A Proscriptive Relationship

by Jordan Lynde

  Paranoia took over, driving me on. I imagined footsteps following me. A cracking noise to my right, voices to my left. I didn’t know which were real, or which weren’t; but I wasn’t going to stop to figure it out.

  As soon as I made it to the road, I was pulled to the side roughly. A startled scream escaped my lips, but a cold hand quickly suppressed that. With wide eyes, I looked up to see my captor.

  Shawn roughly twisted my arm from my back, making me cry out into his hand. “Don’t struggle, Holly,” he ordered.

  I didn’t like the way he said my name. However, to save myself pain, I heeded his words and stayed as still as I could.

  “Dan is bringing the car around now, so just hold tight for a minute.”

  Car? They were seriously going to kidnap me? Dread filled my veins and I felt myself on the edge of hyperventilating. How was I going to get out of this? No one was around! Only Jeremy knew where I was and he was all the way across town.

  Then Shawn ran his fingers through my hair. “Your hair even feels the same. I’ve heard that everyone has a twin in the world, but I didn’t actually believe it. It’s incredible.” He lowered his chin so it rested on my head and he let out a small sigh. “At least you’re the right Holly this time.”

  This time? My eyes narrowed in confusion. Right Holly? What did he mean by that? I was tempted to shake my head, but I kept still. Shawn pulled his hand away from my mouth and I took a deep breath, or as deep as I could manage in the driving rain.

  “Don’t scream,” he warned.

  “I won’t,” I assured him, trying to make my voice sound calmer than I felt.

  “Good girl.”

  “Are you seriously going to kidnap me?”

  “I wouldn’t call it kidnapping, per se.”

  “It’s kidnapping!” I cried, clenching my fists. “You’re kidnapping me!”

  “Oh well,” Shawn responded with a casual shrug. “We’re in a lot of trouble already, so what’s a little more? Here comes Dan.”

  “No,” I said, trying to break free. “Let me go! No!”

  “I’m not letting you go,” Shawn said with a laugh. “It’s useless to struggle.”

  “No! You can’t do this! Let go!” Now I was screaming. “Help! Someone help me! Help—”

  Suddenly pain lanced against my cheek and I stared at Shawn with wide eyes. He slapped me! My cheek throbbed angrily as Shawn glared at me.

  “I told you not to scream! Now let’s go!”

  He grabbed my hair and roughly started yanking me towards the car. I was sobbing again. I was surprised I still even had any tears left! This was crazy. Gang members were kidnapping me—and they were going to hurt me.

  Suddenly Shawn stopped. He swore and shoved me away from him. I gasped in surprise and toppled forwards, slipping on the sidewalk and falling onto the road. I heard the squealing of breaks and raised my hands to my face, letting out a surprised cry.

  No impact came and I looked up to see the car a few feet in front of me. The headlights blinded me, but I could hear the car door open and close. Someone was standing right above me.

  “Are you okay, miss?”

  I stared at the police officer in shock. It was a miracle. She raised an eyebrow, holding out a hand to me. I grasped it and she pulled me to my feet. Still in shock, I didn’t say anything as she looked me over.

  “What’s wrong? Did something happen?” she inquired, a frown appearing on her face.

  “This guy, Shawn, he—” I immediately cut myself off. I couldn’t tell the police officer I was almost kidnapped! I couldn’t involve the gang. I couldn’t chance getting Mr. Heywood involved since this was my fault. I cleared my throat. “My boyfriend and me, we got in an argument and he left me and drove away . . . and I was walking when I slipped and fell into the street . . .”

  “What about that man that was with you?”

  “There’s was no man with me,” I lied confidently, raising an eyebrow in confusion. “Maybe my shadow . . .”

  The police officer didn’t look convinced. “Okay . . . where do you live? What’s your name?”

  I sighed and began to tell her my address, my name, my mom’s name, and all the information she asked for. Then she offered to drive me home and I accepted. Relief washed over me as I sat inside the cop car. What a stroke of luck.

  “Have a nice night,” the police officer said when she reached my house.

  “I’ll try,” I responded, climbing out of the vehicle.

  She stayed in my driveway until I made it to my front porch. I watched as she drove away, and then I turned back to my door and turned the handle. It didn’t budge.

  Of course. I forgot I was supposed to stay at Mr. Heywood’s. And I didn’t have my extra key! I must have left it at the hospital along with everything else in my bag. I slammed my head against my front door, laughing without humor. I should have expected this. What else could possibly go wrong? At least my porch shaded me from the rain.

  Pulling my jacket around me tighter, I slid down the door into a sitting position, pulling my knees up to my chest. Guess I was camping out tonight. I rested my head on my hands, closing my eyes. Today just wasn’t my day.

  I didn’t remember falling asleep, but someone shaking me violently woke me up awfully fast. For one horrifying second I thought it was Shawn and I attempted to shove the person away.

  “Leave me alone!” I pleaded, pushing on soaking clothing. “I’ve had enough . . . I can’t take any more tonight!”

  A strong pair of hands grasped my flailing ones and held them tightly. “Holly!”

  It wasn’t Shawn. In a way, it was worse. I looked up to see Mr. Heywood staring at me with eyes full of relief. He lowered himself down to my level, a small chuckle escaping his lips.

  “You were sleeping,” he murmured. “I thought . . .”

  My mouth was suddenly dry. I licked my lips and swallowed a few times before speaking. “What are you doing here?”

  He looked up at me again, his eyes narrowing slightly. “What am I doing here? Holly, I’ve been looking for you for the past three hours! You could have at least answered your phone and let someone know where you were!”

  My eyes widened in surprise and I took in his appearance now. He looked as if he’d gone swimming. His hair was matted to his forehead and small droplets of water ran down his face. His clothing was soaked and clinging to him tightly. His hands, which were holding onto mine, were freezing.

  Guilt rushed through me, but I shoved it away quickly. I turned my head away from him. “Sorry for wasting your time.”

  “Get up.”

  “What?”

  “Get up,” he repeated, yanking me to my feet. “Let’s go.”

  “Go where? No! Let me go!” I responded, trying to pull my hands free. “I’m staying here!”

  “No, you’re not,” he responded coolly. “Now let’s go.”

  “No. I don’t want to be around you!” I protested. “Now let me go!”

  “I’m not leaving you out here so you can catch hypothermia, Holly. If you don’t want to come to my place, I’ll drive you to Jeremy’s. You are not staying out here all night.”

  “Why do you even care?”

  “Why do I . . .?” he shook his head at me in disbelief. “I spent over two hours searching in the park for you since Jeremy called me in a panic saying Shawn was after you. Then I spent another hour driving around to the other places I thought you might be when I couldn’t find you! Do you know how worried I was when I couldn’t find you? Do you?”

  My response was stuck in my throat. Mr. Heywood never raised his voice at me. But now he was basically yelling at me. I clenched my jaw, glaring at him. “I didn’t ask you to look for me.”

  “I thought something happened to you!” he responded, his grasp on my hand tightening. “I thought Shawn had finally got you! I was terrified that he got you and it was my fault.”

  “Which would suck because then when the other Holly leaves you again, you won’t
have a replacement, huh? Maybe I should have let Shawn take me!”

  Mr. Heywood’s face went blank. My chest heaved a few times, but I was determined not to cry. Then, suddenly pissed, he pushed me against the front door, letting go of my hands and putting a hand on either side of me, pinning me there. I caught my breath and stared at him with wide eyes. He was too close . . .

  “Don’t ever say that,” he said lowly.

  “Why?” I whispered. “Why not? At least Shawn told me I’d be a replacement, instead of lying to me like you did all along!”

  “Shawn will hurt you!” he responded sounding vexed.

  “You hurt me more.”

  Mr. Heywood’s expression suddenly softened and he dropped his arms, his eyes downcast. I stayed against the door, my eyes filling with tears again. I sniffled, bringing up a sleeve to wipe them away. Stupid tear ducts.

  “I know,” he finally said. “I know . . . I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to find out like that. I promise I was going to tell you, Holly.”

  “When?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I swear I was. I was just trying to avoid what just happened. I was trying to think of a way I could tell you without hurting you.”

  I laughed feebly. “Guess that isn’t happening.”

  “I’m sorry,” he apologized again.

  “I don’t want an apology,” I responded. “I want an explanation.”

  “I’ll explain to you as soon as we get to my place,” he bargained. “You’re not staying out here all night.”

  A slight breeze passed by, making me shiver and I nodded in agreement. “Okay.”

  Without warning, he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me tightly to his chest. Surprised, I didn’t move away, my face pressed against his waterlogged shirt. He squeezed me tighter and for a second I couldn’t breathe. “Please don’t disappear on me again.”

  His words brought me to my senses and I shoved him back, my body shivering from the cold but my heart beating for another reason.

  LESSON twenty-seven

  The drive to Mr. Heywood’s apartment was silent. I stared out the window, watching the streetlights pass by. He kept his eyes on the road, not sparing me one glance. The radio was off, making it more awkward. When we arrived, still no words were spoken as we made our way into his apartment.

  He disappeared into his room for a few minutes and then returned with a pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt. He handed them to me. “Go change or you’ll get sick.”

  “I’m fine,” I responded stiffly, crossing my arms over my chest. “You’d better start talking.”

  “Holly, just change out of your clothing.”

  “I said I’m fine.”

  “You’re changing whether you like it or not,” he said, narrowing his eyes at me. “It’d save us both trouble and embarrassment if I didn’t have to force you to change.”

  With a hot face and a scowl, I nodded, taking the clothing and going to the bathroom. I quickly stripped out of my damp clothing and pulled on his warm ones. Then I checked my reflection in the mirror and nearly gasped in horror. I looked like a mess! My hair was curled and knotted and my makeup was all over. As quickly as I could, I did my best to clean my face up with warm water. When the makeup was mostly gone, I dried my face, then returned to the living room.

  Mr. Heywood was standing in the middle of it, wearing a black V-neck and gray pajama pants. For a moment I was taken in by his good looks, but I pulled my gaze away before he caught me looking. When he did notice me, he gestured for me to come towards him. I stopped a few feet away, chewing my lip nervously.

  “Are you going to lie to me again?” I asked quietly, looking directly into his eyes.

  “I promised I wouldn’t lie to you anymore,” he said.

  “You broke that promise.”

  “I never lied to you, Holly,” he responded, frowning at me. “I just didn’t tell you everything you needed to know.”

  “Didn’t you think telling me I look exactly like your old girlfriend is something I needed to know?” I demanded angrily.

  “I was going to tell you,” he responded, his gray eyes piercing into mine.

  “When? Why didn’t you just tell me that night when you told me about her?”

  “Holly, I don’t think you understand how hard it was for me to reveal my past to you,” he replied, shaking his head slightly. “My past is not something I’m proud of and at the time I was worried you’d be scared off after hearing about it. When you weren’t, I was happy, and didn’t want to take any chances by telling you about the other Holly.”

  “I would’ve reacted better if you’d just told me! What was I supposed to do after what happened? This type of thing isn’t very common, Mr. Heywood. She looks exactly like me, except older! How can I not feel as though I’m the replacement?”

  He sighed, running a hand through his still wet hair. “Holly, you were the replacement.”

  Was he kidding? He looked at me with a serious face. A small laugh escaped my mouth. “I knew it,” I said, feeling my throat constrict. “I am the replacement. This is great!”

  “Holly, I said you were the replacement.”

  I gave him a flat look. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

  “When I first saw you at school, I wanted to get as close to you as possible, because you reminded me so much of . . . of the other Holly. Your hair color, your eyes, your facial structure.”

  Shawn had said the same thing. How could two people be so much alike?

  “So you used me as a replacement for her?” I demanded. “Didn’t you care about the person I actually was? Did you even think a little about my feelings?”

  “I was too caught up in your looks,” he responded honestly. “I was too distracted by your appearance to think about your feelings.”

  “That’s horrible!”

  He nodded his head in agreement. “It is.”

  “So then, everything you said to me . . . was it all a lie?”

  “No, I meant every word I said to you. Not to the other Holly, but to you.”

  “But I thought—”

  He held up his hand. “Yes, at first you were a replacement. But as I started getting closer to you, I began to realize how different you were from her.”

  “But you just said we were a lot alike,” I pointed out.

  “Appearance-wise, yes,” he said patiently. “But personality-wise and everything else, no. You’re both stubborn, but that’s about it.”

  “I don’t understand . . .”

  “Should I list a few things?” he asked, the corners of his lips twitching up into a small smirk. “You blush easily, you cry easily, you get embarrassed easily, you’re too innocent for your own good, you’re extremely clumsy, you’re probably too honest . . . should I continue?”

  I felt my face heat up and I looked at the floor. “I d-don’t . . .”

  He chuckled. “See? You’re blushing.”

  “I’m not,” I responded stubbornly.

  “I’ll continue then. You’re horrible with eye contact, you get jealous easily, you’re easily riled up . . .” He paused. “But you’re also very kind, and everyone who meets you loves you, and you’re so incredibly understanding. You don’t judge people by what they’ve done.” When he said the last words, his expression softened considerably as he looked at me.

  Once more, I had to look away. That look was too . . . intimate. “What about me being the replacement? I thought—”

  “Holly, you stopped being the replacement that day when I was driving you home and we were talking about our parents. That’s when I realized you were different than the other Holly. You cried for me, something the other Holly probably would have never done. From that moment on, I viewed you as Holly Evers. I haven’t thought of you as a replacement since that night. You could never be a replacement. I’m ashamed to think that at first I used you and I’m incredibly sorry about that. I felt guilty about it every day.”

 
“Why couldn’t you have just told me all of this earlier?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You mean before you ran away from me in the hospital without letting me explain? There was hardly enough time.”

  “I really thought you were just using me as a replacement,” I told him, lowering my eyes and clenching my fist. “I thought everything that happened between us was just a lie. I thought you used me. It . . . hurt.”

  “Holly, do you really think I’m that kind of man?”

  I looked up back into his gray eyes. Did I? Immediately my eyes filled with tears and I shook my head. “No! I don’t think that at all,” I responded, my voice cracking. “I’m sorry, Mr. Heywood. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. I . . .”

  “Holly,” he said with a sigh, grabbing my arm and dragging me closer to him. He put his arms around me and held in me a tight embrace. “See what I mean? You cry too easily.”

  “I’m sorry,” I apologized, grasping his shirt in my hands.

  “You shouldn’t apologize. It was all my fault. And I’m sorry too, I’ve made you cry again,” he said. “I seem to do that a lot.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “It is my fault.”

  “No it’s not,” I argued. “I’m the one who cries.”

  “But I’m the one who made you cry,” he insisted.

  “Technically you can’t make me cry . . .”

  “Holly, you know what I mean,” he responded and I imagined him rolling his eyes.

  “But—”

  “Holly, just shut up and enjoy my comforting embrace.”

  Finally, I smiled a little, holding him tighter. The tension between us immediately ceased and I let out a small sigh. He pulled away eventually though and I resisted the urge to frown.

  “Holly, how exactly did you manage to get to your house? Did you walk?” he asked, furrowing his eyebrows. “That’s a long way.”