by Rose Fall
I took a quick swig before he could stop me.
“Well maybe you shouldn’t be drinking then,” he said obnoxiously, taking the bottle back.
“That’s nice,” I retorted. “Save it for when I ask your opinion.”
I tried to get the bottle back, but he did that thing again where he held it over my head so that I couldn’t reach it.
“I hate you,” I said with narrowed eyes. I didn’t usually believe in drinking to escape fear, but something was different tonight, and these days, being alone with Jessie scared the hell out of me.
He rolled his eyes and reached into a nearby cabinet to take out two shot glasses. He opened the bottle and filled both them, even as he said, “Anyway, its generally not a good idea. Drinking, alone, with a strange boy… ”
I was sure he was alluding to Jared, and I decided it was best to pretend I hadn’t noticed.
“You’re right, you are strange,” I replied, taking the shot. He followed suit. I made my way out of the kitchen and back to the fort. “But despite the immature comments, and the endless sexual innuendos, you’re harmless,” I tried to say in the most condescending way possible.
“Was that supposed to be a compliment?” He asked. I could hear the confusion in his voice.
“What gave you that idea?” I asked, turning back to him in astonishment.
“You can’t even give a compliment the right way,” he said, shaking his head as if he’d just discovered my tragic flaw.
“Who said I was trying to give you a compliment?” I asked exasperatedly.
“It’s just in your tone, Eli,” he said in an annoying tone.
I rolled my eyes. Why did we always get into these absurd conversations?
“I know how to give a compliment. I just wasn’t giving you one.”
“Prove it,” he said immaturely.
“Nice try,” I murmured, “I’m not going to feed your already gigantic ego.”
“Eli,” he began. He was using his serious voice.
I lay back on the bed of pillows, staring at the ceiling of the fort so I wouldn’t have to look at him.
“I admire your loyalty to your friends, your strength, your independence, and even your dry sense of humor,” he said sincerely. I knew that he always meant what he said, and that made his words mean more than any compliment I had ever gotten.
“Now you try,” he said, not giving me a chance to respond.
He leaned in to whisper, “I promise not to tell anyone you said something nice.”
“C’mon, humor me,” he encouraged as I hesitated.
“Ok! You’re pretty.” I exclaimed.
“Don’t you mean handsome?”
“Nope,” I said, drawing out the word. I bit the inside of my cheeks to keep from laughing. I loved getting under his skin.
He let out a groan, turning away from me to stare at the ceiling too. I could sense his frustration, and I almost felt bad for ruining his fun.
“Let’s make a deal,” I said. I didn’t wait for him to respond.
“I give you a compliment, you tell me a secret.”
I could see the corner of his mouth turn up. He never stayed mad at me for long.
“Deal,” he agreed.
I cleared my throat. “You’re one of those people who’s never going to grow up-”
“You’re saying I’m immature? Do you want me to define compliment for you Elle?”
I groaned, “God you’re annoying! Would do just let me finish?”
He held his hands up in surrender.
I continued. “A lot of people seem to lose the best parts of themselves as they get older.”
I stared at the Christmas lights Jessie had strewn across the top of the fort. It was easier to admit the truth if I could pretend I was just talking to myself.
“They trust people less, they laugh less, they’re not as optimistic. Instead of being curious about the world, they become afraid of it. They wake up every day and think about what they haven’t accomplished and the things they don’t have instead of thinking about how amazing it is that they’re alive. They chalk miracles up to luck, or science. They stop smiling at strangers…I could never see you becoming like that. So in a way, I don’t think you’ll ever grow up. And I hope you never do.”
I let out a small gasp. Somewhere in the midst of my rambling, I had turned to face him. He was so close that I could feel his exhales on my cheek.
“I don’t know what to say,” he whispered. I saw those bright specks in his eyes that I’d been thinking of when I spoke. The ones that held the innocence that you would expect to have died anyway in a teenage boy but that made Jessie, Jessie.
“The typical response to a complement is actually quite simple; only two syllables. Thank you.”
I tried to dispel the intensity that lurked between us. But my voice was hushed. I felt as if I was going to break something precious if I spoke any louder or dared to blink.
A hint of a smile came over his lips, but for once I couldn’t read his eyes.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
He moved towards me and I waited for his lips to meet mine, but I felt them on my cheek instead.
“Thank you,” he whispered again.
I held my breath. This was unfamiliar territory. This was what I’d been afraid of today. But I wasn’t going to stop him. I closed my eyes. It was easier for me to push away my rambling thoughts when I concentrated on his lips. I felt them at the base of my jaw next. They were gentle, but I swear they left a mark.
“Thank you,” he whispered again.
He kissed my neck, “Thank you.”
Without thinking about it I turned to lie on my back and tilted my head back, inviting him to continue. It felt as if my body had a mind of its own.
He kissed my neck one more time and lingered. I could feel the impression of a smile on my throat. He lifted his head and pressed his lips to mine so quickly that the thoughts didn’t have a chance to interrupt.
Though his body floated above mine, I felt the weight of the world on his lips. He was gentle at first. Or at least he tried to be. But I wasn’t doing a good job of restraining myself either. I could feel a throbbing on my left side, right above my still-healing rib, but it seemed to go with the feeling in the rest of my body so I ignored it.
I realized, as my fingers touched bare skin, that his shirt had come off. I was pretty certain I was the one that had done that, but I only seemed capable of registering sensations, not actual occurrences.
Normally, being with Jessie was like running a mental marathon. One minute I would eagerly accept an invitation to spend time with him, another I would hate myself for it. I would be thinking about kissing him and wishing he would leave me alone in the same breath. I’m sure I confused him, but I confused myself even more. Somehow, none of this seemed to be a problem when he was kissing me. So, I didn’t want him to stop.
I didn’t let him pull away until both of us were gasping for breath. Instead of taking a break, his lips turned back to my neck, his kisses leading a fiery trail towards my shoulder as his cold hands slid under my shirt, sending involuntary shivers down my spine as they traveled up my back. His lips were back on mine before I’d remembered how to breathe again, their urgency multiplying as he kissed me. I’d lost any ability to think until his hands were on my bra, the elastic of it snapping back against my skin like a slingshot before I felt it loosen.
“I knew this was what you meant about cheering me up,” I said into his mouth.
I could feel my consciousness coming back.
His laugh ran through me, “I had innocent intentions, I promise.”
I moved my face away, just an inch, and sighed. Not a contented sigh but a ‘we both know this is probably a bad idea’ sigh.
He seemed to get the message. He even re-hooked my bra for me. And then slowly, reluctantly, his arms slid out from under my shirt. He paused halfway. For a moment I couldn’t figure out what he was looking at, and then I remembere
d.
“May I?” He asked.
I hesitated, and then nodded.
He pulled my shirt back up ever-so-slightly.
I shivered as his fingers lightly ran over the words.
“You are enough,” he whispered. It sounded like something between a statement and a question.
My eyebrows raised in surprise, “You speak Spanish?”
Eres suficiente.
That was what my tattoo said. It lay maybe half an inch below where my bra rested in a small, simple font. I’d actually gotten it done under less than stellar circumstances-a friend of a friend that wanted to become a tattoo artist once he got out of high school-but it helped me get through a dark period, especially with my eating disorder. And under some magical stroke of luck, it actually didn’t look bad and it never got infected.
He smiled, “I know the basics.”
His eyes went from my tattoo back up to mine. I hoped he wouldn’t ask me to explain.
He continued to run over the words with his thumb as he stared at me. Then, he lowered his head and I felt his lips where his thumb had been, where the words were. He lowered my shirt back down and moved his head back up to mine.
He continued to hover over me. Gently, he stuck his forehead to mine. “I never told you a secret,” he whispered.
I was grateful to him for changing the subject.
I let out a shaky laugh, “Later.”
Both of our heads moved as he nodded.
He moved to kiss my lips again, but with the same gentleness he’d started with, like this kiss was the bookend to this chapter.
--
I awoke to the strange suspicion that someone was breathing next to me. And then I remembered. My eyes opened in alarm. I was as awake as I’d ever been. What had I done?
I wanted to leave without waking him, but I knew it wasn’t going to happen. His legs were tangled with mine; the fort was so small that my space was his.
Suddenly, panic was replaced with despair. I moved his arm from my midsection and sat up slowly. In that moment, I would have done anything to go back in time and never have come here this summer.
In his sleeping form, Jessie seemed even more vulnerable. He’d been so trusting, so willing to share everything with me even when I knew he was scared to. And I hadn’t deserved any of it. How terrible a person could I have been to actually think this was okay?
There was no amount of pain in the world that could justify hurting the boy in front of me. I knew I would start crying any minute now so I inched towards the fort’s exit, which was unfortunately right by his feet.
I jumped when I felt his hand wrap around my arm, “Where are you going?” He asked groggily.
I closed my eyes, pushing away everything I’d been thinking about, and making sure that my voice wouldn’t give me away. I was grateful that my back was to him.
“Home,” I said slowly. “Believe it or not, I usually don’t spend the night with boys whose last names I don’t know.”
“It’s Baker,” he said. I could hear the smile in his voice.
“Well, thanks for the info. I’m gonna go now.”
He sat up, “Wait, what’s the rush? I can make breakfast.”
“You cook?” I asked in my most sarcastic tone. My eyes were still firmly shut.
“What I really meant, was that I would take you to breakfast.”
I was quiet. He placed his hand on my arm again, he was trying to get me to face him.
“It’s kinda weird talking to your back.”
When I didn’t respond, he crawled closer to the exit, where I was still lingering.
His smile faltered when he saw my face, “Is something wrong?”
“Nope,” I responded with a tight smile. “Nothing besides that hairdo anyway,” I said patting the top of his disheveled hair.
‘I shouldn’t even be allowed to touch him.’
“I know what you’re doing. You’re freaked out about last night. You don’t have to be. It was a good night…right?” He asked.
He hesitated, “You know I’d never do anything to hurt you…?”
I felt a piece of my heart break away. I’d never be able to say the same. I couldn’t respond.
“Say something. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
There was that pleading voice again. It was almost as if he could hear it every time I started to shut down. I tried not to concentrate on the circles he saw drawing on my arm. I didn’t deserve to feel better.
“I’m thinking…that I really need to go brush my teeth.”
The circles stopped. He stared at me with wide eyes, “That’s it?”
Even Jessie didn’t have infinite patience. I knew his was wearing thin. It wouldn’t take much longer before he would be done with me for good.
“Every time I think we’re getting somewhere…”
He didn’t bother to finish. I looked away.
He gripped my chin, raising my eyes towards his, “Eli, please, stay. Talk to me.”
I could hear desperation in his voice. This was my last chance. My phone rang.
I reached for it without a moment’s hesitation.
“Hello?” I said curiously. It was Ash calling.
“Eli?” Ash sounded as if she’d been crying.
“What is it?” I asked, almost too numb to panic.
I couldn’t understand a word she was saying, only that whatever was wrong had something to do with her parents.
“I’ll be right there,” I said.
I hung up and turned back to Jessie.
I took a deep breath, “Like I was saying, I have to go.”
His eyes told me that he was torn between disappointment and anger. I seemed to bring that combination out of him a lot. Today, he settled on anger.
“Whatever. Go,” he said rigidly.
And as much as it hurt, a part of me was glad he hated me.
It’s Tearing Up My Heart…
This morning had a rather alarming and unpleasant start. Rachel didn’t seem to have a problem being in the same room with me anymore, she unless it had to do with my injuries, she didn’t talk to me.
We both happened to be in the living room in the middle of breakfast, when out of the blue she said, “By the way, that guy that crashed into you, he’s dead.”
I almost spit out my coffee.
“What?”
“Complications from his surgeries,” she shrugged, not looking up from her food.
I stared, shocked, “How do you know?”
“It was in the newspaper, his funeral’s today,” she said casually.
What bothered me even more than the news was the nonchalant way in which she’d delivered it.
“Why do you sound like you’re just telling me the weather? Can you at least pretend you give a shit?”
“No, I can’t,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Rachel that’s an awful thing to say, and I know you’re not exactly the sweetest person but‒”
“He was an idiot. What he was doing was irresponsible and stupid. Not only did he put himself in danger but he put everyone on that track in danger. You could both be dead! We could have been burying you too today. So no, I don’t care! I don’t give a damn that that asshole is dead!”
I was bewildered; I hadn’t realized she had been so angry about the whole thing. I jumped when she slammed the front door. The whole house seemed to shudder.
---
“How are you doing?” I asked stupidly.
Things had been going really well for all of us. Rachel was having random tantrums and Ashton was a mess.
When she wasn’t crying into my shoulder she was locked in her room. And it showed; she looked completely different from the always presentable Ash I knew.
I hadn't seen her do anything except cry since that horrendous night with Jessie. So I thought it a miracle when I actually saw her come downstairs. She didn’t look too great, but still, it was progress.
I looked back at Rachel on the othe
r side of the kitchen, hoping she wouldn't say anything to ruin Ash's already fragile condition, but now she really wasn’t talking to me, and I figured asking would only have the opposite effect.
“Wow you look awful!”
I sighed. ‘So much for hoping.’
Ash sent Rachel a pointed glared before walking over to the fridge.
"Seriously, what's up with you? Is it Julian?"
She stood with the fridge open, her shoulders slumped and her head down. I could hear her starting to sob again.
"Enough with the questions," I said, annoyed.
I saw Ash sigh and turn around, then she wiped her face and sighed again.
"My parents are getting a divorce," she said, and then she started sobbing, as if the realization had hit her all over again.
"Oh...?" Though I would never let Ash know it, I was sympathetic to Rachel’s confusion.
I walked over to hug Ash when she started crying harder. I glared at Rachel, hoping she would get the hint.
"Look, it happens," Rachel finally finished.
I followed Ashton up the stairs in exasperation.
"I'm going back to bed," she sobbed, closing the door to her room before I could come in.
I sighed as I headed back downstairs. It was difficult for me to relate to Ash’s misery, and I had yet to find any comforting words for her.
Even though Rachel had undone all of Ash’s progress, it actually sounded like she was trying to help, in her own twisted way.
"Wow. You were actually trying to comfort her," I said in amazement.
"Always painting me to be the evil one. But between the two of us, you’d take that prize. You lie to everyone, including yourself, and it’s pathetic."
"I guess you have a lot to get of your chest today," I observed.
"Go to hell," she replied, continuing to glare at me even as I made tea, grabbed some food, and headed back to Ash’s room.
‘Ten points for consistency,’ I noted mentally.
---
It was routine now that I would check on Ash every morning. I knocked on her door, hoping her problems would help me forget about mine.
"Come in," I heard her say quietly.
She looked like she had showered, even though I could tell she had been crying again. Still, I was relieved to see she was making progress.
