N K Smith - [Old Wounds 03]

by Weight of the World (epub)

  “So can sand. Just think of it as potting soil.”

  “But it didn’t come out of a b-b-bag.”

  I could have laughed at the statement, but there were very few things that were actually funny with his little hang-ups. I wondered if his fucked-up dad beat him if he got dirty, too.

  “So packaged dirt is different and okay, but sand on a beach is…”

  He looked away, out to the Bay. “I know it d-d-d-doesn’t mmmmake ssssense, but it’s still … sssscary.”

  After a long silence I felt the need to distract him. “The Avett Brothers.”

  “W-what?”

  “How can you say you don’t like country when you listen to the Avett Brothers?”

  “Th-they’re not—”

  “Elliott, there’s a banjo—”

  “Not all …” he tried to interrupt but I wasn’t going to let him. My distraction was working.

  “And your iTunes thing says the genre is country.”

  I smiled at my victory. He couldn’t combat that, but the happiness faded quickly.

  We were both quiet for a while until finally he relaxed just slightly and asked, “D-d-do you know the D-D-Donner P-party?”

  “The people-eaters?” He nodded. “I’m not acquainted with them personally, but I know of them. Their story at least.”

  “They w-w-were caught in the sssssnow. They trusted the w-w-wrong person. A gggguy w-w-wrote ab-bout a new p-passage to California in this b-book. He nnnever actually c-c-c-con-c … tried the p-passage, so the ggggroup g-got sssstuck in mud. If they’d only g-g-gotten through the mud a d-day or t-two sssssooner, they w-would’ve b-been over the mountains b-before the ssssnow.”

  I had no idea why he was talking about this. “If we get stuck in the snow and I die, you can eat me to stay alive.” Hell, if I don’t die, he could eat me because that sounded all kinds of fun.

  That thought deflated me because it forced me to think about stupid Megan Simons and her assertion that Elliott was good at going down.

  I must have looked depressed or something because Elliott rubbed his sand-covered hand over the scar on my neck and asked, “W-what’s w-wrong, Sophie?”

  I had to smile at the care he took to say my name without stuttering. “Nothing.” He gave me a look. I had to decide if I wanted to say anything or not. I wanted today to be fun and not bring up all the shit from our pasts that we normally dwelled on.

  “Sophie?”

  I drew my eyes back up to his. Maybe if I said something about my sexual past, it’d make me feel better about asking about his. But how the hell did I just bring up having sex with someone else out of the blue?

  “Sophie, you’re w-w-worrying m-mmme.”

  Shit.

  Fine. I felt like I had to know. Megan had said a bunch of stuff that made no sense given what I knew of Elliott. “Megan said you had a lot of stamina.”

  His eyes went wide. It was understandable. I didn’t have much practice at sugarcoating things. He looked away, his eyes fixing on some point in the horizon. “Thhhhat’s b-because I c-c-c-couldn’t … fffffffinish.” His face reddened even more and it wasn’t just from the cold wind. His head hung low.

  “Did you go down on her?”

  He shook his head furiously, but didn’t look up at me. “N-n-nnnnnoooo.”

  I wasn’t surprised she lied. She seemed like the type. “Why did you have sex with her?”

  He wrapped his arms around his drawn legs, as he attempted to rest his chin on his knees, but they were sandy and it obviously bugged him. He started brushing off his knees again and then began to pick each grain of sand and flick it to the side.

  Finally he answered me. “I-I-I already t-t-told you.”

  “To see if you were normal? But why wouldn’t you be normal?” I already knew, but I had told him about Helen’s boyfriend and he hadn’t told me anything about his issues. It was only fair that he should tell me what the hell was going on with him.

  Instead of answering, Elliott turned to me, his hands moving quickly to scoop me up and bring me to him. This was one time where I didn’t straddle him. He picked me up and placed me on his lap. His mouth immediately moved to my neck.

  Thank the Flying Spaghetti Monster for his terrific mouth. In the very short time we’d been making out, he’d learned my favorite spot and worked it like a master. I was completely aware that this was his attempt in making me forget about the question I posed. It was exactly the same tactic he used when I asked him about Christmas.

  He knew how to distract me. My mind warred with my body as to whether I would allow him to direct my thoughts or if I would press for the answer.

  If I was right and someone had messed with him when he was little, I would still like him. I wanted him to know that. I wanted to make it better and I knew that I could.

  He moved his mouth up from my neck to my lips and he sucked on them as my hands moved under his stocking cap to touch his hair. I was hot despite the cold wind and instantly all of my thoughts centered on his groin pressing against the junction of my legs.

  How hot would it be to do it on this deserted beach? And in the dirty sand, no less. I didn’t care about the cold. I’d gladly risk hypothermia and get wind-chapped nipples if it meant that something of him would be inside me.

  I rocked on top of him and heard his groan. I loved that groan so I rocked again. And then again.

  Normally, he would have stopped.

  He should’ve been stopping me at this point.

  But he wasn’t.

  He wasn’t because he was trying to get out of …

  Oh, shit! One of his hands kept steady on my hip, but the other went up under my coat, under my shirt and under my bra. When did he remove his glove?

  Damn. I had to think. He was getting out of something by …

  Holy fucking monkeys! His hand moved to the small of my back and he pressed me closer to him.

  I was going to bang him on this cold-ass beach.

  But I didn’t want to bang Elliott.

  He was too pure for that.

  Maybe one day, but not …

  His tongue swept out against my neck and I nearly melted.

  He was trying to get out of answering my question about being normal.

  I moved my hands down to his shoulders, and pushed away, or at least tried to. He held me firm to him. I pushed at him again and his hand moved from my breast. Letting my hands move down his arms, I brought his between us.

  “Did you think you weren’t normal because someone …?” My words trailed off as he pinched his eyes closed. His hands curled and I moved mine to cup his face. I didn’t want him to be in pain like this, but somehow I felt it necessary to push him in this way.

  He tried to bring me back to him, but his closed eyes and fisted hands hindered the process. I kissed his eyelids. I’d never done that before to anyone.

  “Did …” How the hell did I ask this question? Any way I asked it, it was going to sound horrible. “Did your mom fuck …”

  His eyes flew open and suddenly his hands were at my wrists, pulling them away from his face. They were tight around me. He forced my arms to cross at my chest and he pushed them into me. It hurt.

  I noted to myself that should I ever ask him something like that again, I would not be touching him or be physically close at all.

  “Ow, Elliott,” I gasped. “That hurts.”

  His teeth were clenched tight and his eyes were filled with hateful fire. “D-don’t t-t-talk about m-m-my mmmmm-mmmmmom llllliiiike that. She llllllloved m-m-me. She d-d-d-didn’t hhhhhhurt m-m-mmmme … ever.”

  “Okay,” I said quickly, hoping he would release me.

  “Ssssshe w …” I watched as his cheeks ballooned out and he tried to push the word out, “wwwwwwwwould
n’t do that.”

  “Okay,” I said again. “I’m sorry.” I tried to keep my voice calm and even, but my arms were really starting to hurt.

  I tried to pull away, but I couldn’t move my arms from my body. His grip was too tight. “Please let go.” My eyes began to water. I’d been hurt worse, but I hated that he wasn’t letting me move.

  “D-d-d-don’t t-t-t-t …”

  “Elliott, please!”

  A tear slipped from my eye and his face changed as he followed its course down my cheek. His fingers loosened and he pulled my arms away from my body. I took the opportunity to wrench myself out of his hold and move off of him.

  I fought against the urge to run away from him. My mind raced but I tried to remember that he wouldn’t hurt me on purpose. I shouldn’t have suggested that his mother had done that to him.

  “I-I-I-I’m ssssssorry, SSS-SSSoph-phie!”

  His chest was heaving and his body was shaking.

  We needed to get back to his car. He needed to warm back up. I stood up. He crumpled.

  “Don’t g-g-go,” he sobbed, unable to look up at me.

  Squatting down, I brought my forehead to his. “I’m not leaving you.” He breathed in. “Just this spot. It’s cold.”

  “Don’t hhhhhate me.”

  I took his hands in mine. “I couldn’t hate you.” I placed a kiss on his forehead and pulled on his arms. “Let’s go to the car, okay? I like this beach and all, but I’m getting hungry again. I’d hate to go all Donner Party on you, you know.”

  During our car ride back home, we talked about quite a lot of things, but mostly he apologized for hurting me and I assured him that I wasn’t really hurt and that I was sorry for asking what I had about his mother.

  He gave me no further information on his sexual aversion, but I no longer questioned which sick fuck had hurt him like that. It hadn’t been his mom.

  About two hours into the drive, when we pulled over to get gas, he turned his cell phone back on and cringed.

  “What?”

  “I hhhhave t-t-t-ten mmmmissed calls and eight t-t-texts.”

  “You’re going to be in trouble.”

  He nodded. “Hhhhe’s b-been mmmmad at mmme sssince J-J-JJJane.”

  “What do you mean?” How could Dr. Dalton be mad at him for whatever happened with Jane?

  “I r-removed her r-restraints and she hhhhhurt hhhherself.”

  “Oh.” Still, what Jane did to herself wasn’t Elliott’s fault. Dr. Dalton was an ass if he took that shit out on him.

  “Mmmaybe he’ll g-g-ground me,” he said with a smile.

  Leaning back against his car, I watched him pump the gas. I loved his smile even though it confused me. “And this makes you happy because …?”

  “B-b-b-because b-before, hhhhe never let me do anything b-b-because he didn’t think I could hhhhandle it. Nnnnow, it’ll be because I deserve to b-be p-p-punished. I d-d-did something wrong.”

  “If you’re grounded, will I still be able to come over?”

  “They c-can’t ssstop m-me from ssseeing you.” He moved to get in the car, but I stopped him.

  “I know that I don’t have a license or whatever, but since you’re in your rebellious period, maybe you’d let me drive the rest of the way.”

  He hesitated and looked from me to the car and back again.

  “Come on! I’m your girlfriend. You gotta--”

  He rolled his eyes and I swear it was absolutely the cutest thing I’d ever seen. “B-b-but don’t get caaaaaaught.”

  “Why did you ask me about the Donner Party earlier?” I questioned as I sat on my bed with Elliott. One good thing about having an incompetent father was that I could do pretty much what I wanted, which was why I was on my bed behind a closed door with my boyfriend.

  “It wwwwas c-cold.”

  “So how do you know about them?”

  He took my hand and smiled. “I read ab-bout them.”

  I smiled back and shook my head. “Do you like reading about cannibalism?”

  “D-dark and t-tortured, right?” he asked, bringing back one of our first conversations.

  I smiled remembering how few words we’d actually said to each other back then. “Yeah, but eating dead people is a little too dark and twisted for me.”

  “They d-didn’t all eat hhhhhhuman ffffflesh, and they hhhhhad no other choice. It w-w-wasn’t until everything else was g-gone and at mmmost they only ate it ffffor a month. Sssshould they have jjjust d-died?”

  I scrunched up my nose. “That’s sick and I don’t know how I feel about you knowing that shit.” I was teasing him because in truth, I enjoyed him talking about anything and if he wanted to talk about shit like that, so be it.

  “Wwwwell, think ab-bout it, Sophie. You’ve been hhhhungry when you were little, right? W-what if there hhhhhadn’t been any food around?”

  I looked at him for a long time, hoping to every god out there that he wasn’t telling me this as some kind of way to let me know that he had actual experience with eating human flesh. I mean, I supposed if he had done that, I could deal with it, but I hoped to the FSM the boy hadn’t ever …

  “D-don’t lllook at me liiiike that. I-I-I’m not … I-I jjjjust find it ffffascinating what p-people will do to ssssurvive.” He paused. “B-b-but I hhhhave eaten …”

  I couldn’t even let him get out the rest of his words before I covered my mouth with my hand, expecting something nasty to escape his lips. My eyes narrowed as I recognized a mischievous gleam in his eye and a satisfied smile upon his lips.

  “I-I-I’m k-kidding. My d-d-d-d, ffffather was vvvery particular about food.”

  Tom knocked and informed us that Dr. Dalton had called several times, and that all of the adults thought it was time for Elliott to go home. I wished him luck because I was pretty sure he’d get into a lot of trouble for disappearing for an entire day.

  When he left, I cleaned and thought about the Donner Party. What must it have been like to be stuck up on a mountain, cold and hungry?

  And alone.

  Elliott was right. People did lots of things to survive. I had, so I didn’t have any right to judge those people who did what they needed to do in order to go on.

  I wondered if Elliott was trying to say something about himself or if he was saying something about me. Even if I hadn’t told him everything, I knew he could guess at it all. Or maybe he was just talking without underlying reasons. I never knew. I figured that whatever he was able to force out of his mouth was only a fraction of what went on in his brain.

  I hadn’t cleaned in forever. I gave up on Saturday night and spent the better part of Sunday morning thoroughly cleaning Tom’s house. Shit was just messy. Someone needed to show him how to vacuum and clean the toilet.

  It was only after the house was damn near sparkling that I realized I hadn’t heard from Elliott. After I ate something to appease Tom, I headed up to my room to see if he was online.

  EDalton123 had a green light by his name.

  YoSoph: Hey!

  EDalton123: How is your morning?

  YoSoph: Okay. I cleaned. Tom doesn’t seem to know how. What about you? Are you in trouble?

  EDalton123: Stephen hates me.

  YoSoph: I doubt that. Are you grounded?

  EDalton123: The only punishment was being lectured about how it feels to not know where someone is and so on and so forth. Everyone else can be out of their sight for long periods of time, even Jane who has been known to hurt herself, but when it’s me, they go crazy with worry.

  YoSoph: Yeah, it seems hypocritical. How is Jane anyway?

  EDalton123: David said she’s doing better, but he’s an eternal optimist. She probably won’t be home for Christmas.

  YoSoph: Speaking of, you never answered
my question.

  Like I knew there would be, there was a long pause between my text and his. I imagined that he kept deleting because the messenger told me that he was typing.

  YoSoph: Why is that hard for you to answer?

  EDalton123: I don’t like thinking about it. Everyone I know loves Christmas and everything about it and I don’t.

  YoSoph: I gathered that, but why?

  EDalton123: You should come over today. Do you want to come over?

  YoSoph: If you want to talk about Christmas in person, then sure, but your whole avoidance thing isn’t working. You need to get better at it. I bet Wallace can see right through your techniques.

  EDalton123: I’m not trying to be sneaky about it. I’m blatantly avoiding your questions about Christmas and I know you’ll respect that.

  Smiling was unavoidable. I loved his straightforwardness. It was sort of like my own, but it manifested itself in a different way. Elliott was nothing short of awesome.

  YoSoph: I’ll come over if you pick me up. Can I drive again?

  EDalton123: You’re just using me for the Jetta, aren’t you? Our whole friendship is based on a desire to drive it, isn’t it? Jane has a Cabriolet she’s not using right now.

  YoSoph: I like the Jetta, it’s sturdy and safe. After what happened last time, I need a safe car.

  EDalton123: Will you tell me about that?

  YoSoph: If you tell me about Christmas.

  EDalton123: You drive a hard bargain.

  YoSoph: Is that a yes?

  EDalton123: It’s a maybe.

  We sat on his floor. My legs were crossed and his feet were bare. “P-put your ffffingers here and here.”

  His fingers placed mine where he wanted them and then he ran his thumbs over the strings. “D-do you hear that? That’s an A.”

  It was my turn to strum the guitar and the sound came out the same. I didn’t know how he started teaching me guitar, but here we were.

  “A-and this,” he said as he moved my fingers on the neck again, “is a C. C is your fffriend.”