by Yessi Smith
He wanted one truth. That’s all I had anyway.
“I like you,” I whispered, meeting his shock with tears tracking down my face. “Yesterday, when everyone asked me why I didn’t go to the dance, I told them I was with you.” Using the back of my hand, I wiped my nose on a sniffle. “And after today, I think everyone knows we’re together. You’re the only truth I have, the only part of myself I’m not ashamed of.”
Another sob wrenched from my body at his silence. I stood there, shaking and crying, waiting for the boy to love me back.
“Are we…” A strangled cry ripped from my throat. I took in a shaky breath, steadied my heart. “Are we still together?”
“God, Brinley.”
He fisted a hand in my hair and crushed his lips over mine. His kiss was hard. It tasted like hurt. It was rough. It felt like a promise.
His head fell to rest against mine. I breathed in his exhales.
“Of course, we’re still together.”
The hands that moved to brace my face shook, and I wrapped my fingers around his wrists. The corners of my lips turned up, but it hurt to smile.
“You’re my only truth.” My voice shook with every word. “Is it enough?”
He brought me in for a hug, pressed me close to his chest.
“No.” The word brushed against my ear. “But we’re gonna find all your truths, and when we do, you’re gonna share them with the world. You have nothing to hide from.”
I nodded.
He was wrong though. I had everything to hide.
We didn’t get much commotion in our sleepy, little beach town. The occasional traveling surfer most of the girls congregated to. And a few teenage pregnancies because of those surfers.
Bonfires on the beach, that’s really as crazy as we got.
Our local police didn’t bother us when we threw those parties as long as we didn’t cause trouble. According to my dad, it was a passage of right. So I went to them, nursed a bottle of beer and spun circles around everyone I knew.
The only difference between tonight’s party and the others was that it was the start of our spring break, and the day before Roderick’s birthday. Three months had passed since Roderick and I got together.
He still hated being around a crowd. He still went out to make me happy.
I was selfish and took what he so willingly offered.
In the months we’d shared together, we’d come up with a good compromise. While we went out with my friends a couple times a week, we spent a lot of time in our cave or in my room talking, writing, or kissing.
Kissing was my favorite.
And we spent holidays together, even Christmas where my mom came back to me for a few hours.
Our only holiday rule: no big crowds.
New Year’s Eve was one I would remember forever. We hung out on the roof of my house eating grapes and watching the fireworks go off from the beach. My dad spent it with my mom instead of Lindsey. Loud noises made my mom’s episodes worse and although Bridgette was there and knew how to handle my mom better than my dad or I ever did, he wanted to be there too. Just in case.
We had a double date on Valentine’s Day with Danny and Ari, who were together but not as open about their relationship as we were. Since neither of them wanted to go to a restaurant and couldn’t take the other to their house and risk their parents finding out about them, we brought them to our cave. At first I was nervous about them reading our poems, but Roderick made me feel like I could do anything. Be anything.
The picnic I packed us was fun. When they read our poems, and we told them exactly how we wound up together. They gushed over our story, and then demanded to write their own poem. Roderick handed them a marker, and they left the mark of their love on our wall.
I had plans for tomorrow for Roderick’s birthday, and with Danny and Ari’s help, I was going to turn our cave into the most romantic spot.
I just had to get him through tonight.
“That’s like your third beer,” I told Roderick when he came up from behind me and circled his hands around my waist.
He kissed me neck, flicked his tongue against my quickening pulse. Warmth pooled in the pit of my belly. I twisted in his arms to face him, and when he kissed my lips, I pulled away.
“Did you do shots too?” I asked.
He hung his head. His dark hair fell across his face. The gesture reminded me of a little boy in trouble. It was cute. He was cute.
“No more, okay?” I framed his face with my hands.
He pulled his bottom lip in with his teeth and nodded. I couldn’t help but stare at him. This guy was beautiful. And he was mine.
“I can’t take you to your aunt’s house drunk.”
He grinned. It was lopsided and lazy. “If my aunt and I have another fight, I can always stay at your place again. I miss sleeping with you.”
I ran my hand over his neck where his pulse beat wildly as if it were racing my own heartbeat. We hadn’t slept together since he moved back in with his aunt. She wasn’t my biggest fan and although Roderick insisted me sleeping over wouldn’t be a problem, I didn’t want to overstay my welcome and not be allowed back in.
“I miss sleeping with you too. Maybe you should text your aunt and tell her you’re not going home tonight.”
“Home.” The word sounded bitter.
“Your aunt’s house,” I amended. “I’m your home.”
Big blue eyes snapped back at me, and this time when he smiled it reached my heart.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “You’re my home.”
“Brinley!”
I turned at the sound of my name and forced a practiced smile on my face when Nicole sauntered to us with Mariah by her side. They balanced two trays of shots as they weaved around our classmates.
Nicole held out a shot for me, but I shook my head.
“Oh c’mon, Brin!” Mariah whined. Her voice, the tone grated on my nerves. “Have fun with us.”
“I’m good, thanks.” I tipped the end of my beer bottle at them.
“Just stop, for one night, stop being perfect,” Mariah said.
I bristled at her words. She didn’t get how badly I needed perfection, to maintain that image. If I drank, if I let go of those inhibitions, I was scared of what I might say. Because what if I let down my guard, let everyone see me for who I was and no one liked what they saw?
Roderick stumbled to my side, dropped a heavy arm on my shoulder and kissed the side of my head. “She is perfect.”
“Says the freak.” Nicole snorted.
“Grow up.” I scoffed. “Just grow the hell up already.”
“Oh.” Nicole’s eyes lit up, a slow smile stretched across her face.
It made my stomach drop, and I twined my hands with Roderick’s to get away from them.
“What’s this?” she called out, taking out a folded piece of paper from her pocket. “What do you think your perfect Brinley wrote about you not even a month before you got together?”
Fear cloaked over me, but it didn’t hide me. Only made me more visible. I didn’t remember what I’d written, but knew it wouldn’t be good.
She stretched out her hand, holding the paper between two fingers. I went to take it from her, but she pulled it away with a laugh.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said to Roderick. “Whatever I wrote was never true.”
Turning his attention to me, he ran his hands through the long strands of his hair, making the muscles on his arm flex. “Read it to me,” he said. “I want to know what you said.”
“No.” I shook my head. “Whatever it says doesn’t matter.”
He dropped his head and rested it on my forehead. “It matters to me.”
“Don’t do this, Roderick.” It came out rushed, urgent, scared. “You know who I was, why I did and said things I didn’t mean. You know me now. Don’t make me read something that’ll hurt you. Hurt us.”
On a laugh, Mariah took the paper from Nicole and started to unfold it. We watched her, my l
imbs shaking, my heart shattering.
“You already know then,” Roderick said, pulling away with a quick jerk. Hurt glistened in his eyes. “You may not know exactly what you wrote, but it’s what you thought about me.”
“No,” I stammered out.
He turned away, stared at Mariah, as if he were waiting for her to read aloud words that would end us.
“I love you,” I said. Taking his face in my hands, I forced him to look at me. “I love you, Roderick. Every poem I’ve ever written, every scribbled line on our wall, they’re all for you. They were written with the image of you in my mind, in my heart. Can’t you see?” I rushed on. “I always knew it was you reading them. I wanted you to know me, when I hid from everyone else.” My voice wobbled, each word trembling with conviction. “Every song we’ve danced to, every poem we’ve written together, every kiss we’ve shared, they’re because of you. Everything good I have to offer, it’s for you. You’re my truth, my whole world. Whatever that piece of paper says, doesn’t fucking matter. The only truth you need to know is that I love you.”
He touched my lips with his forefinger, grazed it across my cheek. “You cussed.” His lips twitched.
I laughed, but it held no humor. “That’s what you heard? I told you I love you and all you hear is me dropping the F-bomb?”
“I heard that too.” This time he smiled. “I love you too.”
He tipped his head down, his lips almost touching mine. I wanted this kiss, wanted his breath dancing with mine.
Mariah cleared her throat, and we broke away before we made contact. Nicole came from behind her, snatched the paper from her hand. Mariah protested but to my relief, Nicole threw it into the nearby fire. Sparks crackled and flew to the night sky.
“Brin’s right,” Nicole said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Whatever it says doesn’t matter. Seems like the freak found his princess. How fitting.” She scoffed.
I skimmed a hand over the back of his neck, ignoring Mariah and Nicole when they left. When I brought my lips to his, my pulse quickened like it always did. Thousands of emotions I never knew I would feel, clenched in my stomach. Like it always did.
Kissing Roderick wasn’t as simple as kissing. It was poetry he orchestrated with the rhythm of his lips against mine; his tongue dancing with mine as his hands roamed over my back and arms, neck and face. I was his greatest prose, composed by a moment that was anything but simple.
“Drink some water, sober up a bit, so I can take you home.”
He traced the outline of my face with his long fingers. “You’re my home.” He said the words as if he couldn’t believe they were true, as if he were afraid they weren’t.
Gripping onto his wrists, I squeezed. “You’re my home,” I whispered back.
His lips touched mine, moved them against mine. Soft yet consuming. Intimate, yet a burning flame of passion that immersed my soul.
“I love you, Roderick,” I said against our kiss.
His fingers dove into my hair where he dug and pulled my head to the side to deepen the kiss. It was as if with this kiss, he could delve past my shredded heart, take away all the wrong I’d done. It was as if he wanted to burrow himself inside me, fix the broken, and latch on while he lost himself in me. And I lost myself in him.
I clung onto him, my breaths falling quickly when we parted. I reached for his face, touched his cheeks, his lips, his nose. Memorized everything about his features in this moment. The moment I almost crushed us. The moment he forgave me. The moment he knew the depth of my love.
Dropping my hands, I held his and guided us through the crowd. After picking up two bottles of water, I led us to the lifeguard post. We climbed the ramp and when we reached the top, we sat with our backs leaned against the frame of the small house.
I crawled into his lap, held myself tight against his chest.
I could’ve lost him, almost did, because I was stupid. Because I pretended to be someone I wasn’t in order to keep my spot on the top.
On a cry, I buried my face in to his neck. Breathed him in.
“Baby.” Concern made his voice shake. “What’s wrong?”
I shook my head, wiggled my body closer to his.
Hands that had shown me how beautiful love felt, smoothed my hair back. “Don’t cry, baby.” His voice, I could listen to his voice forever, and it wouldn’t be enough. “Please don’t cry.”
“I can’t lose you.” I hiccupped in to his neck.
“I’m right here.” He pressed a kiss into my hair. “I’m not going anywhere. Desperately together, remember?”
“That note… whatever I wrote… Roderick.” I hugged him tighter when his hand stilled in my hair. “I hate myself. I…”
“Don’t say that,” he interrupted. “Don’t say that to me, Brinley.” He pulled me back, braced his hands on my shoulders and squeezed. “You can’t hate yourself. You can’t. Do you hear me?”
With the back of my hand, I wiped my nose. “I hurt you. I…”
“You did,” he interrupted again. He did that often, like he didn’t want people to finish their thoughts. “You hurt me, but it’s okay.”
“It’s not okay. Me hurting you is never going to be okay.” I paused, not wanting to keep going, knowing I had to. “I could’ve destroyed this. Us. When you’re my favorite part of every day. Why would I do that?”
He shrugged his shoulders and when they fell, they slumped forward. “Nicole said you wrote the note a month before we started dating.” Dropping his hands from my shoulders, he brought them to his side and gripped the wood boards we sat on.
“You never deserved whatever I wrote.” More tears spilled. “No one deserved the things I said, least of all you. I’m sorry.” I tilted my head down when I climbed out of his lap. I hugged my knees to my chest. “I’m so sorry.”
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t outrun my mistakes. They were always there, waiting to strike and remind me of the person that waited just beneath the surface.
Beside me, Roderick stood up and went to the railing where he stared out into the ocean. I waited for him to leave me. For everything I’d put him through to finally be too much.
When he turned back to me, he held out a hand. I took it. I’d always take his hand.
Music started to play from his phone. He placed one hand on my waist, used the other to bring my hand to his chest where I felt his heart thump hard.
“Dance with me,” he said.
He didn’t tug me to him, but waited for me to reply. I went to him, rested my chest against his, brought my unused hand to the nape of his neck where I played with his hair.
We swayed slowly, had barely completed a circle when the first song ended and the second one began. He didn’t let go and neither did I.
“I’m the one who’s sorry,” he whispered, his head bent down with the side of his face pressed against mine.
I tried to pull back, but his hand on my back kept me in place.
“I never saw past my problems to see yours.”
“Roderick, I never wanted you to see them.”
He sighed softly, his warm breath tickling my cheek. “I was supposed to be your best friend. I should’ve seen how much you needed me.”
My bottom lip trembled at his words. The truth was in all my pushing and manipulation, I kept hoping someone would see. Would care enough to look.
“We both know how cruel I can be.” It came out angry and I had to stop myself from lashing out when all I wanted was to be held. To be forgiven.
“You’re only mean when you feel cornered.”
I dropped my head to his chest. “That’s the thing, isn’t it? I always felt cornered. You-you noticed something was wrong when I went back to school after my mom’s first episode. You asked questions, do you remember?”
I needed him to remember. I hoped he didn’t.
“It was the first time I lashed out at anyone. The last time we hung out,” I continued, gripping the fingers that held mine. “Do you rememb
er what I said to you after you asked me if I was okay?”
“You…” He blew out a breath. “You told me my parents were never coming back.”
The memory of his broken expression, of the pain in his eyes twisted in my gut. I held onto it. The way his eyes rimmed with unshed tears. The way he wrapped his arms around his body. The way he waited for me to finish.
“I told you…” The words shook in my chest, made my heart beat with so much pain I didn’t know how I’d survive it.
“If I hadn’t begged them to get ice cream for me, they wouldn’t have been in a car accident and would still be alive,” he said.
Air whooshed from my lungs. Dizzy, I let go of Roderick. Rather than let me fall, he held on tighter.
“You were right.”
“I wasn’t,” I argued, but my voice, my strength was gone. “I was wrong.”
“I let you go after that.” He hesitated, but his hold on me remained firm. “Watched you push away everyone but Danny while you made new friends. I wondered…” He cleared his throat. “I wondered why you still wanted Danny, but not me.”
“I tried to push Danny away too.” It came out so low I barely heard the words.
“He didn’t let you. I shouldn’t have let you. Fuck, I’m sorry, Brin.” His voice broke, and he brought me closer to him.
I kept my hands to the side, fisted the empty air around us.
“I’m so sorry, Brin.” He kissed my cheek. “I shouldn’t have let you go.”
“Of course, you should have.”
He shuddered when I brushed my hands over his arms.
“Anyone would have after the things I said.”
He bowed his head when I brought my fingers to his neck and ran them through his hair. As he rested his head on my shoulder, I pressed my cheek to his.
“I should’ve been in the car with them, not in my neighbor’s living room waiting for them.” Still, he sounded so broken. My broken and sad boy. “I should’ve died with them.”
“No.” The fear of losing him made me want to scream. “I know I pushed you away, I know I made you feel like you didn’t matter,” I gripped the back of his shirt. “I’m glad you weren’t with your parents. I’m glad you didn’t die. I’m glad you’re here with me. I know it isn’t enough but…”
