Mine.
She feels so right when she is within my reach, and I can’t help but wonder how I’ve lasted so long without touching her. I can’t stop. I can’t go back from this addiction that I feel. She is my soul-bending addiction, and I won’t stop until I’ve consumed every drop of her.
I let my head fall back in the moonlight as we move together in perfect synchronized motion. I imagine myself consuming her. My hands grip her tightly at the thought. Total possession of my blue-eyed girl is my deep obsession. One I’ve grown to hate. An obsession I can’t seem to control as I lean forward, inhaling the scent of her hair as she continues to dance unaware.
What will be the end game? What will fulfill my deep need, my all-consuming craving of the girl in my arms? There is only one thing I can think of, one thing that might make me lose interest once and for all … Maybe I can get past this once I’ve had my fill and move on and be in control of myself once again.
Could I ever be rid of this need, or has it become so much a part of who I am I can no more separate her from my thoughts as I can remove a limb from my body?
We’ll see …
I continue dancing, touching, exploring her movements as I contemplate our fate until she finally leaves.
When Reed finally picked me up on Sunday, I was so nervous from anticipation that I was trembling. Whether it was from excitement or from fear of him not feeling the same way, I couldn’t rightly tell. I had taken so long to decide what to wear, standing in front of my closet, throwing things around the room before settling on a dark-blue dress. The dress would have gone perfectly with a short knit sweater that I accidentally left at Ice House on Friday. I’ll never see that again!
I put on a little makeup and curled the ends of my hair. I didn’t want to look like I was trying too hard, but I was also very aware that this was our first dinner date. Either way, I was having a hard time keeping my head clear, so when he asked me how my weekend was, I barely responded with a shrug.
“What’s wrong?” He had started the car but made no move to actually drive out of my driveway.
“Nothing. Why would anything be wrong?” I gave him a half smile that I didn’t quite feel.
Looking over with his brows furrowed, he said, “You’re acting weird. I’m not moving until you tell me.”
Stubborn man. Why does he have to be perceptive? His serious face is nothing but sexy. My mind starts to wander while I just sit there looking at him in the dark car. I can see his sweater pulled tight across his broad chest, his dark eyes patiently waiting for my response, which only makes it harder to speak.
I cautiously lean forward before I have the chance to change my mind, wrap my hand behind his neck, and kiss him. He’s surprised for only a moment before he leans into me, wrapping his arms around my back and pulling me closer to him. My tongue is saying what my words can’t as I pour everything I have into that kiss—all my fears, all my desires for him, and all my hopes for us as we invade one another’s mouth. He suddenly pushes me away, and I freeze.
“We shouldn’t do this here.” He looks sideways at my dad’s house but still keeps me close enough for me to feel his warm breath. “Let’s go somewhere else. I don’t want your dad storming out of your house to rip my arms off.”
My dad may be a nice guy, but every father has his limits so I agree. He clears his throat, and I move away from him, taking a deep breath. We stare at each other for a moment longer before he pulls away from the house.
We pull up to a restaurant, and he opens my door and gives me a helping hand out of the tall truck. I take it, glad to feel his touch again, and I feel like I am on fire. He pulls me against his chest and gives me a chaste kiss before pulling away.
“Later. First I’m going to feed you, princess,” he says, but his eyes are still hooded with barely contained attraction.
Dinner is great, despite the energy between us. We hold hands throughout the meal and talk about safe subjects, but his fingers draw slow circles on the back of my hand, keeping me very aware of his thoughts. His dark-green sweater makes his eyes seem more vivid, and they are keeping me quite preoccupied during dessert. He slowly leans in after giving the waiter back the bill with his card and gives me a kiss on the cheek. He lingers, keeping his face beside mine, allowing me to smell his faint cologne while feeling his stubble on my cheek. Some girls may be turned off by facial hair, not me. I never realized how sexy, how masculine it can feel against my skin. It makes me wonder—No, no. Don’t even go there.
“Thank you for coming to dinner with me,” he whispers in my ear, and suddenly I feel him nip at my earlobe. Holy mother—
We need to leave quickly. I squirm in my seat to keep my mind off of how much that affected me. He notices and pulls away slowly with a knowing smirk on his face. This boy is trouble. He may have a heart of gold, but he is still a guy, and it is getting harder to determine what this is between us and where we stand. But I can no longer deny that there is something between us and that there is no way I could just be friends with him. I don’t want to ever be just friends with him.
If I am honest with myself, I never did.
“Dannie I've been meaning to talk to you about something that's been bothering me.” He looks nervous as he suddenly avoids my eyes. He runs a hand through his hair as if he is struggling to find the words. What is this about? “I wanted to confess something. Something I think you should know before we start … anything. I think you deserve to know.”
Oh crap. This can't be good.
“Dannie before I moved here I wasn't the same person I am now. Well, I guess I was always this guy I just didn't know it. I didn't want to.” He pauses before taking a deep breath and grabbing my hand gently. “I was a jerk. I was a punk kid that treated the people around me like shit. I lied and snuck around my parents, I pranked people, was constantly wasted, and was a total bully.” He loses his courage as he looks straight ahead at the table, “I'm ashamed to say that I became a bully after being bullied. I hated that the kids made fun of me, my family, how I talked. So, the bigger I got the meaner I got. I was lucky to have my sister to tell me to shut my mouth for the worst of it. I had my best friend Marcus to pull me back before I tried some really stupid things I could've been in a lot of trouble for, but mostly I'm glad I came here and could start fresh. I wanted to be me, ya' know? Just me.” He looks at me with the saddest face I've ever seen and his shame is apparent in that look.
I may not know specifics, Reed will tell me when he's ready, but I can understand the need to have a fresh start and finally be aloud to become the person your circumstances were preventing you from becoming. Who am I to judge? Who am I to hold that against anybody?
“Thanks for sharing with me Reed.”
He looks surprised for a moment before exhaling. “I was so sure you'd never want anything to do with me after you found out.”
“Why on earth would you think that!?” I laugh at the mention of his fear.
He squeezes my hand before he simply says, “Jett.”
I sit staring at him with a profound sense of understanding. He's right. I have been bullied by Jett but now I see the other side of it. Jett wasn't always a bully, in fact I knew him well before he became my personal hell, and the flip side of it is that Jett might feel as much pain and regret as Reed does. The real question is whether or not I am willing to forgive him. If I can forgive Reed, shouldn't I forgive Jett? Reed was never my bully but he certainly was someones, and as long as I hold a grudge against Jett I will forever be bound to him in anger.
“I forgive Jett.” The moment I say the words I recognize how true they are. I do forgive Jett, even if he still has occasional relapses and feels the need to lash out towards me, because in the end I can handle it. It really is over and I don't have to fear my bully anymore.
Reed gets up from the table, reaching out his hand expectantly, suddenly looking nervous. I know that whatever comes next will change the definition of us.
I. Can’t. Breathe.
We make it to the field before we are once again staring at each other, both nervous to make the first move. He takes my face in both his hands and leans forward, gently biting before kissing. He kisses like a man looking for air. Starved. I never realized what kissing really was; when he kisses me he kisses me with his whole body wrapping himself around me, gentle but possessive.
It changed my entire perspective on kissing.
We kiss for an unknowable amount of time, lost in one another, but keep it PG-ish. Not surprising considering he’s Reed—respectful, patient, and a little bit shy. He walks me to my door with one light kiss and walks back to his truck. I stare at the perfect guy, after the perfect date, having experienced the perfect kiss.
What more can I ask for? Life is going pretty good from where I am standing.
I lie awake in bed, and after a night like this, it’s no wonder I can’t get to sleep. Memories of her body pressed against mine haunt me as I lie there alone. Alone. I scrub my hand down my face to clear my head slightly. It doesn’t really work, but we’ll pretend.
After graduation, I want to ask her to be my girlfriend. Officially. Unofficially, she owns my heart, but does she know that? I’m not so sure. But she has had so much going on lately, it has never felt like the right time. Maybe I’m just a pansy, too afraid that she means more to me than I mean to her.
When did I become so insecure?
Ignoring my self-deprecating thoughts, I make a long-overdue decision. I’ll take her out, maybe on a moonlit walk. So cheesy, but chicks like that sort of thing. Or another picnic maybe? Perfect. I’ll buy her flowers and then ask her out. I’ve been hoping over time she will fall as in love with me as I am with her, because this is it for me. I know in my gut that I'm hers. I’m going to help her through whatever she has gone through because I truly believe I’m meant to. I am a firm believer in fate, and she is mine.
She doesn’t even know that I’m graduating early either. I applied to a few universities, and I got into the same one Dannie is going to. I’ll start during the spring semester, but that is not even six months of long distance. Piece of cake.
I feel elated at the thought of us going to college together—being together. I can still feel her heart beating so fast under my fingers, her breath on my mouth as I kiss her. I smile at the smell of vanilla that is all over me. I love it.
I text her quickly.
xoxo, princess
She replies immediately.
xoxo
Monday morning, I get to school early in order to grab some coffee for Dannie and me. As I’m waiting in line, I notice Melody sitting on a bench not far from Dannie’s locker, looking like she’s been crying. I pay for three drinks and head in the direction of Dannie’s best friend. I tread carefully, trying not to splash hot coffee from the three cups I’m now carrying. As I draw closer, I notice the moment Melody realizes I’m headed in her direction. She furiously wipes the tears off her face, trying to hide the fact that she’s been crying.
I have a sister, so I’m no stranger to women’s tears, but by the way she is looking around, she seems to be embarrassed by them. Perhaps she wants me to pretend I didn’t see them?
“Here you go,” I say with a smile, handing her a cup of coffee. She looks up at me, obviously shocked I got her coffee. Do I seem like an inconsiderate jerk? I look down at myself, questioning what I might look like to her. I sit next to her, silently waiting for her to say something first, and I notice her covering her wrists with her long sleeves nervously.
“Th-thanks for the coffee, Reed. I can see why Dannie likes you. You’re sweet …” She blows on the coffee to cool it before taking a small sip, trying not to draw attention to the tears in her eyes.
I take a deep breath. “Melody, are you okay?”
She just bows her head as if the weight of my words are too much for her to bear. “I’m not sure, Reed. I’m really not.” As she lifts her hand again to take another sip, her sleeve moves just enough to reveal a thin red line. A cut. I’ve noticed the scars on her inner arm before in class. Most are covered by tattoos so they are hard to notice but not impossible, although none looked recently made—until now that is.
This comes as more than a shock to me. I had asked Dannie about them before, but she insisted Melody hadn’t struggled with cutting in a long time. She said it was something Melody had done when she suffered from depression long before she had even come to this school. So why the fresh cut?
Melody notices the direction of my gaze and quickly covers her wrist again. “Pretty gruesome, huh?”
“Why?” is all I can think of to say. I have never met anyone who struggled with something like this, so I’m at a loss for what to do.
“It’s nothing. Really, I’ve just had a rough few months … with Jay … and my mom. It’s all been a little too much for me to handle.” She looks at me like she’s sorry even though she has nothing to apologize for.
What do you say to that?
“Can I help?”
“No. Please don’t say anything to Dannie … She has enough on her plate already.”
Although I agree with her about Dannie, I can’t just do nothing. It doesn’t feel right.
She continues softly. “I haven’t in so long, but I guess I just slipped up, ya know?”
No, I don’t know, and that’s the problem. I don’t know how to help, but I suppose if she wanted my help she would ask for it. I will be keeping a close eye on her though. If it happens again, I’ll have to say something to Dannie.
I just don’t know what to do to help.
For all the time Reed and I spend together in school and out of school, we continue as friends, teetering on the edge of something more but not quite crossing it. Weeks have gone by since that first dinner together. We go on dates or spend weekends watching movies, having picnics, and goofing off, but we have kept everything relatively innocent. I know that it is responsible to take our time, but a part of me feels like I am going insane. We hold hands, occasionally kiss, and sometimes even have earth-shattering make-out sessions, but he has never called me his girlfriend, nor has he asked me like a junior-high schooler, “Will you be my girlfriend?” I’d totally take that rather than this limbo at this point. Maybe I shouldn’t care so much about labels.
On the other hand, my home life seems to be remarkably mundane. My dad spends his evening helping me with homework. We go to dinner as a family occasionally and see movies on weekends. If I get a good grade, he takes me for a banana split. It’s a little Leave It to Beaver, and I am loving every moment of it.
Sue has slowly tapered off her nightly phone calls to Avery until they only occur about once a week. Clearly, for all her sob stories and guilt trips, she isn’t missing us too much. A part of me worries about the repercussions our decision to leave might have for Ryan and Amanda, but there really isn’t anything I can, or should, do. I can’t spend my life trying to keep a family that is doomed together. My mother made her choice, and I am not going to suffer or sacrifice any more for her.
It kills me to have been forced to walk away. What do you do when your own mother wants nothing to do with you? Fears and insecurities crawl around in my thoughts because she made it seem like it was our fault, like it was my fault. A lifetime of being the family scapegoat has made it easy to shoulder a burden that isn’t mine to bear. But old habits die hard.
I’m cramming in study time in the library at lunch when I see coffee lowered in my view. Oh mercy. I smell it while I reach for it like an addict finding her next hit. Mmm café au lait …
“I thought you might need a pick-me-up from all the late nights and early morning study time.” Reed lowers himself into the chair beside me. I look at him over the rim of the paper cup, not sure which I like more, my morning coffee or the boy sitting next to me.
Caffeine or muscles?
“Morning,” I finally say. “And thank you for the coffee. I really need caffeine this week. Pressure’s on.”
He nods while
lacing his fingers through mine. I start to wonder where we stand, but I don’t want to ruin the moment so I stay silent and turn back to my work. Last week. Relationships can wait.
“Sunset or sunrise?”
“Sunrise. It’s so full of possibilities.”
I stop what I'm doing suddenly. “I’ve been thinking; I need to talk to Sue.” I pause, letting the awkwardness of the topic I’ve brought up settle in.
Reed immediately stops and turns toward me. “Why?”
“I feel like I need to let her know what she did was wrong because I don’t think she knows what she did was unacceptable. I need her to know just how hurt I am, how angry, but that I don’t hate her.” I shake my head, clearing my emotions. “She calls my sister all the time crying. I can tell she’s frustrated that I don’t pick up her calls. What I really need is for her to back off and give me some space, but she isn’t going to do that unless I explain to her why. Does that make sense?” I’m rambling, but I don’t really care. It might not make sense to anyone else, but it feels like something I need to do. It’s been bugging me for a while, but I didn’t really realize why until recently.
Reed considers what I’ve said before shrugging. “I don’t understand. You’re right; I don’t think she deserves an explanation, but if it’s something you need to do in order to let go, then you should do it.” He looks a little lost for a moment, as if not knowing if he has the right to be upset. “If you need someone there, I’d be happy to go with you,” he adds quickly.
I smile sadly, “Thanks, but I think I need to do this with my dad and Mary.”
Nodding before continuing, he says, “So once you’ve called Sue and aced your finals, can we celebrate? Say, this weekend?” He leans in and brushes my cheek with a kiss, lingering so that I can enjoy the feel of his stubble. The man knows me; that’s for sure. I turn so that our noses are practically touching.
The Face You See Page 15
