorry,” she said.
“Mom was right! You aren’t my friend. You’re a bitch!”
Ellie’s face looked sad. I didn’t understand. I was sad. Not Ellie. She was mean.
I wiped my mouth and picked up my book bag. I ran away from her.
I hurt so badly I couldn’t breathe.
“I hate you!” I yelled back at her.
“I know,” she heard her say.
-Ellie-
It was hard to describe what Flynn and I were becoming to each other. Since that night with him and Murphy we started spending more and more time together. I would go to his house after work and we’d watch television. Sometimes I’d bring food; sometimes he’d make me something to eat.
I was surprised to discover that Flynn Hendrick was an amazing cook.
It was with startling ease that the two of us fell back into old comfortable patterns. But with some very significant differences.
The first being that now there was kissing involved. Lots and lots of kissing.
I was attracted to Flynn. Very attracted. Sure, he was strange and awkward and his manners were worse than mine. But I wasn’t looking for a gentleman. I wasn’t looking for someone who would hold the door open for me or say bless you when I sneezed. That stuff was really unimportant.
Because what Flynn was outweighed that trivial bullshit women think is essential in the men they want in their lives. Flynn was tender. Flynn was kind. Flynn wanted to make me happy.
Flynn forgave without question, even when my reemerging guilt told me I didn’t deserve it. Because the lingering knowledge of my crime hung heavy over me. I couldn’t forget that Flynn had no idea what really happen all those years ago. The night that ruined my life and killed his dog.
It threatened to overshadow everything. The closer we became, the more I wanted to tell him. But I was scared. I didn’t want to lose the way he looked at me. I didn’t want to lose this growing relationship that was becoming the deepest experience of my life.
I was selfish. Was there ever a doubt? I was thinking only of myself. What it would mean to me if Flynn were ever to discover the truth.
I wasn’t being fair. He needed to know. But I just couldn’t tell him. Not now.
We didn’t talk much about high school and the way I had treated him. Part of me wanted to avoid the topic all together. I wish I could go back to pretending I hadn’t been a heinous bitch. For years I had justified my behavior. I had convinced myself that Flynn hadn’t really been my friend. That our relationship hadn’t mattered to me at all. I had forced myself to forget the details. It made it easier for me to accept that I had caused immeasurable damage for no real reason at all.
Flynn would mention things sometimes that reminded me of how good things had been. He brought up the time I had taught him to play the guitar.
I wasn’t a great musician but I had been abl
e to carry a tune. Flynn however, had been horrible. But it had been fun now that I was allowing myself to remember.
“Do you still play the guitar?” Flynn had asked me and it hit me that I hadn’t thought about playing music in years.
Not since I was sixteen. Not since going to juvie.
It was yet another thing I had lost and had made myself forget that I had enjoyed.
So of course the next time I saw Flynn, he handed me a battered guitar case and gave me a shy smile.
“What’s this?” I asked, slowly reaching out to take it.
“Open it,” Flynn grinned and I could only shake my head. I set the case down on his living room floor and bent down to release the clasps. I opened the top and stared down at a very used, but still beautiful, Taylor acoustic guitar.
“Shit, Flynn. This must have cost a fortune. Taylor guitars are expensive,” I exclaimed, hardly able to believe he had done this. He paid attention to absolutely everything. There wasn’t a thing about me that he hadn’t catalogued away and remembered.
Why did he care about me so much? What had I ever done to deserve it?
“Don’t cuss, Ellie,” Flynn reprimanded flatly. I chuckled and apologized.
I ran a finger down the worn neck. It was a lot nicer than the beater I used to have when I was fifteen. That one had a broken neck I had tried to fix with super glue. After my shoddy repair job it would never stay in tune. The frets had been cracked and chipped and it had been missing a couple of tuning pegs.
This one, while obviously second hand, was gorgeous. I carefully picked it up and sat down cross-legged, with the guitar resting in my lap. I wrapped my left hand around the neck, pressing down. I ran my fingers along the strings.
“I used to like listening to you play. I liked it when you taught me. I want you to play again. It made you happy. You used to smile a lot when you played,” Flynn said, sitting down beside me and watching my hands as they fumbled through the few chords I could still remember. It had been a long time, so I was rusty.
“I can’t believe you did this for me, Flynn.” My voice cracked and broke, the emotion strangling me. My tears embarrassed me.
But Flynn had reminded me that it was okay to cry. That tears didn’t make me weak; that letting them fall didn’t have to mean that I was broken. It could mean that I was coming back together.
Reclaiming the Sand Page 17
