Chasing the Tide

by A. Meredith Walters

  But I’m sad.

  I miss Ellie.

  But I don’t think she misses me.

  Chapter Ten

  -Ellie-

  “God, what a freak!” Dania remarked, pointing at a guy walking with who I guessed was his mom, towards the front of the school. I didn’t recognize him so I assumed he was a new kid.

  I didn’t know why Dania seemed so interested in him. He didn’t look like anything special. A little awkward maybe, but nothing to write home about. But Dania was staring at the kid like a fucking animal at the zoo.

  “What’s wrong with him? He looks weird,” Dania observed.

  “Who cares? He’s just some new kid,” I responded, bored.

  “Just look at him, though!” Dania was so insistent. It was odd. I dropped the cigarette I had been smoking on the sidewalk and ground it out with the heel of my boot.

  I watched the kid Dania was going on about slink up toward the front of the school. His head was down. His dark hair was on the longish side and hung down in his face. I couldn’t really see what he looked like. His shoulders were slumped and he clasped his hands in front of him.

  “Okay, yeah, new kid’s a weirdo, can I bum a smoke?” I asked, poking Dania in the side.

  “Didn’t you just have one?” Dania asked, finally forgetting about the new kid. I held my hand out, wiggling my fingers.

  “Gimme!” I said, grinning.

  Dania rolled her eyes. “Those things will kill you,” she remarked primly and then snorted. “You’re too mean to die, so smoke away.” She jumped to her feet and started waving her arms. “Stu! Come here!” she shrieked.

  I sucked in a lungful of smoke and tried not to cough. I didn’t particularly like smoking. But Mr. Beretti hated it. He said the stink on my skin made him sick. If it made him sick then he wouldn’t try to cop a feel when he thought his wife wasn’t looking. Dania and I had become chain smokers in the last few months.

  Stu, Shane, and Reggie came over, completing our depraved social circle. Dania wrapped her arm around Stu’s waist. He barely acknowledged her, holding himself rigid, obviously bored by her attempts at physical affection. She was relentless when it came to Stu Wooten and he couldn’t care less.

  “Did you see the new kid?” Dania asked. I groaned. Time to beat an already dead horse.

  “What is your obsession with the freaking new kid?” I snipped.

  Dania glared at me, and I shut up. I may have balls of steel but even they didn’t stand up to Dania. Not unless I wanted to be swallowing her knuckles.

  Just then the bell rang and Dania’s look of death was momentarily distracted.

  A few minutes later, I sat in my desk in Mr. Goodwin’s English class and slouched down as far as I could go to still be considered upright. I hoped I could sneak in a nap during the next forty-five minutes. I was seriously low on sleep given the state of hyper vigilance I currently lived in.

  The feel of someone messing with my hair behind me promptly ruined my plans for a mid-morning siesta. I had long hair. Longer than I normally wore it but I found it a great way to hide when my eyes just couldn’t stay open during class.

  I heard someone huffing and puffing behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see the kid Dania had been watching that morning pushing my hair off his desk with the tip of his pencil.

  Seriously?

  I slouched farther down in my seat trying to ignore the obviously annoyed kid behind me.

  “Move your hair,” the new kid said loudly just inches from my ear.

  Everyone turned to look at the new kid and me. What a freak!

  Mr. Goodwin frowned, looking at me pointedly as if I had somehow caused the disruption. Of course I would get blamed. What else was new? But instead the teacher shockingly turned his disapproving eyes on the kid behind me.

  “Is there a problem, Mr. Hendrick?” he asked. The Hendrick guy didn’t say anything but I still felt him poking at my hair.

  He was really pissing me off and I wasn’t in the best of moods to begin with. I turned around in my seat and gave him my best don’t fuck with me glare. “What the hell is your problem?” I growled.

  The dumbass looked confused. Did he not understand English? What was his problem?

  “Your hair was on my desk,” he said. He stared at me for a long time and I strangely felt my face start to flush under his scrutiny. He had really green eyes. The greenest I’d ever seen. His lips were set in a straight line but they were nice lips. He was really cute. If I cared about that sort of thing.

  He pointed at my mouth and I resisted the urge to straighten my hair and rub at my smudged eyeliner. Because I didn’t want to admit I liked him looking at me.

  Normally I hated attention from guys but the Hendrick guy didn’t make me feel dirty. He made me feel almost…pretty. He wasn’t trying to peek down my shirt. He was giving me that open mouth stare that was reserved for super models and Dania.

  “Why did you do that?” he asked pointedly, staring at my lip ring and then I didn’t feel pretty anymore. He made me feel like a freak. Like there was something wrong with me. I was used to people looking at me like I was trash but for some reason, from this kid, with his green eyes that never really met mine, it bothered me worse than it usually did.

  So I did the only thing I ever did when my feelings got hurt. I went for the jugular.

  “None of your business, freak,” I hissed.

  The kid looked shocked by my words and for just a second I felt bad. Because he looked upset and bewildered. He sort of reminded me of myself before I had stopped feeling anything.

  **

  I dreamt about Flynn a lot. Even with him sleeping right beside me, he invaded every part of my subconscious, infiltrating my mind constantly.

  I woke up that morning with a lump in my stomach and my heart twisting miserably in my chest. My dream replaying over and over in my head.

  I felt guilty.

  Because I had dreamt about Flynn.

  But not the Flynn I loved in my waking world. No, this Flynn had been different. He had held me tight and told me that he loved me. He smiled and looked me in the eye without awkwardness and hesitation.

  He was Flynn but not Flynn.

  He was the Flynn that didn’t struggle with his disability. And for those first few seconds after waking, I looked over at the man sleeping beside me and I missed the man who never existed.

  For those moments as I was getting my bearings, I wished with all my heart for the man I had left behind in my dreams. And then Flynn stirred and flopped on his back, pulling the covers with him, and I felt horrible for thinking that.

  I hated myself for wanting something from him that wasn’t realistic and not at all fair.

  But I felt it all the same.

  The desperate desire for a few moments of normalcy. Being able to hear from his lips that he loved me. Not feeling tied to a place like Wellston because it would be too difficult for him to leave.

  I couldn’t help but wonder what my life would be like had I fallen in love with someone normal.

  And then I gave myself a mental slap.

  Who was I to determine what was normal?

  I was a woman who had never learned how to have functional, healthy relationships. I was the adult who had grown from the child who would spit on people that angered me and start fights to make myself feel better. My early life had been dictated by a bad temper and uncontrollable rage that had gotten me into trouble time and again.

  If anyone wasn’t normal, it was me.

  I rolled onto my side and watched Flynn sleep for a while. Things weren’t easy, but I wouldn’t have been happy with easy.

  Nothing worth having was ever simple.

  I reached out and gently ran my fingers down the side of his face in a way I’d never be able to do if he were awake. It was nice being able to touch him without his instant recoil. He was learning to accept physical affection from me but we were a long way off from holding onto each other without him pulling away.


  Typically I was okay with that. I wasn’t a touchy feely person by nature. It had taken me a long time to not identify touch with something sordid and violent. Loving Flynn had introduced me to all types of intimacy. Both emotional and physical. My heart was still trying to open up completely. To not lash out and hurt others when things got too hard or too real.

  I had issues. Lots of them. Who was I to feel any sort of resentment towards Flynn for his?

  And why did I have to force aside a simmering bitterness over his limitations?

  I knew what I was doing. I was slowly and deliberately willing myself to self-destruct.

  I was my own worst enemy. I was obsessed with my own failures…addicted to self-doubt like the worst kind of junkie. Wallowing in my shortcomings became a fixation that would eventually result in a complete and total meltdown.

  I was determined to not give into the compulsion to push Flynn away. To give into the anger and resentment like a lifeline. It was encoded in the fabric of who I was to put up walls. To keep a necessary distance.

  But loving Flynn didn’t allow for that. If I wanted him, I had to give him all of me.

  And I had to take everything he gave me in return.

  I was happy. Flynn was happy. We were happy together.

  This is what I believed. This is what I had to focus on. Not the ghosts of past Ellie that were resurrected the minute I crossed over the town lines.

  My fingertips lingered against Flynn’s cheek, needing him to ground me. He let out a quiet snore, his brows furrowing. He swatted at my hand, and I quickly snatched it back.

  That’s okay, Ellie. You love him. He loves you. Even if he can’t say it.

  I quietly got out of bed and left the room knowing I’d never go back to sleep. The house was freezing. Flynn insisted on lowering the thermostat to fifty-five degrees overnight, stating that it was the most effective means of conserving energy.

  I had tried to argue that it was better to pay more in heating costs than to freeze in our bed. Flynn wouldn’t hear it and since he was the one currently paying all the bills, I figured I didn’t have much room to say anything.

  I thought about going outside and getting some logs to start a fire but Flynn hated the smell of burning wood. The large, ornate fireplace was an original feature of the house that was built in the late 1800s. But Flynn rarely used it.

  Wrapping my robe around me, I opened the curtains in the living room and looked out. The sky was grey and overcast and looked like snow.

  It was only a little after six. Flynn wouldn’t be up for a while yet.

  I wish that I could crawl back into bed and cuddle with him. I wasn’t the cuddling sort, never had been. But knowing that Flynn wouldn’t allow it made me almost desperate for it.

  I turned up the heat almost defiantly. I knew Flynn would be unhappy but my teeth had started to chatter. Wanting something to do, I sat down at the desk and fired up the laptop.

  I opened my email and found a message from Nadine. There were three pictures attached. One was of her tiny apartment. There obviously wasn’t room for much beyond a small kitchen table and a couch. She hadn’t been lying when she said it was small.

  But the next two pictures negated any potential annoyance from living in a closet. One was of a bridge in Central Park and the last was of the shops and restaurants in Chinatown. Nadine’s goofy smile appeared just at the bottom of each as she tried to angle her phone to take the best shot.

  When are you coming to visit? You’ll love it here and never want to leave!

  Jealousy, raw and deep pierced me in the gut. Nadine was living it up in NYC and here I was in the middle of fucking nowhere twiddling my goddamned thumbs.

  I quickly opened a new tab, refusing to look at her email any longer. I wished that I could smile and be selflessly happy for her. But how could I when a small, though loud part of me, wanted to be there with her?

  I logged into my bank account and promptly felt even worse.

  I was officially living on fumes. If I didn’t find a job soon I would have to resort to blowing truckers at the gas station off the interstate.

  I was broke as a joke and it wasn’t funny.

  Crap. Crap. Crap.

  There was only so many times I could harass the places I had put in applications before they got a restraining order. And I would be damned if I took money from my boyfriend to buy fucking tampons.

  I remembered Jeb’s offer a few weeks ago. Given the heightened level of I’m Screwed, I was beginning to think it wasn’t such a bad idea. Sure it wasn’t ideal, but I wasn’t too proud to swallow a large helping of humble pie if I had to.

  Maybe I’d go to see him later today about getting on the schedule. I reminded myself that it didn’t have to be forever. It would be temporary. Just until I found something else. Something that didn’t make me feel like a grade A loser.

  What was the point of going to school if I’m back here to the same ol’ town and working the same ol’ job? You’ve come so far, Ellie McCallum. My inner voice was a raging asshole.

  I slammed the laptop closed and dug the heels of my hands into my eyes. I had only been up for less than an hour and I was already feeling the beginnings of a stress-induced headache.

  “What are you doing up already?” I glanced up to see Flynn and Murphy walk out into the living room.

  “I didn’t wake you up, did I? I was trying to be quiet,” I said, getting to my feet. I reached out to hug him but he moved away. Flynn wasn’t a morning person. I could empathize. I used to make a habit to not be up before the Price as Right came on at eleven. So I got that he didn’t want to be loved on the second his feet hit the ground. But his evasion bugged me.

  I was officially driving myself crazy.

  This is Flynn. Stop expecting him to be someone he’s not! I berated myself. Clearly my inner Ellie needed a good bitch slap.

  “No, my alarm clock just went off. It’s seven. It’s what time I always get up,” Flynn said, his voice gruff from sleep. He walked into the kitchen, and I followed him, Murphy and me dogging his steps as though waiting for a crumb of affection. I looked down at the hairy mutt and rolled my eyes.

  Flynn went about his morning, not speaking. He turned on the coffee machine and then opened the back door to let the dog out.

  I watched him as he filled Murphy’s bowl with food, measuring exactly one cup of kibble. He carefully folded the bag closed and put it back on the shelf before grabbing the bread from the counter and putting two slices in the toaster. Every action was methodical. By rote after years of never altering his routine.

  This was Flynn’s life.

  He went about the steps of his day, never deviating. And he was happy with that. He needed the consistency and the monotony. He only thrived in the predictable.

  The very things I had run away from.

  “Can I come by and have lunch with you today?” I asked suddenly.

  Flynn frowned, not looking up from the magazine he had left open on the kitchen table the night before and was now reading. “I take my lunch with me. I eat it in my classroom,” he said as though that should explain everything.

  Murphy started scratching at the back door, and I went to let him in but Flynn beat me to it. He all but pushed me aside as he let the dog in and meticulously wiped his paws.

  I sighed. “I know you take your lunch with you. But why don’t I bring you something today?” I suggested, trying to smile.

  “What would you bring me? I always eat a chicken salad sandwich. I made it last night. It’s all ready,” Flynn said. Of course I knew he ate a chicken salad sandwich for lunch. He had been eating a chicken salad sandwich for lunch as long as I had known him.

  “Why don’t you try something different today,” I said, reaching for two mugs and pouring coffee into them.

  “No milk. Two sugars,” Flynn instructed, and I had to bite my lip so I wouldn’t say something sarcastic that he’d never understand anyway.

  “Yeah, I know how yo
u take your coffee, Flynn,” I muttered, handing him the mug.

  Flynn looked at me for a minute. “You want to bring me lunch,” he stated.

  I nodded, not sure why I was pushing the subject. But it seemed important. Irrationally so.

  “You want to eat with me,” Flynn continued. I knew that diverging from his daily schedule could potentially cause him problems. It could leave him feeling off balance and easy to anger. I knew it was most likely too spontaneous for him.

  I was just about to take the offer back when he agreed to the plan, shocking the hell out of me.

  “I’d like to see you today. We can have lunch together,” he declared firmly, as though making a very important proclamation.

  “Really?” I asked, my eyes widening. I wondered whether I should mark this momentous day on the calendar to remember it. It was akin to asking him to jump out of an airplane without a parachute.

  “Yes. That sounds nice. We can have lunch in my office. It’ll be quieter there than in my classroom. I’ll eat whatever you bring me,” Flynn announced and he seemed almost proud of himself. And I knew to him it was a big deal. It was an acquiescence that was most likely very difficult for him to make. But he was making it…for me.

  My dream Flynn flashed through my head and I violently pushed him away. Murdering him before he could take root and taunt me mercilessly with his smiles and handholding and kisses without pulling away.

  I smiled at my real Flynn, the man with a mess of faults as complicated as my own.

  Flynn smiled back and then reached out to take my hand. I startled at the contact, but then felt warm all over as he squeezed my fingers.

  “I love you,” I said, meaning it with every single, tiny, jagged piece of me.

  He didn’t respond. He never did. But he held my hand.

  And for that brief moment, it was enough.

  Chapter Eleven

  -Ellie-

  I saw the new kid walking down the sidewalk away from the school. He was staring at the watch on his wrist and mumbling to himself.

  Dania and the rest of the group had headed into town to hang out at the arcade. I told them I’d meet them there but had instead gone to the library to read.