I felt myself getting hard from her words, and I wrapped her in my arms. “Are you sure?” I asked.
“Yes,” she promised.
I lifted her up into my arms and headed upstairs to my bedroom. When we reached the room, I hurried and got Ham out of there, closing the door behind me. The bonus to living a life like the one I lived? I knew no one was going to barge in on us that night.
I placed her on my bed, and I stood in front of her. She looked up at me with doe eyes wide with wonder, and I watched as she studied my body, her eyes scanning up and down.
“Nervous?” I asked.
“Yes,” she replied.
“You still want to?”
She grasped the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, tossing it to the side of the room. “Yes.”
Why the hell was I wearing jeans around her again? My bulge was going to explode out of my pants any second now. She went to move my shirt up, and I paused, tensing up. “Wait, Chick…” I hesitated. I shut my eyes. I took in a sharp inhale, and she stopped.
“What is it?”
“I, um…” I turned away from her and my hands formed fists. I could hear Monica in my head, shouting at me. Has she seen your scars? “It’s just…”
“Hey. It’s okay. You can talk to me,” she said, her voice so reassuring.
I nodded once, knowing she meant it, but I knew words wouldn’t fix it. It wasn’t something that had to be said; it was something that needed to be shown.
I kept my back turned to her, lifted the edges of my shirt, and pulled it over my head. I revealed the markings that raced up and down my arms. Cuts from my past panics. Cuts from my messed-up brain. Cuts from my pained heart.
Her gasp was loud and clear. “Oh my gosh, Landon. What happened to you?!” she said, moving over toward me to examine the marks to my skin. Each mark stood for a time I lost myself. Each mark showed my pain and struggles against my skin.
My scars were healed, but still they were redder than the other parts of my skin. They raced in different directions. Sideways, up and down, slices of me exposed for her to see.
I closed my eyes, knowing they probably terrified her. Each day I showered, my fingers would brush against the memories of my mind.
She probably thought I was the worst kind of damaged goods, unworthy of love, unworthy of anything and anyone. Who could love someone with a mind as heavy as mine? Who could want someone with such ugly markings of their pain resting against their skin?
“My, um…” I took a breath, still unable to voice it—my truth. “Look, I get if you don’t want to hook up after seeing this, after seeing how fucked up I am in my head, but I figured I should show you before just freaking you out and taking off my shirt and—”
A chill raced down my spine as her fingers moved across the markings on my forearms. My shoulders rounded forward, and she traced the markings. My head lowered and I shut my eyes. I’d never felt so weak, so exposed…so real.
“You’re sad?” she whispered.
“Yes.”
“How sad?”
“Very sad.”
“How often?”
I swallowed hard. “All the time.” That truth was the hardest to tell. “My uncle was sad, too. He kept his hurting to himself. I saw it sometimes. I saw it, and I didn’t do anything about it. Not that I could. But, I should’ve tried harder. If I’d tried harder, maybe he wouldn’t have…” I took a breath. I lowered my head. “I found his journals after he passed away. He had a lot of dark thoughts. He was so lonely…but the scariest thing about reading his words was how much they matched my own mind, and that scares me. It scares me how much of my uncle I see inside of myself.”
“You’re not him, Landon,” she whispered, and I nodded slowly.
“Yeah…but what if I’m worse? What if my pieces are so messed up that I won’t ever be able to pull myself up? What if I end up like him?”
“You won’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I won’t let that happen.”
I shut my eyes. I tried to push back my emotions. I tried to understand why she hadn’t yet run away from the mess that was me.
“Can I ask you something that I asked you before?” she whispered, her voice low, controlled, perfect.
“Yes.”
“Are you depressed?”
The tears rolled down my cheeks, and I didn’t even try to wipe them away. I nodded slowly, feeling as if there was a bomb inside my chest that was seconds away from exploding. “Yes.”
“Okay.” She sighed and moved in closer. “Okay.”
That was all she said. She didn’t run. She didn’t tell me my depression was wrong. She didn’t shy away.
That was exactly what I needed.
I just needed someone to stay.
Her mouth fell against the scars and she gave them small kisses. She made sure to kiss every single one, before moving to my cheeks and kissing my tears away.
“You are more than the story these scars tell, Landon. You are more than your uncle. You are more than your depression. You are kind.” She kissed my chest. “You are strong.” She kissed my neck. “You are intelligent.” She kissed my palms. “You are talented.” She kissed my thumbs. “You are beautiful.” She kissed the corners of my eyes. “And this world needs you. I know those are just words, and you might not even believe them, but I am going to tell you them every single day, just as a reminder when you need it.”
She kept telling me things about myself as she kissed every piece of me. For every scar, she gave five more compliments, which she called my truths. For every pained memory, she promised me a better one for the future. She kissed my scars and called them beautiful.
“Landon?” she said softly, pressing her body against mine.
“Yes?”
“Can I have you tonight?”
Yes…yes…a thousand times yes.
“Yes, but the real question is: can I have you?”
“All of me,” she promised. “All of me is yours.” She nodded, so sure, and her sureness made my eyes want to water over with emotion all over again. I didn’t allow them to, though, because now my mind was on the best birthday gift I was ever going to receive: her.
I turned off the light, still uncomfortable with her seeing my scars. The only light that shone was a flood of moonlight coming through the windows.
First, I finished undressing her, and she hurried to take off my jeans. The freedom my cock felt when they were off was unbelievable. She studied my hard-on, in amazement, almost, as if still unsure what to do with it. Her finger trailed along the fabric of my boxers, and I shivered at her touch, shutting my eyes.
“For you,” I muttered. “Only ever you.”
She went to take off my boxers and began to lower herself to her knees, but I stopped her. “No,” I ordered, turning her around and laying her down on my bed. “You first.”
I got down on my knees, spread her legs, and returned to my newest favorite pastime—making Shay’s knees quiver in pleasure.
She twisted her hands in the sheets as I tongued her, moaning as I sucked her, crying out in desire as I pleased her. Each time she thrust her hips up toward my face, I worked harder at her clit. Each time she tried to pull away, I pinned her down a little more. I wasn’t going to stop until she exploded against my tongue in a way she didn’t know bodies could release. I wanted to taste all of her against my mouth. I wanted to drown in her and not come up for air.
“Landon!” she screamed my name into my pillow as her body released what I’d been craving, and I greedily licked her clean as my cock sat hard throbbing between my legs. “Oh my gosh, Landon, that was…that was…” Her words faded and I smirked.
“Good?” I asked.
“So. Freaking. Good.” Her breaths were heavy and she pulled me up to her mouth. I hovered over her body, my eyes dancing across her frame, and I loved every inch I was able to see.
She pressed her forehead against mine. “Now, I want you, all
of you, inside of me.”
I hesitated for a moment, knowing what a big deal this was for her. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, but…” She paused her slight movements in the bedsheets and looked up at me with an intense, emotional stare. There was a gentle fear that sat uncomfortably in her brown eyes. Her vulnerabilities were loud and clear as she lay naked in my bed. I knew that had to be scary for her—allowing me to see her in such a state. I had a feeling not many people saw that side of her personality.
“Can you do something for me?” she whispered as she placed her hands against my bare chest.
“Yes. Anything.”
She lowered my lips to hers and slipped her soft syllables straight into my mind. “Go slow.”
I didn’t know if she meant go slow with her body or with her heart.
So I took my time with both.
We became one in that moment, our hearts beating in the same way. When I entered her, she cried out, and I tried my best to take it easy, to take my time, to give her all of me at a pace that worked for all of her.
I loved it. I loved how she felt. I loved how she moaned.
I…loved…her.
I couldn’t say it then. If I knew anything, it was that you couldn’t tell a girl you loved her during the first time you had sex. Rule 101 of not being a douchebag.
But I loved her. I knew I did. How could I not?
Maybe I always had, even when I hated her. Loving Shay came as easy as the wind. It pushed through my system and left me completely breathless.
I was making love to her, and she didn’t even know it…she didn’t know my feelings for her, she didn’t know how she woke up the sleeping parts of me. She hadn’t known how her existence made me better.
So, I made sure she felt it. With every thrust, kiss, and moan, I fed her my love. I filled her up inside, hoping she knew, hoping she’d feel it, hoping she’d feel my feelings for her. Based on the way she opened her eyes and looked my way? Based on the way she caressed my cheek? The way she whispered my name?
I think she felt it, too.
I think she felt the love.
When we finished, we collapsed against each other, completely raw, and exposed, and real.
So very real.
“That…was…” She breathed out.
“Amazing.” I finished.
We didn’t say anything for a while. We lay in bed with nothing but the sound of our heavy breaths and wild heartbeats.
“We should get dressed,” she finally said, shivering a little. “I’m getting a little cold, plus we still have our movie marathon to do.”
I agreed, even though a part of me wanted to lie beside her for the rest of forever.
We went back to the living room and watched more episodes of Friends before turning on Home Alone and Pulp Fiction, followed by Breakfast at Tiffany’s and Sabrina. Two movies for me, two movies for her.
We laughed, too, which was something I thought I’d never be able to do on my birthday, but Shay had a way about her. She was able to make me laugh even when I thought it was impossible. Somehow, she managed to return my wild heart to a calmness only she’d ever been able to provoke. She made the darkest days feel like the sun.
It was well past midnight, and I knew she should’ve been heading home. I knew she was going to be in a shit ton of trouble with her parents come morning, but I was going to be selfish. I was going to ask her for something I probably didn’t have the right to ask her for.
“Shay?”
“Yes?”
“Stay with me tonight?” I choked on the words yet still got them out of my soul. I wasn’t above begging her to stay with me. I wasn’t above falling to my knees and requesting she stay by my side. All I knew was, whenever she was near me, I felt a little bit better. I felt a little less alone.
She didn’t bat an eye at my request. She didn’t shake her head in dismissal. She simply stood, held her hands out toward me, and pulled me to stand. “Let’s go to bed.”
We didn’t say another word that night. But when we reached my bedroom, I pulled her into a kiss. I pressed my lips against hers and whispered a lie. “I hate you.”
She smiled against my lips. “I hate you, too.”
“Okay, now kiss me and take off your clothes.”
She did as I said, and I hurried and stripped down, too.
I went to shut off the lights, and she placed a hand on my hand, shaking her head. “No, Landon…please…” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed my lips as she whispered, “I want to see you. I want to see all of you. Love me with the lights on.”
Our bodies rocked against each other, and I took my time with her once again. I did as she’d requested earlier, going slow. I’d never had sex like that before. I’d never had it with emotions, with feelings, with truths.
She now knew the parts of me I’d kept hidden for so long, and still…
She stayed.
That night, I fell asleep with her in my arms, and I knew there was no part of me that deserved her. But still.
She stayed.
She was gone when I woke up, and it made sense.
I’d slept past noon. It was the best night’s sleep I’d had in years.
I walked down to the living room, and everything was spotless from the night before. The pizza boxes and the snacks we’d had were all tossed into the trash cans.
On the refrigerator was a note: Open me.
I pulled the fridge open, and there was the big box Shay had brought, sitting on the middle shelf. I pulled it out and opened it to find eight perfectly frosted cupcakes, each one with a letter written on it.
I H A T E Y O U
A note was next to that, and I read it over and over again.
Happy Birthday, ya filthy animal.
-Chick
P.S. Don’t worry, I still hate you, but every birthday boy deserves a cupcake.
I picked up a cupcake and took a big bite.
Damn. It tasted absolutely amazing.
Fuck, Chick.
I hate you, too.
24
Shay
Mom and Dad sat in front of me on the living room couch. They stared my way as if they didn’t even know who I was anymore, but to be fair, I stared at them the same way. I missed Mima being at the house when I got home. I missed having her laughter, her warmth, and her wisdom so nearby.
“You’re grounded,” Mom said, her eyes burning with emotion.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” I muttered, crossing my arms.
“Don’t talk to your mother like that,” Dad snapped, pointing my way. “You’ve been acting out, and it’s not okay. So, from now on, we are putting our foot down. You don’t sneak out anymore, Shannon Sofia. You do not speak back to us with that attitude. You don’t bring boys back to our household, and you definitely do not stay out until morning. Do you understand me? Do you hear what I’m saying?”
I didn’t say a word, and my silence seemed to piss him off.
He stood up and approached me. “I said, do you hear me?”
I gritted my teeth together. “Loud and clear.”
“Why are you doing this, Shay? You’ve never acted out before. You’ve always been a good girl,” Mom said.
“Yes, tell us why. It makes no sense that you’re acting out. We don’t understand why you’re making things more difficult for this household,” Dad added in, and that made my skin crawl.
I huffed. “You’re kidding, right? I’m the one making this house difficult?”
“I don’t like the tone, Shannon Sofia,” Dad hissed, his hands gripping into fists.
“Yeah, well. I don’t like that you’re a liar.”
“Listen, you guys,” Mom started, but I cut her off.
I sat up straighter. “Are we going to have a family meeting about you dealing again?” I shot at my father. “Or are we going to pretend that that’s not a thing?”
“Shay!” Mom snapped at me.
“What? I don’t see why we skirt arou
nd the subject. Isn’t that why Mima moved out? Or why you kicked her out? For speaking the truth. If we are going to scold people for acting out, maybe we should start with Dad’s behavior.”
That pushed him over the edge. His clenched fists tightened, and he shot up from his seat. “You have a lot of nerve, little girl,” he barked, flashes of anger in his eyes. He took a step toward me, and Mom leaped up to stand, stepping in front of him to block his advances.
She placed her hands on his shoulders. “Stop, Kurt,” she ordered.
He grimaced and his eyes pierced into me for a second before he took a step back. “Go to your room,” he ordered. “And don’t fucking think about leaving it until we say so.”
I hated him. I hated how he pushed Mima away. I hated Mom for allowing it. I hated that our house felt nothing like a home anymore. It felt more like a prison cell, and I wanted to break free.
I did as they said. I went to my room, and I lay in my bed, with no regrets of being there for Landon. He’d needed somebody last night, and I was glad I had been there for him when he needed me the most.
When Monday came, the first and only thing on my mind was Landon. My second thought was Monica, who I found creeping through my locker.
“What are you doing?” I barked.
She took a step back and slammed the locker shut. “Oops, wrong locker,” she hissed, giving me a tight grin.
“Why do I feel like that’s a lie? What were you doing going through my stuff?”
“Chill, Shay. It’s not like you have anything of interest in that thing.” She pulled out a tube of lipstick and started applying it. “I saw you were hanging out with Landon for his birthday. That’s cute. What did you two do? Play Checkers? Chutes and Ladders?”
“That’s none of your business.”
She tilted her head and studied me. “Did he show you his scars?”
“Like I said…that’s none of your business.”
“Ohh,” she cooed, tapping her manicured nail against her lips. “He did, and let me guess, you slept with him, too. Poor, broken Landon needed a good lay for his birthday, and easy Shay was right there to give it to him.”
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