Breckin sighs, rolls his eyes, then steps aside to let us in. We make our way inside and Breckin closes the door behind us, then stops in front of Daniel. “You call me powder puff again and my new second-best friend ever in the whole wide world will kick your ass.”
Daniel grins, then cuts his eyes to mine. We have one of our silent conversations where he tells me this kid isn’t half bad. I smile, completely agreeing with him.
* * *
“Let me get this straight,” Breckin says, trying to clarify the confession Daniel just made. “You don’t even know what the girl looked like?”
Daniel smiles boastfully. “No clue.”
“What was her name?” I ask.
He shrugs. “No clue.”
Breckin sets down his game controller and turns to face Daniel. “How the hell did you end up in the maintenance closet with her?”
Daniel’s face is still awash with a smug grin. He seems so proud of it, I’m shocked this is the first time he’s mentioned it to me.
“Funny story, really,” he says. “Last year I was never assigned a fifth-period class. It was a mistake on administration’s part, but I didn’t want them to know. Every day during fifth period while everyone else went to their scheduled classes, I would hide out in the janitor’s closet and nap. They never cleaned that section of the hallway until after school, so no one ever went in there.
“I guess it was about six or seven months ago, right before the end of the school year, I was having one of my fifth-period naps and all of a sudden someone opens the door, slips inside, and trips over me. I couldn’t see who she was because I always kept the lights out, but she landed right on top of me. We were in this really compromising position and she smelled really good and she didn’t weigh very much, so I didn’t mind her landing on me. I wrapped my arms around her and made no attempt to roll her off me because she felt so damn good. She was crying, though,” he says, losing some of the excitement in his eyes. He leans back in his chair and continues. “I asked her what was wrong and all she said was, ‘I hate them.’ I asked her who she hated and she said, ‘Everybody. I hate everybody.’ The way she said it was just heartbreaking and I felt bad for her and her breath smelled so fucking good and I knew exactly what she meant because I hate everyone, too. So I kept my arms wrapped around her and I said, ‘I hate everybody, too, Cinderella.’ We were still in . . .”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Breckin says, interrupting the story. “You called her Cinderella? What the hell for?”
Daniel shrugs. “We were in a janitor’s closet. I didn’t know her name and there were all these mops and brooms and shit and it reminded me of Cinderella, okay? Give me a break.”
“But why would you even call her anything?” Breckin asks, not understanding Daniel’s penchant for random nicknames.
Daniel rolls his eyes. “I didn’t know her fucking name, Einstein! Now stop interrupting me, I’m just now getting to the good part.” He leans forward again. “So I said to her, ‘I hate everybody, too, Cinderella.’ We were still in the same position and it was dark and to be honest, it was really kinda hot. You know, not knowing who she was or what she looked like. Sort of mysterious. Then she just laughs and leans forward and kisses me. Of course I kissed her back because I’d already finished my nap and we still had about fifteen minutes to kill. We kissed for the rest of the period. That’s all we did. We never spoke another word and we never did more than just kiss. When the bell rang, she hopped up and walked out. I didn’t even see what she looked like.”
He’s staring at the floor, smiling. I’ve honestly never seen him talk about a girl like this before. Not even Val.
“But I thought you said she was the best sex you ever had?” Breckin says, bringing us back to the point that started this whole conversation.
Daniel grins boastfully again. “She was. Turns out I wasn’t hard to find after that. She showed up again a week later. The closet light was out like always and she walked in and shut the door behind her. She was crying again. She said, ‘Are you in here, kid?’ The way she called me kid made me think she might have been a teacher and I’d be lying if I said that didn’t turn me on. Then one thing led to another and let’s just say I became her Prince Charming for the rest of the hour. And that was the best sex I ever had.”
Breckin and I both laugh.
“So who was she?” I ask.
Daniel shrugs. “I never found out. She never showed up again after that and school ended a few weeks later. Then I met Val and my life spiraled out of control.” He exhales a deep rush of air, then turns to face Breckin. “Is it racist of me to not really want to hear about your gay sex?”
Breckin laughs and throws his game controller at Daniel. “Racist isn’t the correct term, dipshit. Homophobic and discriminatory, yes. And understandable. I wouldn’t tell you, anyway.”
Daniel looks at me. “I don’t even have to guess who you’ll say was your best,” he says. “The way Sky has you broken right now, I think it’s pretty obvious.”
I shake my head. “Well, you’re wrong, because not only did I never have sex with her, but we never even kissed.”
Daniel laughs but Breckin doesn’t and neither do I, which quickly shuts Daniel up. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”
I shake my head.
Daniel stands up and tosses his controller onto the bed. “How the hell have you not kissed her?” he says, raising his voice. “Because the way you’ve been acting this month had me thinking she was the fucking love of your life.”
I cock my head. “Why do you seem pissed off by this?”
He rolls his head. “Seriously?” He stalks toward me and bends forward, placing his hands on either side of my chair. “Because you’re being a pussy. P-U-S-S-Y.” He lets go of my chair and backs up. “Jesus, Holder. I was actually feeling sorry for you. Suck it up, man. Go to her house and fucking kiss her already and allow yourself to be happy for once.”
He drops down onto the bed and grabs his controller. Breckin smiles a tight-lipped smile and shrugs. “I don’t really like your friend, but he does make a good point. I still don’t understand why you got so mad at her and walked away, but the only way to make it up to her is to not stay away.” He turns back toward the TV and I’m staring at both of them, completely speechless.
They make it sound so simple. They make it sound so easy, like her whole life isn’t hanging in the balance. They don’t know what the fuck they’re talking about.
“Take me home,” I say to Daniel. I don’t want to be here anymore. I walk out of Breckin’s bedroom and make my way back to Daniel’s car.
Chapter Thirty-two
Les,
Everyone likes to have an opinion, don’t they? Daniel and Breckin have no clue what I’ve been through. What either of us has been through.
Fuck it. I don’t even feel like telling you about it.
H
I close the notebook and stare at it. Why the hell do I even write in it? Why the hell do I bother when she’s fucking dead? I throw the notebook across the room and it hits the wall and falls to the floor. I throw the pen at the notebook and then grab my pillow from behind my head and throw it, too.
“Dammit,” I groan, frustrated. I’m pissed that Daniel thinks my life is so simple. I’m pissed that Breckin still thinks I should just apologize to her, like that would make it all okay. I’m pissed that I’m still writing to Les even though she’s dead.. She can’t read it. She’ll never read it. I’m just putting all the shit I’m living through down on paper for no reason other than the fact that there isn’t a single goddamned person in the world right now that I can talk to.
I lie down, then get pissed again and punch my bed because my damn pillow is all the way across the room. I stand up and walk to the pillow, snatching it up. I look down at the notebook beneath it, spread open on the floor.
The pillow falls out of my hand.
My knees fall to the floor.
My hands clench the notebook that has fli
pped open to the very last page.
I frantically flip through the pages covered in Les’s handwriting until I find where the words begin. As soon as I see the first words written on top of the page, my heart comes to a screeching halt.
Dear Holder,
If you’re reading this, I’m so, so sor
I slam the notebook shut and throw it across the room.
She wrote me a letter?
A fucking suicide letter?
I can’t breathe. Oh, God, I can’t breathe. I pull myself up and jerk open my window, then stick my head out. I take a deep breath and it’s not enough air. There isn’t enough air and I can’t breathe. I shut the window and run to my bedroom door. I swing it open and rush down the stairs, taking them several at a time. I pass by my mother and her eyes grow wide, seeing me in such a hurry.
“Holder, it’s midnight! Where are—”
“Running!” I yell, then slam the front door behind me.
And that’s what I do. I run. I run straight to Sky’s house because she’s the only thing in the world that can help me breathe again.
Chapter Thirty-three
These past few weeks of doing everything in my power to avoid her have taken every ounce of my strength and I can’t do it anymore. I thought by staying away from her I was being strong, but not being near her is making me weaker than I’ve ever been. I know I shouldn’t be here and I know she doesn’t want me here but I have to see her. I have to hear her, I have to touch her, I have to feel her against me because that weekend I spent with her was the only time since I walked away from her thirteen years ago that I actually looked forward.
I’ve never looked forward before. I’ve always looked back. I think about the past way too much and I think about what I should have done and everything I did wrong and I’ve never once looked forward in my life. Being with her had me thinking about tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that and next year and forever. I need that right now because if I don’t get to hold her one more time . . . I’m scared I’ll look back again and the past will completely swallow me up.
I grab the windowsill and close my eyes. I inhale several times in an attempt to calm my pulse and the trembling going on with my hands right now.
I hate that she always leaves her window unlocked. I push it up and slide the curtains back, then climb inside. I contemplate saying something so she’ll know I’m in her room, but I also don’t want to scare her if she’s asleep.
I turn and close the window and walk to her bed, then slowly ease myself down. She’s facing the other way, so I lift the covers and scoot in beside her. Her posture immediately stiffens and she pulls her hands up to her face. I know she’s awake and I know she knows it’s me climbing into her bed, but the fact that it terrifies her completely breaks me.
She’s scared of me. I didn’t expect fear to be a reaction from her at all. Anger, yes. I’d so much rather her be angry at me right now than scared.
She’s not telling me to leave yet and I don’t think I could even if she asked me to. I have to feel her in my arms, so I move closer to her and slide my arm under her pillow. I wrap my other arm around her and slide my fingers into hers, then bury my face into her neck. Her scent and her skin and the feel of her heartbeat against our hands is exactly what I need, more tonight than ever before I just need to know that I’m not alone, even if she doesn’t have a clue how much allowing me to hold her is helping.
I kiss her softly on the side of her head and pull her closer. I don’t deserve to be back in her bed or in her life after all I’ve put her through. In this moment, she’s allowing me to be here. I’m not going to think about what might happen in the next few minutes. I’m not going to think about what happened in the past. I’m not looking forward or backward. I’m just holding her and thinking about this. Right now. Her.
She hasn’t spoken in almost half an hour, but neither have I. I’m not apologizing to her, because I don’t deserve her forgiveness and that’s not why I’m here. I can’t tell her what happened that day at lunch because I don’t want her to know yet. I have no idea what to say, so I just hold her. I kiss her hair and I silently thank her for helping me breathe again.
I fold my arm up and hold her tighter. I’m trying not to fall apart right now. I’m trying so hard. She inhales a breath, then speaks to me for the first time in almost a month. “I’m so mad at you,” she whispers.
I squeeze my eyes shut and press my lips desperately against her skin. “I know, Sky.” I slip my hand around her to pull her closer. “I know.”
Her fingers slide through mine and she squeezes my hand. All she did was squeeze my hand, but that one small gesture does more for me in this moment than I could ever give her in return. Knowing she’s reassuring me, even in the slightest way, is more than I deserve from her.
I press my lips to her shoulder and kiss her softly. “I know,” I whisper again as I continue kissing up her neck. She’s responding to my touch and to my kiss and I want to stay here forever. I wish I could freeze time. I want to freeze the past and the future and just focus on being here in this moment with her forever.
She reaches up and runs her hand to the back of my head, pulling me against her neck even harder. She wants me here. She needs me here just as much as I need to be here and just knowing that is enough to freeze time for just a little while.
I raise up in the bed next to her and gently pull on her shoulder until she’s flat on her back, looking up at me. I brush the hair away from her eyes and look down at her. I’ve missed her so much and I’m so scared she’ll come to her senses and ask me to leave. God, I’ve missed her. How did I ever think walking away from her would be good for either of us?
“I know you’re mad at me,” I say, running my hand down to her neck. “I need you to be mad at me, Sky. But I think I need you to still want me here with you even more.”
She continues to keep her eyes locked with mine and she nods her head slightly. I drop my forehead to hers and take her face in my hands, and she does the same to me.
“I am mad at you, Holder,” she says. “But no matter how mad I’ve been, I never for one second stopped wanting you here with me.”
Those words knock the breath out of me at the same time they completely fill my lungs back up with her air. She wants me here and it’s the best fucking feeling in the world. “Jesus, Sky. I’ve missed you so bad.” I feel like she’s my lifeline and if I don’t kiss her immediately, I’ll die.
I dip my head and press my mouth to hers. We both inhale a deep breath the second our lips meet. She wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me to her, welcoming me back into her life. Our mouths are pressed desperately together but our lips are completely still and we’re both attempting to inhale another breath. I pull back slightly because the feel of her beneath me and having her mouth willingly pressed to mine is completely overwhelming me. In all my eighteen years, nothing has ever felt more perfect. As soon as my lips separate from hers, she looks up into my eyes and wraps her hands around my neck. She lifts up from the bed slightly, bringing her mouth back to mine. This time she kisses me, softly parting my lips with hers. When our tongues meet, she moans and I push her back against the mattress, kissing her this time.
For the next few minutes, we’re completely lost in what feels like sheer perfection. Time has completely stopped, and all I’m thinking about while we kiss is how this is what saves people. Moments like these with people like her are what make all the suffering worth it. It’s moments like these that keep people looking forward and I can’t believe I’ve let them slip by for an entire month.
I know I told her that she’s never really been kissed before, but until this moment I had no idea that I had never really been kissed before. Not like this. Every kiss, every movement, every moan, every touch of her hand against my skin. She’s my saving grace. My Hope.
And I’m never walking away from her again.
* * *
I hear the door to her bedroom close, so I
know she’s about to walk in on me cooking breakfast for her. I still haven’t explained what the hell I’ve done to her over the past month and I’m not sure that I can, but I’ll do whatever it takes to get her to accept it without letting her forgive me. No matter what happened between us last night, I still don’t deserve her forgiveness and honestly, she’s not the type of girl who would put up with the shit I’ve put her through. If she forgave me, I feel like she would be compromising her strength. I don’t want her compromising anything about herself for my sake.
I know she’s standing behind me. Before everything I’ve done catches back up with her again, I try to explain away the fact that I’ve made myself at home in her kitchen again.
“I left early this morning,” I say with my back still turned to her, “because I was afraid your mom would walk in and think I was trying to get you pregnant. Then when I went for my run, I passed by your house again and realized her car wasn’t even home and remembered you said she does those trade days every month. So I decided to pick up some groceries because I wanted to cook you breakfast. I also almost bought groceries for lunch and dinner, but maybe we should take it one meal at a time today.”
I turn around to face her and I don’t know if it’s because I’ve spent the last few weeks having to be so far away from her or what, but she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. I look her up and down, recognizing that this is the first time I’ve ever fallen in love with a piece of clothing before. What the hell is she trying to do to me?
“Happy birthday,” I say casually, trying not to show her just how flustered I am looking at her in that outfit. “I really like that dress. I bought real milk, you want some?” I take a glass and pour her some milk, then slide it to her. She eyes the milk warily but I don’t give her time to drink it. Seeing those lips and that mouth and . . . shit.
“I need to kiss you,” I say, walking swiftly to her. I take her face in my hands. “Your mouth was so damn perfect last night, I’m scared I dreamt that whole thing.” I expect her to resist, but she doesn’t. Instead, I’m met with eager perfection when she grabs me by the shirt with both hands and kisses me back. Knowing that she still wants me after all I’ve put her through makes me appreciate her even more. And knowing I still have a chance with her?
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