by Gemma Weir
Envy, an emotion I’m not overly familiar with hits me like a Mack truck. The effortless way he touches her, like he’s one hundred percent confident in her reaction to him, makes me ache in a way I’ve never felt before. I’ve never had that; never had a boyfriend I was so in sync with and without thought my eyes move to Griffin.
He’s looking at me and as our eyes meet something flares to light in his intense green depths. His lips part and I wait for him to speak, but instead his gaze moves to something behind me and the spark fizzles and dies. “Hey, Kent, nice to see you again, man,” he says, with a forced politeness.
Snapping my head around, I find a smiling Kent behind me, looking adorable in a pale-blue shirt, tailored beige khaki shorts and brown leather sandals. “Er, hi,” I say, hoping that I sound a little gladder to see him than I feel.
“Hi,” he says, leaning forward and pressing a soft, closed mouth kiss against my lips.
Wrong, wrong, wrong. The mantra sings on repeat in my head for the two seconds his lips are on mine. Wrong, it feels completely wrong that it’s Kent’s lips that are pressed against mine and not Griffin’s. I force a smile to my lips as I look up at the boy I’m dating and my heart softens a little. That tiny little kiss is the only other experience I have with kissing apart from with Griff. So maybe it’s not wrong, maybe it’s just different.
Kent slides onto the bench next to me and pulls a packaged sandwich and a bag of chips from his backpack. My soup is still in front of me, steam rising from the cup, so I turn my attention back to it and lift the spoon to my lips, stifling a groan when the hot, spicy soup hits my tongue.
Without thought my eyes lift to Griffin, but he’s not looking at me. His cap is pulled low and all of his attention is on his lunch. I wait, hoping his gaze will lift, but it doesn’t. After a while I give up and instead concentrate on my food.
“How was your hangover? Mine was the worst. My roommate is a total asshole and insisted on blasting music from like seven on Saturday morning.” Kent says, twisting the top off a bottle of soda.
“You should move into a place off-campus, least then you’d get to pick your own roommate,” Zeke says.
“Yeah, but most off-campus places don’t look like your place. Who the hell rented that house to a group of college kids?” he asks.
“I don’t know. Our parents sorted it for us,” I say quickly, before anyone can let slip that our families actually bought the house for us to live in.
“Nice. My parents insisted I stay in dorms after they saw what was available to rent, so you guys struck lucky.” Kent says, as he lifts his sandwich to his lips.
“Our families know how close we all are, they understand how important it is that we all live together,” Griff growls, then a malicious smile spreads across his face. He lifts his eyes to me, and I’m shocked by the anger I find in them before he turns to look at Kent. “Em’s parents are going to be here for parents’ weekend. I’m sure they’d like to meet you. Are your family coming in to visit?”
I feel my eyes widen and I kick Griff hard in the shin under the table, but he ignores me, his attention firmly fixed on Kent.
Kent twists his body toward me, his hand sliding onto my knee. “Emmy, I’d love for you to meet my parents. Maybe we could introduce our families to one another?” he says, a broad grin stretched across his face, like this is the best idea in the world.
“Errr, yeah, maybe,” I say non-committal, going back to my soup and lavishing it with far more attention than it needs. The others carry the conversation for the rest of lunch and as we all put our trash in the garbage can, I’m more than ready to get away.
Kent reaches for my hand and I let him. Today he’s touched me more casually than he has before. Nothing inappropriate, just those easy touches I’d been jealous of Nova and Valentine for earlier, but for some reason I don’t enjoy them as much as I hoped I would.
I like Kent, I really do, but apparently liking him and liking him are two very different things. Waving to the others, I ignore Griffin’s pointed stare and move to leave. Maybe that makes me a huge coward. Perhaps I should have stayed and asked him what the hell was going on with that kiss, but like the other times he’s kissed me, maybe there’s just nothing to say.
“Sorry, dude, but I need to talk to Emmy for a minute,” Griffin’s familiar voice drawls.
Spinning around, I look between Kent’s sweet face and Griffin’s dark, intense one. My eyes hold in place, staring at my brooding, confusing friend as I speak. “Err, Kent, I’ll call you later.”
“Oh, sure,” Kent says amiably, pulling on my fingers until I look at him. Then he leans in and presses another kiss to my lips. This time he opens his mouth, kissing me gently and sweetly, letting me set the pace.
I kiss him back, moving my mouth against his, hoping to feel something, but all I get is that it’s nice. It’s a nice kiss, with a nice guy.
When I pull away, he lets me, his lips spreading into a contented grin. “See you later,” he says, then waves to Griffin and the others and leaves.
For a moment I watch him go, not because I’m sad he’s leaving, but more to prolong the moment before Griff and I have what I know will be an awkward and uncomfortable conversation.
The moment Kent is completely out of view, Griffin’s hands cup my cheeks and he kisses me, his tongue forcing its way into my mouth. Shocked, I just let him devour me for a long moment and then I kiss him back, pushing all of my anger and frustration into my touch. He matches my intensity and pushes back with his own until it’s as much a battle of wills as a kiss. When it feels like the air around us shatters, our kiss softens, and anger makes way for passion. Instead of clinging to him with my nails, I wrap myself around him, feeling the way his body responds to mine. His bruising hold changes to him pressing me as close to him as he can and I melt into his chest, wanting nothing more than to be near him.
His lips dominate mine and I feel marked, claimed, like he’s letting everyone else in the world know that I’m his. All I can hear is the sound of my pounding heart echoing through my chest, and all I can smell is Griffin, a scent so achingly familiar that it’s every good memory, eternal support, happiness, and endless love all rolled into his unique fragrance.
Then he’s gone. His lips no longer touching mine, his hands no longer holding me to him, and I feel bereft, lost, and unmoored. When my eyes can focus, I look at him. His eyes are wild, his chest moving up and down with each ragged breath.
I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. His lips part and I pray for him to say something, to do something, but instead he just lifts up his hand and drags his thumb across my bottom lip, touching the pad to his own mouth before he turns and walks away from me.
“What the actual fuck was that?” I say, as I watch him disappear around a corner, never even glancing back.
“Hot, that was seriously freaking hot,” Nova says, appearing at my side and making me jump.
My eyes widen and I realize that he just kissed me out in the open, in front of all of the people still left in the quad including Nova, Zeke, and Valentine.
“I…” I start, then realize I have no idea what to even say.
“You guys are together! This is amazing. I always hoped it would happen, but I figured if it was going to, it would have by now. I’m so happy for you,” she gushes.
I shake my head. “We’re not together,” I say dazedly.
“I’m pretty sure that kiss says you are,” she laughs.
I look over to where Zeke and Valentine are standing; smug, amused expressions on their faces.
“He just walked off; he keeps walking off. Plus, I’m dating Kent, and Van too I think.”
“You’re what?” Zeke says, marching toward us.
“I…” I say, shaking my head as I struggle to process my thoughts. “I agreed to go on a date, a sort of date with Van, and Kent wants me to meet his parents.”
“But Griff—” Zeke starts.
“He’s gone,” I snap. “
He keeps doing this shit and then just leaving.”
“He—” Zeke starts, but I interrupt him again.
“Isn’t here,” I say, my voice hardening. “I have to get to class.”
“Emmy,” Zeke calls.
“Em, you need to talk to him,” Nova says, reaching over and squeezing my arm.
I nod, more to appease them, rather than because I actually plan to follow through. Then I wave goodbye and head in the direction of my next class. When I reach the door to the building my art history class is in, I stop, my feet refusing to move any closer.
He kissed me and then he just left, what the hell does that even mean? A wave of homesickness crashes over me, and for the first time since we moved to Alabama, I miss my home. I miss Archer’s Creek and my parents. I miss knowing what to expect and how people will behave.
I craved something new, something different, but right now, different is scary and frustrating, and just too much and I want things to go back to the way they were.
Turning on my heel, I walk away from my class and head back to the house. As I push through the front door, I kick off my shoes and run up the stairs to my bedroom, closing and locking the door behind me.
Lifting my comforter, I crawl underneath it, pulling it up and over my head as if the darkness will protect me from all these strange and confusing thoughts. Some days I feel like an adult, but in this moment I have never felt more like a child.
Pulling my cell from my pocket I dial the number I know by heart, my protector, my dad.
“Baby girl,” he answers on the second ring.
“Daddy,” I rasp, emotion clogging my voice.
Seven hours later with my backpack over my shoulder, I run across the arrivals lounge and throw myself into my dad’s embrace. Strong arms lift me off the ground and the familiar feeling of home surrounds me.
“Hey, baby girl,” he murmurs into my hair.
“Hey, Daddy,” I say back, as he lowers me to the floor and pulls back to look at me.
“Come on, my bike’s outside.”
Following my dad, I climb on behind him, holding onto his waist as his bike roars away from the curb and onto the familiar Houston highway. I’ve always loved riding with my dad, the wind blowing through my hair and the sense of freedom that I’ve never experienced anywhere except on the back of a bike. Like a balm to my ragged soul, I block out all my chaotic thoughts and just focus on the ride, allowing it to soothe me until I feel calm and peaceful.
Before I’m ready, we’re pulling into our driveway and mom is rushing out of the front door, our West Highland terrier puppy Norris scampering along excitedly behind her. “Sweetie, are you okay?” Mom asks, her hands pulling me in for a hug the moment my legs are free of the bike.
“I’m fine, Mom. I just got a little homesick that’s all,” I say, not ready to talk about Griffin yet.
“Oh, baby, that’s okay, nothing a couple of days R&R won’t fix. I already emailed the welfare office to say you’ll be missing classes because of a family emergency, so you won’t get marked down, and they’ll be sending you all of your notes through on the bulletin board.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I croak, tears filling my eyes. “I missed you.”
She hauls me in for another hug and I burst into tears, sobbing against her shoulder. After a minute, I pull back and inhale, trying to pull myself together. Her concern filled eyes meet mine and I sniffle. “I think I might go take a nap,” I say.
“Okay, honey,” she says, wrapping her arm around me and walking me into the house.
Stepping into my childhood home, I try to remember why I so desperately wanted to leave, when right now this place feels like everything good in the world. Leaning down, I scoop Norris into my arms and rub my cheek against the soft fur on his head. “Come on, dude, you can come nap with me, I missed you too.”
The puppy licks my cheek, then settles against me as I head for the stairs and the solace of my bedroom. My cellphone feels heavy in my pocket. I switched it off when I got to the airport in Alabama and right now, I’m not ready to turn it back on again.
I sent a message to our group chat before I left, so they wouldn’t panic, not knowing where I was, but I know they’ll all still be losing their minds. Grimacing, I remember what I wrote and wished I’d worded it differently.
Me – Hi guys, don’t freak out, but I’ve headed home for a couple of days. I’ll be back before Monday. See you later xoxo
That was it, all I said, then I turned my cell off and haven’t turned it back on yet. I’m an asshole.
Pushing into my room, I expect it to feel different and not like home anymore, but apart from the air seeming a little stale from where the door had been shut, it still feels like my room. Crawling onto my bed, I place Norris down next to me and he quickly spins in a couple of circles before collapsing into a heap and yawning a puppy yawn.
A wave of exhaustion hits me and I lay down, resting my head on my pillow, trying to sort through some of the millions of thoughts that are running through my head. The moment I’d spoken to my dad earlier all I’d wanted to do was come home, to my real home, to Archers Creek, and because my dad is my hero, he sorted it for me. An hour later I’d had an email with an airplane ticket on my cellphone and the option to run away from the new, different life I so desperately wanted, at least for a little while.
I know all the problems I have to deal with will still be there when I get back, but at least for a couple of days I can hide from them, until I can figure out how in the hell I’m going to deal with everything.
The house phone starts to ring and I have a feeling I know who it’s going to be, so like the child that I am, I squeeze my eyes shut and pretend that if I can’t see my issues, they can’t see me either. Not the most mature attitude I know, but I don’t want to be mature right now.
A few minutes later I hear my door handle turn and my door crack open. I freeze, keeping my eyes closed and my body as still as a statue. I’m fairly certain my mom knows I’m not actually asleep, but I have never loved her more than when I hear her say, “I’m sorry honey, she’s asleep.” She pauses as whoever is on the phone speaks, then she says. “I will. I know. Okay, love you.”
Then my door glides shut again, and I exhale a relieved breath. I must fall asleep for real, because the next thing I know Norris is whining and scratting at my bedroom door asking to be let out. Crawling from my bed, I open the door and he takes off like a rocket, rushing down the stairs so fast I worry that he’ll end up tripping and gamboling all the way to the bottom.
Following him down, I open the French doors off the kitchen and he rushes into the blackness of the yard. I breathe deeply, inhaling the familiar scent of early morning Texas then pad barefoot into the yard and lower myself to one of the cushioned couches on the corner of the patio. Pulling my feet up, I rest my chin on my knees. I’m not sure what time it is, but the first rays of sunlight are peeking their way into the horizon, making the sky look like sparks are just beginning to smolder, before flames emerge.
I’m still wearing my clothes from yesterday. My jeans are clinging to my legs, my shirt twisted and falling off one shoulder. My cell isn’t in my pocket, and for a moment I panic, until it dawns on me that it must have fallen out as I slept.
My feet move without thought and I’m halfway up the stairs before I make the decision to go and fetch it. I find it tangled in my sheets, the screen black and lifeless. Sighing, I make my way back into the yard, grabbing a bottle of water from the refrigerator as I pass, then sit back down on the sofa as more embers of daylight begin to spark in the sky.
Pressing the power button, my cellphone sparks to life and nausea fills my stomach along with a healthy dose of guilt. I wait, expecting the chorus of dings and pings that tell me I have waiting texts, or WhatsApp, or Snapchat messages, but instead I get nothing, silence.
Confused, I click into our group chat first. I can see the last message I wrote before I turned my cell off, then nothing. Not one single mes
sage. Nothing asking if I’m all right or shouting at me for leaving, just nothing.
Swiping my finger across the screen, I move through my apps, but there are no new messages on anything. Disappointment, fear, and overwhelming sadness pool within me, swiftly consuming me until all I can feel is desolate isolation.
I didn’t come home to provoke a reaction from Griffin or my friends, but I expected some messages of concern or support. I never even considered that me running away would get no reaction from them at all. Did I finally manage to push them away?
All of my breath evaporates, and I suck in a lungful of what feels like glass shards. My selfishness, my desire for something new, has finally pushed away the most important people in my life, right when I need them the most, and it’s all my own fault.
Yesterday afternoon everything had felt so big, so overwhelming, that I’d reacted without thought. I needed to be saved, so I called my greatest protector, my knight, my daddy and he swooped in and saved me, just like he’s been doing my entire life.
Everything had felt so out of control and I just had to get away. Griffin kissed me, right there in front of everyone and then just walked away and I still have no idea what any of it actually means. I should have stayed; I should have chased after him and insisted he explain what the hell he’s doing. But instead I ran, because I’m so full of my own bullshit fantasies of what my future should look like, that when I actually find something that’s better than I even could have imagined, I don’t know how to deal with it.
Norris paws at my leg to get my attention and I scoop him off the floor and into my lap. He yips playfully, then scrabbles from my grasp and disappears into the house. Following him, I lock the door behind me, intent on making my way back up to my room, when a flash of white fur barrels out of the family room, rushing around my feet in circles, before darting back off again.
