NOT SO Special: a bay falls high novel

by Kidman, Jaxson

  Ash tossed my bag to the bed.

  I took a step toward the bed and Ash grabbed my wrist.

  I gasped and looked back at him.

  His amber eyes tore through me…

  My teeth started to chatter like I really was in a cabin at the top of a mountain covered in cold snow.

  “Why wear it?” Ash asked.

  “What?”

  “The dress.”

  “You’re that intrigued?”

  Ash nodded. “Hil is at his place tonight. He may or may not be alone.”

  “Not alone?” I asked.

  There was a small buzz of jealousy that hit my nerves.

  Hil… with someone…

  “Not my business,” Ash said.

  “Okay. What’s your point?”

  “Uly is playing guitar tonight.”

  “What? Where?”

  The jealousy of Hil changed to excitement for Uly.

  “His place,” Ash said. “We were talking about East vs. West and he said he was going to sit around, drink, and play.”

  My mind raced.

  Images of Hil touching someone else. Using his cheap and dirty lines on someone else. The smell of his leather jacket and cigarettes… then switching to the sight and sound of Uly with a guitar.

  Yet I had Ash right in front of me.

  The one I texted first.

  I took a deep breath.

  “I bought the dress because of Uly,” I said. “He messed with me when he told me about his father. And Hil’s father.”

  “Right,” Ash said.

  “I went out tonight with Lizzy and Danica. Saw some stuff. Thought I was helping Jo but I just made it fucking worse for her. I think she’s in a relationship where cheating is okay. Which is fine. It’s her business and her life. I just thought…”

  The tears filled my eyes again.

  I sucked in a shaky breath.

  “Say it, angel,” Ash whispered. “It’s just you and me.”

  “I have nowhere to go, Ash. I’m lost. I’m fucking lost. Okay? So everyone wins now. You win. Hil wins. Uly wins. Them… wins. The Rulz wins. Jo wins. My mother wins. Sarah… Gray… everyone wins. But me.”

  “Belle,” Ash said.

  He reached for me and I slapped both of his arms away with some kind of wannabe ninja move.

  I then put my right hand to his chest to shove him back.

  I didn’t shove him back though.

  My hand rested against his chest for a few seconds (I counted in my heart).

  I curled my hand against his shirt, opened it again, and finally pushed at him.

  When I took my hand from his chest, Ash just stood there.

  Those moments like that between us…

  Ash then moved.

  Fast.

  Hard.

  His hands against my hips, turning me around.

  I faced the bed and waited for his body to press against mine

  But it didn’t.

  With my hair up (even though it was still messy), I felt the warmth of Ash’s breath at the back of my neck.

  I thought about Hil.

  I thought about Uly.

  They were… there… somewhere in me.

  But they weren’t like Ash.

  And maybe from the second I saw his amber eyes…

  Ash kissed my neck.

  Then he suddenly stopped.

  “I bet that zipper is hard to get undone by yourself,” he whispered.

  “Yeah,” I said. “it’s a bitch to deal with.”

  I shut my eyes and sucked in a breath when I felt Ash tug at the little zipper.

  The dress I bought with Jo’s money because Uly told me to… was being taken off by Ash.

  My back straightened as I listened and felt the zipper going down my body.

  Then it came to a stop.

  Ash touched my hip over the dress with his left hand. His right hand touched the bare skin of my back. His fingertips making invisible lines up… sending shivering pulses through my entire body.

  When his right hand reached my shoulder blade, Ash made another move. He inched that same hand down a little and then moved around my body. I felt myself leaning back into him. My knees were already starting to get wobbly.

  Fuck… fuck, fuck, fuck…

  His right hand moved over my right breast and I shut my eyes, biting my lip as I sighed. His left hand moved forward too, outside the dress, pulling along my leg to my inner thigh.

  That’s when I stepped forward and moved away from him.

  His hands were gone from my body, knowing not to push his limits.

  The dress was loose on me.

  I grabbed for my bag and unzipped it.

  With my favorite hoodie in my hand, I hurried to the bathroom.

  I didn’t even look back at Ash for a second.

  Inside the bathroom, I left the light off. There was a very faint glow from an outlet at the bathroom sink. That was all I needed as I took the dress off and left it on the bathroom floor. I put the hoodie over my head, tucked whatever loose stands of hair I found behind my ears, and I stood with my back against the door.

  My heart pounded from inside my chest.

  I put my head back and wanted to cry.

  I begged myself to cry.

  Because if I cried right now, it would explain everything.

  It would explain what I was feeling and what I wanted to do.

  Except there were no tears now.

  They were gone.

  Long gone.

  There was only one thing my body wanted.

  Ash.

  * * *

  If he’s not in the bedroom, then I know it’s-

  Ash stood just outside the bathroom door.

  “Oh, fuck,” I whispered.

  I jumped at him and he caught me.

  We kissed the way those who were in a real relationship kissed. Not that stupid party, sloppy kissing, hoping to fool around with someone and then go home.

  This was way different.

  The way Ash held me in his arms was protective.

  I wiggled my way out of his arms so I could stand on my own again.

  Because I had to get his shirt off.

  I fucking had to.

  My hands fumbled as I pushed his shirt up until Ash finally just grabbed the shirt from me and took it off himself.

  Thank you.

  I let out a gasp at the sight of his body.

  He was toned and cut in a way I could have only dreamed. The tattoos on his arms stopped at his shoulders. And there wasn’t a single piece of ink anywhere else.

  It seemed impossible for him to get any hotter than that.

  Ash grabbed the front pocket of my hoodie and pulled.

  As I stumbled toward him, he moved back to the bed. At the last second, he turned out of the way and I ended up hitting the bed first. I wasn’t sure how good I looked at it, but I got up on the bed and stayed on my knees so I could try my hardest to be eye level with him.

  My hands grabbed his face and we started to kiss again.

  It was fun, wild, freeing. It made me feel alive. I begged my heart not to go too far with its own story but that was already too fucking late.

  Ash broke the kiss and eased his lips to my neck.

  He knew how to kiss. Everywhere.

  His hands touched my legs and my body jumped. Thrusting at him.

  I felt like I was losing control with him.

  This was nothing like with the two other guys I had ever been with.

  With Danny, it had been cute and clumsy. With Gray, it had been more about proving something to myself instead of feeling something.

  With Ash…

  He moved his hands from my legs and I heard him open his jeans.

  I let out a sigh as his lips gently kissed their way back to mine.

  He didn’t kiss this time.

  Instead he stared at me.

  He stepped out of everything.

  My left hand twitched and casually reac
hed forward.

  Ohmygod…

  There was no reason to be amazed that Ash was ready like he was, but it still amazed me.

  His hands then took hold of the bottom of my hoodie.

  He pulled me against him.

  “Tell me you fucking feel it, angel,” he whispered.

  “Trust me, Ash, I feel it,” I said.

  “No,” he said. “That’s not what I meant. I know you can feel that. I’m talking about this. Us. You. Me.”

  “We,” I said with a grin. “It’s my decision… remember?”

  Ash curled his lip.

  I feared Ash walking away.

  He didn’t walk away.

  He kissed me again.

  Harder than before.

  Anything that seemed romantic was tossed aside like Ash’s clothes.

  His hands touched my skin. His long and perfect fingers sliding up the front of my body. And the only reason we broke our kiss was for him to take the hoodie off me.

  And that was it.

  Out of Them, Ash was the one who had me fully exposed.

  And he was fully exposed to me.

  I bit my lip before Ash could kiss me again. I looked down and bit my lip so hard my eyes filled with tears.

  Ash leaned down and kissed my shoulder.

  I gasped and put my head back.

  Ash then laced me with kisses.

  Shoulder to shoulder.

  Back toward my chest.

  Down…

  His hands touched my waist and he began to guide me back on the bed.

  His left hand grabbed the covers and pulled them down the bed.

  I fell to my back, at his mercy, at my own need, watching as Ash moved his body against mine.

  He dipped his evil lips and tongue to my neck.

  Kissing with such passion, the tingling sensation split itself between my heart and somewhere else.

  I turned my head so he could kiss the right side of my neck.

  His hand was inside the nightstand drawer.

  I gasped.

  Every second passing by, closing in on our moment together.

  Ash put his left hand flat to the bed and raised his body off mine.

  I lowered my head and Ash quickly kissed me.

  There was a pause between us as he readied himself.

  This was not my first time but yet it had that same feeling for some reason.

  Ash broke our kiss and put his forehead to mine.

  His hands were flat on the bed…

  Our eyes locked tight.

  I grabbed the sheets and whispered what I knew from the beginning.

  Fucking Ash was the one who was going to have the real chance to break my heart.

  * * *

  My fingertips grabbed his back as I pulled him closer.

  The giant bed had more than enough room for us.

  I lost my mind more times than I could possibly attempt to count. Phrases shot through my mind but were easily reduced down to words and then finally down to letters. Or just nothing…

  My body stole everything I had to offer.

  And I gave it to Ash.

  He returned the same to me.

  Our moment.

  Our connection.

  I opened my mouth to tell him something, but he stole my moment with a kiss. The kiss brought the end of our moment… but what a fucking ending it was…

  As Ash rolled to his side, away from me, he touched my shoulder and made me move too.

  We faced each other, both breathing heavy.

  Ash’s amber eyes were calmer. Kinder. A sense of the real him. A side that he probably never showed to anyone. Not even the guy looking at him in the mirror.

  With my right hand still shaking from everything, I reached out and touched Ash’s cheek. Then I moved my fingers up to the scar on his head. The scar that made his hairline look so perfect.

  Remember all those stories he told me that day? Which one was true? Which story led to this scar on his head and the scar that he hides behind?

  My mind began to race with a story. Or an idea. Or something to write.

  I swallowed hard and moved my hand away.

  Ash rolled to his back. “And the thoughts still rage, angel.”

  “Sorry,” I whispered.

  “No need to be sorry for that,” he said. “You’re the most honest person in BFH.”

  That made me shiver.

  Honest?

  I thought about what Lizzy wanted me to do.

  To dig for the truth in one of the worst ways possible.

  Unless…

  “You should try it,” I said.

  “What?”

  “Honesty.”

  “I’m always honest, Belle.”

  “You say a lot, Ash. I’m not sure what is real.”

  He grinned. “It’s always about the accident. Not sure why it matters. What’s done is done. Time moved on. Hearts moved on. The scar is still there. That’s the one piece of time that stopped.”

  I swallowed hard.

  I reached for Ash but he moved quickly.

  He rolled out of the bed and I pulled the covers up over my body.

  “Ash?” I called out.

  He didn’t answer me.

  “So that’s it?” I asked. “You’re going to get dressed and bolt? You going to go text Hil? Uly? Or call them?”

  Ash grabbed his clothes and looked at me for a second.

  Then he grabbed my bag and ripped it open.

  He took out a notebook and a pen.

  He flicked both to the pillow where his head had been resting.

  “Write it out, angel,” he said. “I’ll check up on you later.”

  Ash left the bedroom and I shut my eyes, my face burning with embarrassment.

  I reached with my left hand and touched the notebook.

  He wasn’t like Uly and Hil. He couldn’t write music or play an instrument. He didn’t write lyrics or poetry or anything. His voice was in tattoos.

  But even still…

  He understood it.

  What it meant to me.

  I opened my eyes and my eyes were full of tears again.

  Fuck… I just made my choice, didn’t I?

  eleven

  Usually staring into a mirror would show a person something. Of course, the eyes looking into the mirror see differently. I can point out what I swear is a stretch mark but when He looks into the mirror he’s staring at something else. I look in the mirror and count the pores on my face, wide open, ready to collect dirt and secrets to turn into something heart racing and embarrassing.

  But there’s a mirror that takes it away.

  The mirror can hide stretch marks and pimples.

  The mirror can hide scars.

  Like watching life move in reverse… that memory that cannot be erased now stands a chance to do so. The hands of the watch turn and point up.

  The ohmygod perfect hair ruffles like the hand of a caring parent.

  Do we really even know what that means?

  Maybe in this mirror that makes sense.

  The scar begins to bubble, lifting like hot dough in the oven. The scar slowly opens. Like the zipper… on a dress… and it all opens. It’s like a flower blooming. A rose opening. The petals are bright red, their perfect color running…

  I stopped writing and cringed.

  It sounded like a creepy horror story.

  I flipped the page and bit my lip.

  Looking around the room for inspiration.

  But I had all I needed.

  The cologne stained smelling pillow was proof of that.

  The smell of,

  you,

  On a pillow,

  That’s not mine

  The dress,

  The one,

  I hate, to wear,

  On the floor,

  Your bathroom

  I never want,

  To wear,

  that,

  Again,

  But you,

  It’s
so fine

  Steal me,

  Breaths,

  Whatever else,

  It’s not free,

  Not hard to find

  I hit the pen against the paper a few hundred times.

  That wasn’t too bad.

  It was something.

  Better than nothing.

  I skipped a few lines and went the Miss Whitaker route.

  Careless touch, for me,

  For you, this will be, our time,

  Don’t whisper, again

  I flipped the page.

  Fresh page, fresh words.

  I had nothing to worry about.

  Except Jo.

  It was a mess.

  What if you flipped the mirror around next?

  You think you see nothing,

  But you really see everything.

  to stare at nothing is to stare at everything.

  The beach breeze touches your chest,

  The room temperature wine stains your lips

  You know crying will make your mascara run

  So you dip your toes into the water

  You pretend it’s tears

  You release from there

  That casual look,

  The moment taken, it’ll definitely try to be given back

  To you

  And you’re too strong to take it

  But you’re not smart enough to ignore it.

  You work with hearts,

  I mean in the literal sense

  You stand on the wall you’ve built around your own

  You’ve figured out how to make the bad good again

  And the impossible becomes real

  With your hands

  Your fingertips are magical,

  The real kind that we call something else

  But you know what you know

  Yet when the heart keeps beating

  Beyond the text that reads of

  Another language

  There is another language

  It’s one you can’t speak

  And one that time dangles on a string

  The one you

  I felt lips press between my shoulder blades.

  My hand opened and the pen fell.

  My cheeks were bright red.

  The rest of my body burning like I had fallen asleep on the beach in the middle of a sunny day.

  “You’re done for tonight, angel,” Ash’s voice whispered.

  “So now you dictate when I write and when I don’t write?” I asked. “Is this you kidnapping me or something?”