Hopeless

by Hoover, Colleen

  “I need to kiss you,” he says again, this time a desperate plea. “Please, Sky. I’m scared that after I tell you what I’m about to tell you…I’ll never get to kiss you again.” He pulls himself closer to me and strokes my cheek with his thumb, never taking his eyes off mine. “Please.”

  I nod slightly, unsure why my weakness is getting the best of me. He lowers his mouth to mine and kisses me. I close my eyes and allow him in, because a huge part of me is just as scared that this is the last time I’ll feel his mouth against mine. I’m scared it’s the last time I’ll ever feel anything, because he’s the only one I’ve ever wanted to feel anything with.

  He adjusts himself until he’s on his knees, holding onto my face with one hand and bracing his other hand on the concrete beside my head. I lift my hand and run it through his hair, pulling him to my mouth more urgently. Tasting him and feeling his breath as it mixes with mine momentarily takes everything about tonight and locks it away. In this moment, I’m focused on him and my heart and how it’s swelling and breaking all at the same time. The thought that what I feel for him isn’t even warranted or true is making me hurt. I hurt everywhere. In my head, in my gut, in my chest, in my heart, in my soul. Before, I felt like his kiss could cure me. Now his kiss feels like it’s creating a terminal heartache deep within me.

  He can sense my defeat taking over as the sobs start coming from my throat. He moves his lips to my cheek, then my ear. “I’m so sorry,” he says, holding onto me. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want you to know.”

  I close my eyes and push him away from me, then sit up and take a deep breath. I wipe the tears away with the back of my hand and I pull my legs up, hugging them tightly. I bury my face in my knees so I don’t have to look at him again.

  “I just want you to talk, Holder. I asked you everything I could ever ask you on the way here. I need you to answer me now so I can just go home.” My voice is defeated and done.

  His hand moves to the back of my head and he drags his fingers through my hair, over and over again while he works up a response. He clears his throat. “I wasn’t sure if you were Hope the first time I saw you. I was so used to seeing her in every single stranger our age, I had given up trying to find her a few years ago. But when I saw you at the store and looked into your eyes…I had a feeling you really were her. When you showed me your ID and I realized you weren’t, I felt ridiculous. It was like the wake-up call I needed to finally just let the memory of her go.”

  He stops talking and runs his hand slowly down my hair, resting it on my back, but tracing light circles with his finger. I want to push his hand away, but I want it right where it is even more.

  “We lived next door to you and your dad for a year. You and me and Les…we were all best friends. It’s so hard to remember faces from that long ago, though. I thought you were Hope, but I also thought that if you really were her, I wouldn’t be doubting it. I thought if I ever saw her again, I’d know for sure.

  “When I left the grocery store that day, I immediately looked up the name you gave me online. I couldn’t find anything about you, not even on Facebook. I searched for an hour straight and became so frustrated that I went for a run to cool down. When I rounded the corner and saw you standing in front of my house, I couldn’t breathe. You were just standing there, worn out and exhausted from running and…Jesus, Sky. You were so beautiful. I still wasn’t sure if you were Hope or not, but at that point it wasn’t even going through my mind. I didn’t care who you were; I just needed to know you.

  “After spending time with you that week, I couldn’t stop myself from going to your house that Friday night. I didn’t show up with the intention of digging up your past or even in the hopes that something would happen between us. I went to your house because I wanted you to know the real me, not the me you had heard about from everyone else. After spending more time with you that night, I couldn’t think of anything else besides figuring out how I could spend more time with you. I had never met anyone who got me the way you did. I still wondered if it was possible…if you were her. I was especially curious after you told me you were adopted, but again, I thought maybe it was a coincidence.

  “But then when I saw the bracelet…” He stops talking and takes his hand off of my back. His fingers slide under my chin and he pulls my face away from my knees and makes me look him in the eyes. “My heart broke, Sky. I didn’t want you to be her. I wanted you to tell me you got the bracelet from your friend or that you found it or you bought it. After all the years I spent searching for you in every single face I ever looked at, I finally found you…and I was devastated. I didn’t want you to be Hope. I just wanted you to be you.”

  I shake my head, still just as confused as before. “But why didn’t you just tell me? How hard would it have been to admit that we used to know each other? I don’t understand why you’ve been lying about it.”

  He eyes me for a moment while he searches for a good enough response, then brushes hair away from my face. “What do you remember about your adoption?”

  I shake my head. “Not a lot. I know I was in foster care after my father gave me up. I know Karen adopted me and we moved here from out of state when I was five. Other than that and a few odd memories, I don’t know anything.”

  He squares his body up with mine and places both of his hands on my shoulders firmly, like he’s getting frustrated. “That’s all stuff Karen told you. I want to know what you remember. What do you remember, Sky?”

  This time I shake my head slowly. “Nothing. The earliest memories I have are with Karen. The only thing I remember from before Karen was getting the bracelet, but that’s only because I still have it and the memory stuck with me. I wasn’t even sure who gave it to me.”

  Holder takes my face in his hands and lowers his lips to my forehead. He keeps his lips there, holding me against his mouth like he’s afraid to pull away because he doesn’t want to have to talk. He doesn’t want to have to tell me whatever it is he knows.

  “Just say it,” I whisper. “Tell me what you’re wishing you didn’t have to tell me.”

  He pulls his mouth away and presses his forehead against mine. His eyes are closed and he’s got a firm grip on my face. He looks so sad and it makes me want to hold him despite my frustration with him. I reach my arms around him and I hug him. He hugs me back and pulls me onto his lap in the process. I wrap my legs around his waist and our foreheads are still meshed together. He’s holding onto me, but this time it feels like he’s holding onto me because his earth has been shifted off its axis, and I’m his core.

  “Just tell me, Holder.”

  He runs his hand down to my lower back and he opens his eyes, pulling his forehead away from mine so he can look at me when he speaks.

  “The day Les gave you that bracelet, you were crying. I remember every single detail like it happened yesterday. You were sitting in your yard against your house. Les and I sat with you for a long time, but you never stopped crying. After she gave you your bracelet she walked back to our house but I couldn’t. I felt bad leaving you there, because I thought you might be mad at your dad again. You were always crying because of him and it made me hate him. I don’t remember anything about the guy, other than I hated his guts for making you feel like you did. I was only six years old, so I never knew what to say to you when you cried. I think that day I said something like, ‘Don’t worry…’”

  “He won’t live forever,” I say, finishing his sentence. “I remember that day. Les giving me the bracelet and you saying he won’t live forever. Those are the two things I’ve remembered all this time. I just didn’t know it was you.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I said to you.” He brings his hands to my cheeks and continues. “And then I did something I’ve regretted every single day of my life since.”

  I shake my head. “Holder, you didn’t do anything. You just walked away.”

  “Exactly,” he says. “I walked to my front yard even though I knew I should have sat back down in
the grass beside you. I stood in my front yard and I watched you cry into your arms, when you should have been crying into mine. I just stood there…and I watched the car pull up to the curb. I watched the passenger window roll down and I heard someone call your name. I watched you look up at the car and wipe your eyes. You stood up and you dusted off your shorts, then you walked to the car. I watched you climb inside and I knew whatever was happening I shouldn’t have just been standing there. But all I did was watch, when I should have been with you. It never would have happened if I would have stayed right there with you.”

  The fear and regret in his voice is causing my heart to race against my chest. I somehow find strength to speak, despite the fear consuming me. “What never would have happened?”

  He kisses me on the forehead again and his thumbs brush delicately over my cheekbones. He looks at me like he’s scared he’s about to break my heart.

  “They took you. Whoever was in that car, they took you from your dad, from me, from Les. You’ve been missing for thirteen years, Hope.”

  One of the things I love about books is being able to define and condense certain portions of a characters life into chapters. It’s intriguing, because you can’t do this with real life. You can’t just end a chapter, then skip the things you don’t want to live through, only to open it up to a chapter that better suits your mood. Life can’t be divided into chapters...only minutes. The events of your life are all crammed together one minute right after the other without any time lapses or blank pages or chapter breaks because no matter what happens life just keeps going and moving forward and words keep flowing and truths keep spewing whether you like it or not and life never lets you pause and just catch your fucking breath.

  I need one of those chapter breaks. I just want to catch my breath, but I have no idea how.

  “Say something,” he says. I’m still sitting in his lap, wrapped around him. My head is pressed against his shoulder and my eyes are shut. He places his hand on the back of my head and lowers his mouth to my ear, holding me tighter. “Please. Say something.”

  I don’t know what he wants me to say. Does he want me to act surprised? Shocked? Does he want me to cry? Does he want me to scream? I can’t do any of those things because I’m still trying to wrap my mind around what he’s saying.

  “You’ve been missing for thirteen years, Hope.”

  His words repeat over and over in my mind like a broken record.

  “Missing.”

  I’m hoping he means missing in a figurative sense, like maybe he’s just missed me all these years. I doubt that’s the case, though. I could see the look in his eyes when he said those words, and he didn’t want to say them at all. He knew what it would do to me.

  Maybe he really does mean missing in the literal sense, but he’s just confused. We were both so young; he probably doesn’t remember the sequence of events correctly. But the last two months flash before my eyes, and everything about him…all of his personalities and mood swings and cryptic words come into clear focus. Like the night he was standing in my doorway and said he’d been looking for me his whole damn life. He was being literal about that.

  Or our first night sitting right here on this runway when he asked if I’d had a good life. He’s worried for thirteen years about what happened to me. He was being very literal then, wanting to know if I was happy with where I ended up.

  Or the day he refused to apologize for the way he acted in the cafeteria, explaining that he knew why it upset him but he just couldn’t tell me yet. I didn’t question it then, because he seemed sincere that he wanted to explain himself one day. Never in a million years could I have guessed why it upset him so much to see that bracelet on me. He didn’t want me to be Hope because he knew the truth would break my heart.

  He was right.

  “You’ve been missing for thirteen years, Hope.”

  The last word of his sentence sends a shiver down my spine. I slowly lift my face away from his shoulder and look at him. “You called me Hope. Don’t call me that. It’s not my name.”

  He nods. “I’m sorry, Sky.”

  The last word of that sentence sends a shiver down my spine as well. I slide off of him and stand up. “Don’t call me that, either,” I say resolutely. I don’t want to be called Hope or Sky or Princess or anything else that separates me from any other part of myself. I’m suddenly feeling like I’m completely different people, wrapped up into one. Someone who doesn’t know who she is or where she belongs and it’s disturbing. I’ve never felt so isolated in my life; like there isn’t a single person in this entire world I can trust. Not even myself. I can’t even trust my own memories.

  Holder stands up and takes my hands, looking down at me. He’s watching me, waiting for me to react. He’ll be disappointed because I’m not going to react. Not right here. Not right now. Part of me wants to cry while he wraps his arms around me and whispers, “Don’t worry,” into my ear. Part of me wants to scream and yell and hit him for deceiving me. Part of me wants to allow him to continue to blame himself for not stopping what he says happened thirteen years ago. Most of me just wants it all to go away, though. I want to go back to feeling nothing again. I miss the numbness.

  I pull my hands from his and begin to walk toward the car. “I need a chapter break,” I say, more to myself than to him.

  He follows a step behind me. “I don’t even know what that means.” His voice sounds defeated and overwhelmed. He grabs my arm to stop me, more than likely to ask how I’m feeling, but I jerk it away and spin around to face him again. I don’t want him to ask me how I’m feeling, because I have no idea. I’m running through an entire gamut of feelings right now, some I’ve never even experienced before. Rage and fear and sadness and disbelief are building up inside of me and I want it to stop. I just want to stop feeling everything that I’m feeling, so I reach up and grab his face and press my lips to his. I kiss him hard and fast, wanting him to react, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t kiss me back. He refuses to help make the pain go away like this, so my anger takes over and I separate my lips from his, then slap him.

  He barely flinches and it infuriates me. I want him to hurt like I’m hurting. I want him to feel what his words just did to me. I slap him again and he allows it. When he still doesn’t react, I push against his chest. I push him and shove him over and over—trying to give him back every ounce of pain he’s just immersed into my soul. I ball my fists up and hit him in the chest and when that doesn’t work, I start screaming and hitting him and trying to get out of his arms because they’re wrapped around me now. He spins me around so that my back is against his chest and our arms are locked together, folded tightly across my stomach.

  “Breathe,” he whispers into my ear. “Calm down, Sky. I know you’re confused and scared, but I’m here. I’m right here. Just breathe.”

  His voice is calm and comforting and I close my eyes and soak it in. He simulates a deep breath, moving his chest in rhythm with mine, forcing me to take a breath and follow his lead. I take several slow, deep breaths in time with his. When I’ve stopped struggling in his arms, he slowly turns me around and pulls me into his chest.

  “I didn’t want you to hurt like this,” he whispers, cradling my head in his hands. “That’s why I haven’t told you.”

  I realize in this moment that I’m not even crying. I haven’t cried at all since the truth passed his lips and I make it a point to refuse the tears that are demanding to be set free. Tears won’t help me right now. They’ll just make me weaker.

  I place my palms on his chest and lightly push against him. I feel like I’m vulnerable to more tears when he holds me because he feels so comforting. I don’t need anyone’s comfort. I need to learn how to rely on myself to stay strong because I’m the only one I can trust—and I’m even skeptical about my own trustworthiness. Everything I thought I knew has been a lie. I don’t know who’s in on it or who knows the truth and I find myself without an ounce of trust left in my heart. Not for Holder, n
ot for Karen…not even for myself, really.

  I back a step away from him and look him in the eyes. “Were you ever going to tell me who I was?” I ask, glaring at him. “What if I never remembered? Would you have ever told me? Were you scared I would leave you and you’d never get your chance to screw me? Is that why you’ve been lying to me this whole time?”

  His eyes awash with offense the moment the words flow from my lips. “No, babe. That’s not how it was. That’s not how it is. I haven’t told you because I’m scared of what will happen to you. If I report it, they’ll take you from Karen. They’ll more than likely arrest her and send you back to live with your father until you turn eighteen. Do you want that to happen? You love Karen and you’re happy here. I didn’t want to mess that up for you.”

  I release a quick laugh and shake my head. His reasoning makes no sense. None of this makes any sense. “First of all,” I say. “They wouldn’t put Karen in jail because I can guarantee you she knows nothing about this. Second, I’ve been eighteen since September. If my age was the reason you weren’t being honest, you would have told me by now.”

  He squeezes the back of his neck and looks down at the ground. I don’t like the nervousness seeping from him right now. I can tell by the way he’s reacting that he isn’t finished with the confessions.

  “Sky, there’s so much I still need to explain to you.” He brings his eyes back up to meet mine. “Your birthday wasn’t in September. Your birthday is May 7th. You don’t even turn eighteen for six more months. And Karen?” He takes a step toward me, grabbing both of my hands. “She has to know, Sky. She has to. Think about it. Who else could have done this?”