Sweet Dandelion

by Micalea Smeltzer

  The sigh he exhales is sad, tinged with a little bit of frustration. “I’ll go get it for you.”

  “I can get it myself.”

  Another sigh, this one even heavier with frustration. I force myself to look at him, the fingers of his left hand sit on his hip and he rubs his brow with his right. “I said I’ll get it, Dani. You … sit here.”

  He motions for me to stay and heads out, the door closing a bit too loudly.

  Laying down on the couch, I stare up at the ceiling reliving the fear all over again, what I experienced a year ago is fresh for all those students only a few miles away.

  “I never thought anything like this would happen here,” I heard so many people say after the shooting.

  I think that’s part of the problem, the human naivety that wherever you are is safe, but anything can happen to anyone, anywhere. I’m not even trying to be a Negative Nancy, as my mom would say, it’s just the damn truth.

  Laying my hands on my chest I tap my fingers impatiently, waiting for Mr. Taylor to return. There’s more than one art room, but since he didn’t ask for details I didn’t give them.

  The phone in his office rings, and even though I shouldn’t, I swing my legs onto the floor and get up to answer it.

  “Mr. Taylor’s office,” I answer.

  “Um … is Mr. Taylor there?”

  “He stepped out for a moment.”

  “Oh … okay. Is this Dandelion Meadows?”

  “The one and only.”

  Papers shuffle in the background. “Um, yes, we were able to get ahold of your brother. He said he’s leaving work now to get you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Mhmm. Have a good day.”

  “Yep, you too.” I hang up the phone as Mr. Taylor enters the room, with my backpack hanging from his hand. I wonder what he thinks of the patches ironed onto the front. There’s a sunflower, a doodled Post Malone, and some other random ones.

  “Why were you on the phone?” His eyes narrow as he sets the bag down.

  “Office called.” I move from behind his desk and since the room isn’t the largest, it puts us nearly chest to chest. “My brother will be here soon.”

  He dips his chin. His eyes are dark swirling pools. “Talk to me.”

  “I already have.”

  He shakes his head, jaw taut. His hands go to his hips and I try to ignore the veins roping up his forearms. “Not enough, Dani. You give me bits and pieces before you shut down. I am trying so fucking hard to help you, but I can’t if all you give me is crumbs.” He raises and lowers his hands.

  “Who are you trying to help me as?” I counter.

  “Huh?” He blinks at me.

  I cock my head to the side. “As Mr. Taylor or as Lachlan?”

  “B-Both,” he stutters.

  I shake my head back and forth, taking one small step away from him. I have to move from the intoxicating scent of his cologne so I can think straight.

  “I wish I could give you more, tell you everything, but when I can barely make sense of my thoughts…” I trail off, wrapping my arms around myself. “I’m already giving you all that I have, bit by bit, I am trying and that needs to be enough.”

  His features soften and he reaches for me before letting his arms fall to his sides with a crestfallen expression as he realizes where we are and he can’t touch me like that.

  Innocent touches shouldn’t matter, but when there are real feelings behind them that’s when it becomes a problem.

  “I’m going to wait at the front.” I bend at the waist, picking up my backpack he set down only moments before.

  “It’s cold.”

  “I’ll wait inside.”

  He lets out a frustrated breath. “Let me wait with you, then.”

  “Why?” I counter, my tone snarkier than I intend it to be. “If I was any other student, would you be offering to wait with me?”

  He pales slightly, his lips parted. “I-I don’t know.”

  At least it’s an honest answer.

  Blowing out a breath, I reach for the handle on the door behind me. “I’m a big girl, Mr. Taylor. I’ll be fine.”

  There’s a stricken look on his face, and whether or not he realizes it, he reaches for me again.

  Turning, I let the door fall closed behind me.

  I trek through the empty halls, waiting in front of the massive doors and windows for the sight of Sage’s Maxima to show up.

  When it does, I run outside, slipping into his warm car, letting my body melt into the heated seats.

  Sage looks worried, and when the first words he utters are, “I’m so sorry,” I know they told him about the other school, or he saw it on TV.

  I look out the window, pretending I don’t see the tall form standing outside, hands in pockets, sans coat.

  “Me too.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  I’m taken by surprise when Sage parks across the street from Watchtower. He puts the car in park, letting the engine run, and looks over at me with a tender expression. “I guess this is your thing with Ansel,” he pulls a face at the name, “but I thought we could get coffee before going home.”

  Giving a slow nod, I reach for the handle.

  We walk across the street, placing our order.

  “Should we sit?”

  Again, I give him a nod.

  He lets me choose the table. Despite it being the middle of the day many are already taken.

  While he waits for our order, I sit down, tapping my fingers against the lacquered tabletop.

  One of the regular workers hands him the drinks and flashes a smile in my direction with a wave.

  Sage places the cups down, pulling out the chair across from me.

  He rubs a hand over his face, picking up his coffee cup and taking a sip. Sitting it back down he wraps his long fingers around it. “I don’t even know what to say, D.”

  “You can’t change what happened today.” I bring the straw to my lips, sipping my boba tea. “Evil exists and we have to deal with it.” Running my fingers through my wind-tangled hair, I take a breath. “I … wasn’t expecting it. I should’ve, but … I couldn’t anticipate it happening again so close.”

  Sage flinches.

  “It could’ve so easily been my new school. What are the odds?” I let out a humorless laugh. “It’s not fair, and I know the saying is life’s not fair, but some things should be, you know?” Sage’s lips pinch, but he sits quietly, letting me speak. “I should be able to walk into school without fear. I shouldn’t have to look over my shoulder, wondering if some asshole with a gun is lurking around the next corner. I shouldn’t be afraid of tight spaces or rooms without windows. But that fear lives inside me and so many others, and at the end of the day it doesn’t matter. We don’t matter.”

  “You matter to me,” Sage whispers, reaching out with one hand and placing his on mine.

  I turn my hand palm up and squeeze his hand. “I know.”

  Neither of us say it, but when I look in my brother’s eyes, so close to the shade of my own, I know we’re both thinking the same thing.

  If only it were enough.

  Sage drops me off at the condo. He has to return to work after a call he received on our way back. I could tell he was pissed, but he didn’t tell them to shove it. Instead, he fell into place like a good little minion.

  I enter the empty space like usual, turning on lights as I go.

  Hating the eerie silence more than usual, I put my music on and grab a change of clothes, padding across the hall to the bathroom.

  Turning the water on, I wait for it to steam the room before I slip out of my dirty clothes and toss them in the nearly full hamper. Since Sage had to go back to work, I might as well do the laundry once I’m out.

  Anything to keep me busy and my mind distracted.

  I step into the glass-enclosed shower, letting the spray drench my body and hair. Standing beneath the rain shower head I watch the water swirl down the drain. Flexing my toes, painted a ho
t pink color called Flusher Blusher, my thoughts drift to Mr. Taylor.

  Lachlan.

  As hard as I’m trying, he’s Lachlan to me.

  I pushed him away today out of self-preservation, but I still feel like an asshole. I could’ve been nicer, he was only trying to help me and get me to talk, but I needed him to hurt as much as I was.

  The hot water cascades around me, quickly pruning my fingers. As much as I want to stay in here for an hour, I know that’s not the best idea. I reach for my peach scented shampoo, squirting some in my hand before lathering it into my hair. It isn’t long before the suds are swirling down the drain and I’m conditioning my hair. While the conditioner is sitting on my hair, I grab my yellow loofah and slather it with my body wash. I thoroughly scrub every inch of my body, trying to wash away the icky feeling of today, but it doesn’t take me long to realize nothing is going to do the trick.

  Rinsing my hair and body, I step out, wrapping a fluffy towel around me.

  My wet skin and hair drips onto the rug in front of the sink, but I’m the only one who uses this bathroom so it won’t matter if it gets damp.

  Wiping the condensation from the mirror I lean forward, poking at the skin beneath my eyes and my cheeks. I look exhausted and I know the combination of today’s news with my already little sleep has done a number on me. If I’m lucky I might doze off before Sage gets home.

  I blow my hair dry a little bit so it won’t be dripping wet down my back and change into the clothes I brought in here with me. Stifling a yawn, I grab the laundry basket and carry it to the small laundry room offset from the kitchen. I load up my clothes and start the cycle, moving Sage’s clothes from the dryer to a basket, setting it in his room.

  It’s a while later when there’s a knock on the door.

  I exhale a weighted sigh, wondering who it could be. We never have visitors unless the deliveryman counts, and I didn’t order any food.

  Standing on my tiptoes, I peer through the peephole, a small gasp emitting from my lips when I see Lachlan on the other side.

  Coming down flat on my feet I nibble my bottom lip as he knocks yet again.

  Placing my palm flat on the door, I steady myself and open it.

  He clears his throat awkwardly. “I … is your brother here?” He points inside. “I wanted to check on you after today.”

  “He’s not, but what if he was? You shouldn’t be here,” I hiss, glancing in the hall like Sage might magically appear.

  He runs his fingers through his hair in an agitated gesture. “I wanted to see if you were okay.”

  “How do you even know this is where I live?” He’s never been to my apartment before, so there’s no way he’d know.

  “I asked downstairs.”

  “And they told you?” I arch a brow, still standing in between the door and wall, blocking his entry.

  “Yeah.”

  I harrumph. “Security is pretty lax then, huh?”

  He blows out a breath. “Dani, please, I’m not here to argue with you or make myself look like an even bigger ass. I wanted to see you and ask how you are. That’s all.” He looks me over and I shake my head.

  Pushing the door open wider, I silently invite him in. “Sage won’t be back for a couple more hours I suspect, but you have five minutes. I want to have some popcorn and take a nap.”

  Crossing my arms over my chest I give him a challenging look while he’s busy taking the apartment in.

  “Five minutes is enough.” He finally lowers his head and blinks at me. My hair is in a messy bun on top of my head, my sweatpants are loose and baggy, an old pair of Sage’s when he was my age, and my t-shirt is loose but it’s obvious I’m not wearing a bra.

  “Do you want popcorn?” I ask, because I might as well try to be polite.

  I don’t even know why I’m angry at him—no, not even angry, just irritated.

  “I’m good.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  I open the cabinet, standing on my tiptoes to reach the red box, but then Lachlan is there suddenly, his body large and warm behind me. He places a hand on my hip, stretching up and grabbing the box easily. He steps away, holding it out to me.

  “Thanks.” My gratitude is non-existent in my tone as I snatch it from him.

  He clears his throat, stepping away awkwardly, to lean against the column that leads into the kitchen. He’s probably realizing how close our bodies were and that while Sage might not be here, this definitely isn’t the place for us to be testing our limits.

  I peel back the cardboard flap, pulling out the plastic wrapped popcorn. While my fingers make quick work of ridding the popcorn pack of plastic, I eye the tall, imposing man taking up space in the kitchen. It was over a week ago when I slept in his arms, and I want nothing more than for him to wrap them around me now, hold me tight, but I’ve heard what he’s said and I might be young but I’m not stupid. While I don’t care about our age difference, or our positions, I do care about someone finding out and it hurting him. If he lost his job because of me I would never forgive myself.

  “You better start talking. Your five minutes already started.” I turn around, opening the microwave to place the pack inside. I push the button on the microwave and it hums to life with power while I turn back around, facing Lachlan.

  Mr. Taylor, Mr. Taylor, Mr. Taylor, I chant silently in my head. He’s not Lachlan to you. Not anymore and he never should have been.

  I stand with my hands behind me on the counter, staring straight at him.

  He stares back with a stubborn set to his jaw and those dark brows drawn tight.

  Canting my head to the side, I decide to wait him out.

  After another minute he blows out a gust of air, shoving his fingers through his dark hair. There’s a stubborn set to his lips when he looks back at me, but he shakes his head.

  “I wanted to see if you were okay, I guess.”

  “You guess?” I arch a brow, moving my arms to cross them over my chest. “You have my number. You could’ve texted me.”

  “See, Dani. I wanted to see if you were okay. With my own two eyes. I felt so fucking helpless today. I don’t know what to do or say to make this better for you.”

  I wet my lips, glancing away from him. “You can’t do any of that, no one can,” I admit with a soft breath. “What I need you can’t give me.” My tone is sad, and if he keeps standing there I’m afraid I’ll cry and I really don’t want to. I want to eat my popcorn and take a nap—hide away from this hateful world for a little while.

  He takes a step forward before he stops himself. His jaw ticks, hands opening and closing at his sides. “Tell me anyway, tell me what you need.”

  I twist my lips back and forth, but I know I won’t be able to keep the words to myself.

  “To be held,” my voice cracks, “comforted, understood, loved. Being there makes all the difference, because words often aren’t enough, it’s action that I need.”

  It takes him two more of his massive steps before he’s in front of me. One second and his arms are around me. One heartbeat and his lips are kissing the top of my head.

  Behind us, I smell the popcorn burning as it over pops but I don’t care. I don’t want the popcorn anymore, but I do want Lachlan even if I shouldn’t.

  He tucks my head under his neck. Pressing my ear to his chest, I feel the steady pounding of his heart. So solid, so sure. As strong and powerful as he is. The smell of his cologne and something more that’s uniquely him fills my lungs as I breathe him in.

  I was irritated when I saw him standing outside the door, but now I’m more than happy he’s here.

  “I’ll hold you,” he murmurs against the top of my head, his embrace tightening. “I’ll hold you as long as I can.”

  “Forever.” I fist the back of his shirt in my hands, shuddering with the admission of how much I truly want him. “I want you to hold me like this every day for the rest of forever.”

  “Dani—”

  “Shh,” I hum. “I know.
”

  But let me dream.

  He sways me back and forth slightly. The microwave beeps behind us, reminding me I haven’t gotten it.

  “Your popcorn.” He starts to let me go but I wrap my arms tighter around his torso. God, I could live in this man’s arms.

  “I don’t care about the damn popcorn.”

  He lets out a small chuckle, hugging me again.

  I itch to stand on my tiptoes and kiss him, but I know I can’t. It kills me a little inside. But having him hold me eases some of the ache that’s filled my body today since I found out the news.

  I decide, since he came here and all, to share some of my thoughts. It’s a thank you without using those two words.

  “Hearing what happened today reminded me so much of that day. How a day can start off so normal and suddenly become something else entirely. It’s a shattering of naivety and even though I lived through that, I’ve become comfortable here.” His hands flex at my sides. “This was a reminder that comfort is an illusion. Any moment can be your last.”

  “You’re allowed to feel comfortable, Dani.” His voice rumbles against me.

  “Doesn’t seem that way.” I let out a humorless laugh. “I hate that all those people at that school had their naivety taken from them too. Sometimes it’s better to remain in the dark.”

  I tilt my head, looking up at him. My words remind me of what he said. He must be thinking the same thing because his eyes look sadly down on me.

  “You’re a strong person, Dani. I hope you know that.”

  His words mean a lot, but I shake my head. “I’m really not.”

  “Believe me, you are.” He presses his lips tenderly to my forehead. “I need to go,” he whispers in a pained voice.

  “I know.”

  But I hold him and he holds me and neither of us lets go.

  The opening and closing of the door hours later rouses me from a deep nap on the couch. Buried beneath a pile of blankets I sit up, rubbing my tired eyes.

  “Hey,” I croak in a sleep-filled voice. “What time is it?”

  “Eight,” he grumbles, his fingers making quick work on the buttons of his pea coat. “The boss forced me to stay later for having to leave.”