“No. Don’t, please. Don’t hide from me.” Can’t you feel that this is tearing me up, too? Can’t you tell I’m second-guessing all of it? Why did I let you talk me into going away… I could be staying closer, going to community college, seeing you every day…
Kneeling next me, Michael placed his hands on either side of my face and forced me to look up at him. I could see and feel the distress, guilt and anguish he was struggling to hide.
“Please,” he said again. “We need to face this together. Don’t pull away from me. Remember, I can’t hear what’s going on in your head.”
In answer, I released my arms from around my legs and instead wrapped them around his neck, pulling him closer to me. His lips covered mine, first with the gentle touch I knew so well, and then with an increasing urgency that matched my own.
I fell back on the blanket, keeping a grip on Michael’s shoulders and bringing him down with me. He propped himself over me, leaning on his elbows to keep his weight from my body and holding my face tenderly with his two hands. His lips never left mine, and his thoughts were pounding with the same passion I felt rolling all around us.
There was a recklessness within me that was completely new and unfamiliar as I knotted my hands in his hair. My thinking wasn’t clear, but my body knew what it wanted. And Michael’s mind was heading in the same direction, although nothing was quite complete or coherent.
And then abruptly, he ripped himself away from me and landed back on the blanket. Cool air rushed over my face and I gasped, feeling bereft.
“What? Did I…” I swallowed convulsively, trying to slow my heart. “Are you okay? Is something wrong?” I focused on his mind, wanting to discern exactly what he was thinking.
“Tasmyn…” His eyes were closed, and he was breathing heavily. “We can’t—we shouldn’t do—this—based on desperation.”
Heat flooded my face, and shame and humiliation battled in my heart. It wasn’t in my nature to be so bold or assertive when it came to our limited physical relationship. We had made the joint decision early on that neither of us wanted to rush into anything that we weren’t ready to do, and we were always careful to avoid prolonged time together in completely private situations—temptations, as Michael called them. But tonight felt different.
“I didn’t mean to—to push,” I said softly, unable to meet his eyes. “I thought you wanted it, too.”
“Tas, you know I did. I do. Don’t look away.” He rolled onto his side and put his fingers beneath my chin. “I’m not upset. But I don’t want us to—to fall into this. It’s a decision, and one we made right at the beginning. If that changes, if one of us changes how we feel about it, then we need to talk about it.
“And even though every bit of me wanted to keep going tonight, I know… if we did this tonight, how would I ever leave you tomorrow?”
I knew he spoke the truth, and some spark of realization rose to the surface. Was that why I was pushing for this, because in some part of my mind, I saw it as another way to bind him to me? It was a disturbing possibility, one I was almost afraid to share with Michael.
I drew in a deep, fortifying breath. “I think somewhere deep inside me, I knew that. I’m sorry. I didn’t think I was that kind of girl.”
Michael traced my face with the very tip of his finger. “Tas, you’re not. I know you didn’t set out to do anything tonight. And I’m not saying there wasn’t a moment—well, maybe longer than a moment—when I thought, why not? But when we do have our first night together, I want it to be special. Not because we’re both afraid of losing each other. Not because things are changing. But because we’ve made the decision, deliberately.”
I nodded, unable to trust my voice. I knew there was more to my own motivation, and I had to share it with Michael, even though I wanted to bury it.
“I think… you’re right. I’m scared. There’s a part of me that’s afraid of you going away and being around all those girls who will be more than willing to give you—to do what we almost did. And how can I compete with that?”
He groaned and lay back again, not answering me out loud right away. Tasmyn, to me, there IS no other girl. There never could be. Since the first day I saw you, I haven’t seen another female—not in that way. How could I? You fill my heart, my mind, my senses. There’s not room for anyone else. And that won’t change, no matter how far away I am or how long we’re apart.
“Tas,” he began. This time I rolled to my side and put my finger over his lips.
“Shhh. I know. I heard. I want to believe that. It’s not that I don’t trust you. But I still can’t quite accept that I’m worthy of you, and of your feelings. I still think you’re in some kind of trance and once you get away, you’ll realize it really isn’t me, after all. That I’m not the one you’re meant to love.”
“If we’re going to get through this, you have to trust not only in me, you have to trust in yourself. If you can’t imagine what I see in you, why I love you, then just… listen. And look. Concentrate.”
He closed his eyes, holding my hand tightly in his. I did the same, focusing on his mind, which was always so open to me. And beyond his murmurs of endearment and declarations of love, I caught an image. It took me a few seconds to realize that it was myself I was seeing—and that I was seeing me through his eyes. There was only beauty there, and softness, and compassion. The pictures shifted, changing slightly, and I realized that he was remembering the past year. Most were happy, laughing recollections, and then one came into focus that made us both sober. I saw myself lying on the forest floor, bloody and bruised, white and still. I felt the sense of anguishing loss that Michael had experienced for a brief time on that day. Tears came to my eyes again, but this time, they were tears of understanding.
“I thought that day that I’d lost you,” Michael murmured. “I never, ever want to feel that again. I’m not losing you. You’re not losing me. We’re moving to the next part of our life together. It’s just another phase, and it’s going to bring us closer to where we want to be—together. To a time when we’ll never have to say goodbye again.”
“I don’t know if I can be strong when you’re not here,” I whispered. “I can’t imagine being here without you.”
“You’re stronger than you know, Tasmyn. You’ll be all right. And remember that you’re not going into a new place. You have friends at school, and you have the nursery. My mom and dad will be here for you, whenever you need them. And of course, I’m always just a phone call away.”
“It won’t be the same,” I mumbled.
“No, and maybe some of that is good. Last year was a big change for you. You came here, you made friends, and you’ve been learning how to manage your mind-hearing in a new way. Now you have the chance to keep it going. If I stayed here, maybe you wouldn’t be forced to step out on your own so much. I want you to have a perfect senior year. Experience it all. I’ll be learning about college life, and then next year…” He smiled as he rolled over to face me, so that his eyes were very close to mine. “Next year, we’ll be together again. And I think, even though it’s going to be tough, that we’ll be better for it. Stronger.”
He leaned in and kissed me then, in the lightest, most tender caress.
I tried to cling to those words the next morning, as Marly, Luke and Michael loaded the car. I had spent the night at the nursery, bunking with Lela in her room. I had tossed and turned all night, but as far as I could tell, I hadn’t bothered her. Still yawning and sleepy now, she perched on the deck, watching all of the bustle with amusement. I kept as busy as I could, packing and loading, never stopping to think or feel.
When it was finally time for them to leave, I steeled myself to send him off with a smile. Michael pulled me close to him while his parents discreetly looked away.
“Remember what I said,” he breathed into my ear. “Be strong. Never doubt me. Never doubt us.”
“I will. I’ll remember. You, too.”
He kissed me, quickly but with great mean
ing and banked passion. The tears crept up behind my eyelids, but I pushed them back, and I concentrated on hearing and treasuring every word he was thinking.
Finally, he pulled away from me, with a last squeeze of my arm. He was blinking as he looked down at me.
“I love you.”
And then he was gone, climbing in the car with one last wave to Lela. Marly blew me a kiss, the sympathy in her eyes spilling over into the feelings I absorbed so easily. The car pulled away, into the woods and then out of sight.
I couldn’t move, but suddenly, neither could I stand. The cold reality of Michael’s leaving hit with a force that robbed me of breath, and an iron fist gripped my heart. The pain was real, and it was unbearable. I dropped to the ground, gasping.
Lela was next to me instantly. “Come on. Let’s go inside. I’ll make you some tea.”
“Can’t…” I tried to suck in air. “Can’t move.”
I felt Lela’s concern ratchet up into real worry. “Come on, sweetie. You can’t stay out here. We need to go inside. I’ll help you.”
She managed to pull me to my feet and up the steps. I fell into the first kitchen chair I saw. Lying on the table were Michael’s keys to the Mustang, tossed casually there for me.
The sight of them broke me. I lay my head on the table, and everything I’d been struggling to keep deep down inside rose to the surface. And the dark took over.
The first few days after Michael left passed in a blur. I had promised to stay at the cabin with Lela, so that she didn’t have to be out in the woods by herself, and afterwards, I could see the beauty of the plan. With Lela, I didn’t have to pretend or put on a happy face as I would have done at home with my parents.
After my initial crying jag had passed, leaving me numb, she bundled me into blankets on the sofa and turned on some television talk show. I lay staring at the high ceiling until oblivion overcame me, and I slept.
When I woke, the light was different, and I panicked. I sat up and cast my mind around the cabin, searching for Lela. I finally picked up her thoughts, muted and concerned, and I called her name.
She appeared in the doorway from the hall, smiling brightly. “Well, hello, lazybones! I thought you were going to sleep the clock around.”
“What time is it?” I asked, still trying to orient my thoughts.
“It’s after four. I was just getting ready to head down to the nursery and see about closing up.”
I frowned in distress. “I’m sorry. You didn’t need to stay up here and babysit me all day.”
“It wasn’t a problem. I had lots to do, and it was kind of nice to have some time on my own.” She perched on the edge of the sofa and peered at me, still trying to mask her anxiety. “Are you hungry? You haven’t eaten all day. I arranged for dinner to come over.”
I raised one eyebrow. “Dinner’s coming over?”
“Yes. I was just—” There was a knock at the door, and Lela laughed. “Matter of fact, that’s probably it now.” She sprinted over and threw open the door.
Anne staggered in, arms full of bags. “I hope everyone’s hungry, because I have enough food to feed an army. Hey, Tas!” She greeted me smoothly with a smile, but I heard what she was thinking quite clearly.
Lela was right. She looks terrible.
I tried to keep my face expressionless, but a wave of pain hit me. Sleep had dulled the hurting temporarily, and now it returned full-force. I fought the urge to bury my face in the pillow.
Anne began to unload the food, keeping up a steady flow of chatter. When she paused for a breath, Lela glanced at me.
“I’m going to run down and just close up. If you two get us set up here, we can eat when I come back, okay?”
Anne waved her off. “Sure, go right ahead. Tas and I will pull out the plates and everything. Just hurry or there might not be anything left. I’m hungry!”
I watched Anne dart around, laying out vast quantities of food. She was chatting about her job at her mother’s hair salon—mindless little vignettes about amusing clients—when she suddenly stopped short and turned to me.
“Tasmyn? Are you listening at all?”
I blinked at her. “Yes, of course I was.”
“You look as though you’re a million miles away.” Anne plopped onto the sofa next to me, drawing up her feet beneath her.
“I’m just… just listening.” Anne frowned at me, and I hurried to change the subject.
“Did Lela ask you to come over?”
Anne had never been very good at fibbing, and I would have spotted the look on her face even if I hadn’t heard the stuttering in her mind.
“I wasn’t going to let you two have all the fun out here, a girls’ night without me! I invited myself.”
I pressed my lips together. “She shouldn’t have done that. I’m fine. I hate to take you away from Jim.”
Anne flicked her hand. “He was in complete agreement with me coming over. Besides, it’s not like I can’t see him any time.” Anne snapped her mouth together, as if realizing what she had just said.
I closed my eyes and tried not to see the car driving away again. “It’s okay, Anne. I just have to deal with it.” Weariness washed across me again.
“Well, tonight we’re going to have fun and not think about anything serious,” Anne promised. “Strictly girl stuff. Junk food, music, gossip, whatever.”
That was indeed the order of the evening. Lela returned from the nursery bright and cheerful on the outside, still trying to hide her concern for me.
“Where’s the food? I’m starving!” she announced, dropping her bag on a chair near the door.
“Right here. We’re all set. Tas, come on, grab a drink and sit down.”
I pulled myself from the couch, filled a cup with water and joined Lela and Anne. They were spooning Chinese food from various containers onto their plates.
“All your favorites, Tas,” Anne pointed out. “Broccoli and chicken, lo mein, won tons…”
I tried to muster up some enthusiasm from the numbness within me. “Thanks. It looks great.” I put a little of each on my plate and poked at it with a chopstick.
“How was everything down at the shop?” Anne asked Lela.
“Fine. Everyone who works for my parents is wonderful, and they had taken care of it all. I just had to shut down and lock up.”
They launched into a conversation then about family owned businesses, which I attempted to follow for a few moments before my mind wandered again. The house felt so empty without Michael and his parents. I wondered how their trip north had gone and whether they had arrived safely at the college.
Suddenly I realized that talk at the table had stopped, and both Anne and Lela were looking at me.
We’ve got to do a better job of keeping her distracted. She just needs to get over this initial bump, then she’ll be okay… I hope… Lela’s expression matched her thoughts.
“Tas, you’re not eating,” Anne chided. “You’re just moving the food around your plate.”
“I’m not that hungry,” I mumbled, looking down, concentrating on blocking her anxious thoughts.
“I got soup, too, just in case. Why don’t you try some of that?”
I managed to get some of the soup down, which seemed to satisfy them temporarily. After I’d had a few spoonfuls, I turned to Lela.
“I wonder why we haven’t heard from Michael and your parents?” I tried to keep my tone even.
Lela smiled. “They called this afternoon, while you were asleep.”
Panic and outrage at the idea that I’d missed Michael’s call—that Lela had allowed me to sleep through it—coursed through me and must have shown on my face.
“I tried to wake you up, but you were out cold. And then Michael said if you were sleeping that hard, you probably needed it. They have some kind of social tonight at the college, and he said if it ended early enough, he’d call. If not, he’ll talk to you in the morning.”
I nodded, unable to speak for the lump in my throat.
Anne leaned over and laid her hand on my arm.
“Tasmyn, you can’t do this. You can’t shut yourself down and stop—well, stop being just because Michael’s gone away to school. I know it’s the first day, and we’re trying to give you some space to get used to it. But you can’t wallow in it. You’ve got to make up your mind to be all right.”
If only it were that easy, I thought. But I forced another smile and ate more of my soup.
Michael didn’t call that night. I slept upstairs in his bedroom, the first time I’d ever spent the night in the spacious loft that was his. I kept my cell phone—a recent gift from my parents in anticipation of my eighteenth birthday—held tightly in my hand, confident that the vibration would wake me up if I dozed.
When I opened my eyes, light was flooding the room through the skylights, and my telephone clock read 7:22 AM. There were no missed calls. I was disappointed that he hadn’t called, but at the same time, I understood that he was probably kept busy by all the transition programs the college had in place for incoming freshmen. I couldn’t expect him to be checking on me every little while.
But part of me wished he would.
I was determined that today would be different. No more coddling from Lela and Anne. I had my job to do down at the nursery, and I wouldn’t let Marly and Luke down by cowering in their house again today, no matter how numb and empty I still felt. I dressed and slipped downstairs, looking for Lela. A note on the kitchen table informed me that she was already down at the shop and that Anne had left early for a shift at the salon.
I felt a twinge of guilt. I knew that my lack of enthusiasm last night had put a damper on the slumber party they had planned to cheer me up, but I simply hadn’t been able to join in the fun with any real gusto. Anne and Lela had been watching a sappy movie when I pleaded fatigue and slipped upstairs to wait for Michael’s call. As they were both up and out early, I guessed that they hadn’t stayed up too much later than I had.
The air outside the cabin was heavy and damp. The sun filtered through the towering pines as I crunched down the path into the open lot that was the center of the nursery. When I opened the back door to the shop, Lela looked up from papers she was scanning.
King 02 - Breathless Page 2
