[The Forever 01.0] Forever Innocent

by Deanna Roy

  I opened my eyes and saw Finn, curled up like he’d been in the sonograms, and how I’d imagined him to look while he was still tucked safely in my belly. He floated, the curling line of his umbilical cord snaking between us. I reached for him, hoping maybe he’d open his eyes this time, and breathe without a machine. But we were underwater, and he couldn’t breathe. His lungs wouldn’t work here any more than they had when he was in his little plastic bed, the ventilator taped to his mouth, forcing air in and out in a loud mechanical whine.

  He shifted, rotating, almost as though he were coming closer, then opened his mouth and blew out a long exhale of gray smoke.

  I gulped water and everything went quiet, so black, and I couldn’t see anything at all.

  Chapter 17: Gavin

  I flung my helmet on the sofa, glad to be home from Tijuana. The phone buzzed and my heart raced, thinking maybe Corabelle’s friend had given her my number, but it was just Mario, asking if I wanted to shoot pool.

  Saying yes would be wise, get out of my head, stop thinking about Corabelle. But instead of heeding my own advice, I put Mario off and pulled out my ancient laptop, wondering if a web search might help me locate her.

  Corabelle Rotheford had plenty of hits, mostly hometown articles. National Merit Scholar lists. A piece on where students were going to college. I saw my name with hers, saying we were going to UCSD, before we realized we couldn’t. The article had been right in the end, because now we both were.

  I scrolled through, looking for anything more recent. Corabelle had worked in the admissions office at New Mexico, it seemed. She was quoted in some article about student employees by the school paper. Seems strange she would leave a university where she had such a great job and contacts. I remembered the fear that crossed her face on the first day we talked in the stairwell. If someone there had tried to hurt her, I would hunt them down. Anger flared through me. I had to get to her. Had to find out about the years we lost. We could fix this, I knew it. We were meant to be together.

  Only one more link was about her, before the searches were for different people.

  I didn’t want to click on that last one, but I did.

  Finn Grayson Mays, infant son of Gavin Mays and Corabelle Rotheford, died on May 9, 2009.

  My eyes burned. They hadn’t run a picture. Corabelle didn’t want one, since they all had tubes and wires on him, except for the last few, after they turned off the machines.

  Finn was born May 2, 2009, in Deming, New Mexico. He is survived by his parents and his grandparents Arthur and Maybelle Rotheford and Robert and Alaina Mays of Deming.

  When I saw my father’s name, I closed the link. He’d been at the funeral all right, jovial, relieved, and when he told some member of Corabelle’s church that at least the kids didn’t have to get married now, I asked him to leave.

  He refused, and I should have left it alone. My mother was grieving, and the two of us going at each other was making it worse for both her and Corabelle. But I hadn’t left it alone. Then I ended up walking out.

  Then not going back.

  I shut the laptop. I didn’t want to think about these things. I wanted Corabelle. No one else was going to work, but she was being so darn stubborn, walking off with that other guy right where I could see it.

  Rage surged and I fought to bring it down before realizing, hell, no one else is here. What did it matter if I walked around in a pisser? The room was scattered with secondhand barbells and hand weights. I stripped off my shirt and began working through my circuit. Getting physically exhausted would burn off this edge.

  After a couple rounds, I wanted music, something loud and pounding. I stuck my phone into a pair of cheap speakers and set the playlist to punk. I switched to squats and ditched the boots and jeans. When the burn got good and solid, the anger started shifting to determination. I wasn’t going to let Corabelle go so easily. If that pipsqueak boy interested her, fine, but I could be unrelenting. And I knew every button to push.

  Corabelle and I had been pretty heavy on the sex, and I snuck in her window most every night. Because of that, we could never agree on when Finn had been conceived. To make matters worse, her being on the shot and not finding out for a while meant everything was a big question. When she was about three months along, the doctors pegged the date as mid October. I remembered that period, right in the middle of this crazy time when she was trying to retake the SAT to qualify for one of the big national scholarships.

  She was studying with Katie, another super-brain who was going for a perfect score. Corabelle was completely different for a while, alternatively manic and utterly chill. When I slipped into her bed, she’d be so willing. Not like she wasn’t always. Once all that started, we could scarcely keep our hands off each other. But during that time, she would try anything, do anything. We cracked open the Kama Sutra and just went after it, laughing at some of the more impossible positions. I felt like we’d never been closer.

  I always insisted that Finn was conceived the night in the park. When I arrived at her house around midnight, she was bouncing off the walls. She’d taken an entire practice test and only missed three questions, and this was the closest she’d gotten to perfection.

  Instead of crawling into her bed, we left, running down the street in the cool autumn moonlight like two kids finally escaping their parents. The little neighborhood park was silent and mostly dark. I pushed her on the swings and chased her through the monkey bars. Everything seemed possible, our future so close we could almost reach it, and Corabelle believed she could achieve this goal of the perfect score and a scholarship that would pay her way completely.

  Eventually we tumbled in the cool carpet of grass. The night had chilled down, and she snuggled into me, her black hair a curtain across my chest. We had looked at the stars, I remembered suddenly, lying like we had on the roof. I’d have to remind her of that. I didn’t know any constellations other than the Big Dipper, and we didn’t really talk about that then. I just know she turned into me and slid her hand under my shirt and across my belly, and we were lost.

  Too much. I set down a barbell and wiped my face with a towel. I hadn’t known how good I had it with Corabelle then, so willing, always matching me. That night had been beyond amazing, stripping down in the grass, the moonlight on her body, highlighting the curves of her breasts and waist and hips, brightening her hair as she crawled up to sit on top of me, straddling my waist.

  Her face and the stars were all one picture as I touched every part of her. My thumb went between us and found that sweet spot. Her eyes closed and she leaned back. I could see all of her skin, smooth and beautiful. She gripped my free hand, squeezing, and by paying attention to her sounds and movements, I knew when I had her close to peaking.

  I slid her body down, then up, until we were almost joined. Her eyes opened wide, and she smiled, adjusting so I slipped inside. I worked her faster and now she was frantic, leaning forward, her breasts near my mouth, bracing herself on the ground as she moved in a rhythm so hard, so perfect, that I could scarcely hang on myself.

  I knew when it all burst in her. She forgot where she was, crying out loud enough to set a few dogs to barking beyond the trees, grinding herself down on me with such force that I had no choice but to let go, filling her up, hanging on, breaking free of the need to hold back right as she dropped flat against me.

  We shuddered against each other, the quiet settling into the low hum of crickets and a faraway highway. I held her close and this time something came over her and she started sobbing. I thought maybe I’d hurt her, but she whispered “I love you” in my ear and the emotion was so intense that it flowed into me.

  I swear I felt that night as though some light began to glow, like something changed inside us both. Later, when we learned about Finn, and after the shock had worn off and we were settled into the revised version of our future, I brought that night up. Corabelle insisted it was impossible, that it happened later, but always, I felt that I knew, and for a long time I
hoped it meant that I had a connection with the baby that meant I’d be a decent dad.

  Chapter 18: Corabelle

  I was on fire. Everything inside my chest was burning like it might ignite.

  I broke the surface of the bathwater, coughing, gagging, and sucking in air. My arm and leg went over the side and I tumbled out onto the floor, shivering, naked, and in unbearable pain.

  Water dribbled from my mouth and nose and I sobbed uncontrollably, tightening into a ball on the floor, head to the rug. Calm down calm down calm down. You’re okay. You’re alive. You’re fine.

  The corner of a towel brushed against my hair and I yanked it down, rolling up inside it. The screaming heat was dying down, but still I hurt, my head pounding, my chest throbbing.

  Is this what I wanted? To die?

  Maybe.

  I considered this, trying to pull away from the pain, to concentrate on my thoughts instead. Did I want to die? Was it really that bad?

  Gavin. Jenny. Austin. I felt my past closing in.

  A square lit up in the dark, inches from my face. My phone. Another text from Jenny.

  Coffee shop boy must be a live one.

  I closed my eyes. I couldn’t handle her right now. Besides, she knew. Gavin had told her.

  Gavin.

  The need for him began to pulse like the pressure in my head. He became my breath. Gavin, Gavin, Gavin.

  I couldn’t move forward. I couldn’t go back. I wanted him here.

  I wanted him now.

  I reached for the phone, bypassing all of Jenny’s chipper messages and stopping on the one with his phone number.

  I shouldn’t call him. It was too much. His voice. What to say. Had he wanted to die at any point?

  Of course not. He wasn’t the guilty one.

  But he had walked away.

  So maybe he knew. Maybe he could help.

  He might be the only one who could help.

  I clicked on his number and then tapped out one word.

  Come.

  As soon as I sent it, a calmness flowed over me. I stopped shivering and lay still on the floor.

  Within seconds, I had a reply.

  Corabelle, is this you? Where? I’m coming.

  I typed the address. Once it was sent, I realized what a mess I was, wet, naked, clothes throughout the apartment. I scrambled up and wrapped my hair, hurtling through to my bedroom.

  As I yanked on a shirt and shorts, I regretted bringing him in. Nothing good could come from this. He had seen me with Austin. He couldn’t be happy about that.

  I picked up the clothes and stuffed them in the hamper. My hair was a disaster and couldn’t be combed, thick and tangled and wet. I twisted it into a messy bun and shoved a half-dozen bobby pins through it.

  I had a feeling I was going to spill my secrets. Maybe it was time to lay it all out. The weeks of the SAT. What happened in New Mexico. I’d already lost him once and survived. At least this time there would not be any lies or guilt.

  The doorbell buzzed. Too late to back out.

  I opened the door. Gavin stood on the porch, shirtless, sweaty, wearing only a pair of workout shorts and tennis shoes. My heart caught. His chest was as smooth as ever, but now he was so muscled, the hard pecs leading into his shoulders and broad sinewed arms. His lean waist disappeared into the band of his shorts, and I had to step back, blood rushing in my ears. All day long with Austin and I felt nothing. Ten seconds with Gavin and I had forgotten why I’d held myself away from boys for all these years.

  He grabbed my shoulders and yanked me to him, crushing my face against his neck. I fit there as perfectly as I always had, but his bare skin was a jolt, a spark that zigzagged through my body. I wanted to lift my chin, let him search my face like he used to, and lean in with those tantalizing lips. I needed to look at him, all of him, see what had changed and what remained the same. I wanted to feel something again.

  I felt a wave of emotion and held it in, but a small sound escaped, like a whimper.

  “Corabelle.”

  The word washed over me like a wave of cool air. No one pronounced my name quite like Gavin, who’d grown up with it, who first said it with chubby toddler cheeks, who tossed it out as we ran down pathways as kids. And who’d said it so differently that one time, that first time, when we realized we were not going to be forever friends, but expand into so much more.

  Cars passed by in the broken parking lots of the complex, shining lights on us. Gavin pulled me inside and closed the door. “You asked for me.”

  My throat was too tight to speak, but I nodded.

  “I won’t walk out on you again. Never again.” He was lit only by the yellowish light of the entry, but still, his dark hair and strong features were visible, those same eyes I’d looked into and trusted as a girl.

  When I didn’t answer, he pulled me back against him, and for the space of several heartbeats, we just stood there. I calmed down in degrees, relieved to be held after so long. I had forgotten how comforting it was to rely on another person.

  “Let’s sit down,” he said and led me to my sofa, a ratty bit of salvaged furniture covered in a bright rainbow blanket.

  He didn’t let go, but pulled me into his lap, cradling my knees up against him so that I sat sideways, curled against his chest. He breathed onto my hair and his heart thumped against my ear. I never ever wanted to move.

  Chapter 19: Gavin

  I was so afraid of scaring Corabelle away, I didn’t even want to talk.

  Her hair was chilly against my chest, like she’d just gotten out of the shower. She wore very little, just a tiny white tank top and silky shorts that showed so much leg, I had to clamp down every raging thought.

  Everything competed for dominance. Relief that she asked for me. Worry about why. And the need to touch her, to connect with someone who hadn’t been paid to be there.

  I just knew it was that guy. He’d tried something on her. My heart started pounding. I pictured him on her, pinning her down, and her screaming and beating on his back.

  I’d kill him. I’d break his scrawny neck.

  “Did he hurt you?” I finally asked, already imagining my fist connecting with his pathetic little face.

  Corabelle stiffened against me. “Who?”

  “That asshole you were with earlier. Did he hurt you?”

  She pinched the bridge of her nose, and I grasped her hand. “I’ll take care of him. He won’t go within ten miles of you again.”

  Corabelle shook her head. “No. No. He didn’t hurt me. He just — he wasn’t who I thought he was.”

  My relief was so intense that I exhaled in a big heavy rush. “Thank God.”

  “I — I haven’t had any trouble like that.” Her voice was so tenuous, so lost.

  “You don’t have to tell me anything,” I said. “I’m just here for you.” I hesitated. I’d been given this incredible opportunity. I couldn’t blow it. “I meant what I said. I won’t ever walk out on you again. Never.”

  With that, she pushed away from me and walked across the room. “It will never come to that.”

  I jumped up. “What do you mean?”

  She waved her hand in the air. “I mean, I’m done with relationships for now. I can’t do them. I won’t.”

  “You sure seemed chummy with short stack.”

  “When did you get so bitter?”

  “Maybe when everything went south, same as you?”

  Corabelle turned her face to the wall. “I shouldn’t have brought you here. I’m sorry.”

  Damn it. I was doing it all wrong. Bring it down. “I’m glad you did. I was dying to see you. I was so wrong the other day at your work. I said the wrong things. I even tried to badger Rainbow Brite to give me your number.”

  She turned her face to me, confused. “You mean Jenny? Yes, she told me.” Then her face completely changed, morphing into rage. She stalked across the room and before I could fathom what she was about to do, she punched me in the ribs. “You jerk. You complete a
nd utter asshole.”

  I grabbed her hand and stilled it against my chest. “I know. I shouldn’t have called you that.”

  “Called me what?” She searched my face a minute. “Oh, right, I’m easy.”

  “I’m sorry, Corabelle. I was so jealous. The thought that you were with him…”

  She struggled with her hand a moment, then hit me on the arm with her other. I accepted the blow. She had every right to do it. “It’s not that.” Her eyes went totally dark. “You told Jenny about the baby!” She struggled against me, but I held on. “Why did you do that?”

  “I was desperate. I had to get her to understand how important this was.”

  She tried to back away, but I kept her hand imprisoned. “I didn’t want anyone here to know!” she said.

  I jerked her back against me, my mouth against her hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  Her breath was fast and hard, her shoulders jumping. I knew I was screwing up when I did it. Still, I was here. I couldn’t regret it. Now I had a chance. She had to remember how good we were together. I had to remind her.

  My hand on hers was trapped against her breast and I became acutely aware of her body, the softness beneath the back of my hand, the shampoo perfume of her wet hair. I went full mast immediately. I knew the moment she noticed because she let out a little gasp.

  Corabelle tried to pull away again, but I kept her close. I couldn’t bear to let her go, not yet. “Give me just a minute with you,” I croaked out. “I won’t do anything, but just let me have this moment.”

  She relaxed and her belly pressed against me. It took all the control I possessed not to push harder against her, to trail my hand down her back, to move back into that heat we felt in the dish room at her work. Remembering her reaction to me then made my cock jump. I glanced down at her, those soft breasts pressed against my chest. Her nipples poked into the white tank and I lost it completely, grinding against her, letting her hand go to cup her chin and raise her face to mine. My mouth felt so hot against her cool lips. I needed her, all of her, and held her so tight that I don’t think either of us could breathe.