“Why do you live with them, anyway?” I asked and let my fork clack against the plate.
"My parents hate life but hate me a little bit more. Got out of school one day, and my dear old mom had packed my crap and left it at the bus stop. Said I would never be worth anything. I was only eleven. Myles’s mom felt pity for me and let me crash on the living room couch. Then one day, she moved me into the spare bedroom, and I have graced them with myself ever since."
I lay my head over onto his shoulder, trying to show that I understood and cared.
“Come on, Coraline purchased us a used Atari last week.” His hand reached toward my plate again. I swatted at it before he could steal any more food and reluctantly climbed off the barstool. Knowing he would be my only distraction from pining over Myles all day.
I enjoyed spending time with Sawyer anyway. I noticed he was smiling to himself, humming, I assumed, one of the newer tunes he was working on. “You’re happy today,” I stated.
“I can’t be happy you’re spending some time with me?” he asked, winking playfully. “Or do you only like the brooding artist type?”
“Brooding artist type?”
“Myles is the definition of the brooding artist type.” He clutched my hand. “But he is my best friend, so stop flirting with us both.”
I rolled my eyes and groaned. Sawyer grinned and led me through the back door of the trailer house he shared with Myles and his mom. I followed happily.
I sat on the couch. Sawyer plopped down onto the floor by my feet and leaned against my legs. He tossed a controller in my direction and went into a play by play about working the controls. All while causing a blob with a big mouth to eat pellets and chase or avoid generic ghosts. It was my first video game other than pong. I sucked at it but didn’t care because I hadn’t laughed that much in months. Where Myles was intense and thoughtful, Sawyer was light-hearted and carefree. He had finished cracking another joke about my lack of skills when the room became thick with tension. I hadn’t even seen Myles come in.
“See I wasn’t missed today. But why should you miss me when you have each other,” Myles said as he slammed the backdoor shut and stormed to the back of the house. I tossed the video controller onto the couch and stood. “Myles,” I started to say when Myles waved his hand in the air, then closed his eyes and clenched his jaw.
“Get over yourself. I didn’t miss y’all either,” he added.
Sawyer guided me back onto the couch. “He gets like this when he spends time with his dad. Myles acts like he has it all together, but his life is harder than we realize. He missed you. You are the one person he always misses when you are away from him.”
I bit my lip and glanced over at the black and white console television.
We played three more games of PACMAN, and Myles never made a reappearance. “I need to go.” I had to get out of there before the tears started and betrayed my entirely crafted, I could not care less attitude.
Upon entering my trailer, I grabbed the notebook out of my backpack. Usually, I couldn’t wait to write my thoughts down. The idea of my recent memories seemed to confuse me more. I threw the notebook across my bedroom and nosedived onto the bed and cried for the hundredth time. Why did I even try?
Suddenly, there was a scratching noise on my window, then a knock. I bounced up, scared, before spotting Myles opening my window.
Warm, humid air smacked me across the face as air gushed through the open window. “Myles, what are you doing here?” I asked through the tears blinding me.
“I wanted to see you.” He cocked his leg up and climbed into my room.
What was he doing?
“Myles, my Granny!” I whispered, needing to push him back toward the window, but I physically couldn’t seem to muster the movement to do so.
“I just wanted to see you. I’ll be quiet.” He wrapped his arms around me tightly and pulled me against his chest.
He didn’t ask why I had been crying. He held me. It felt nice, and the tears came back with a vengeance.
I gripped his shirt, angry at myself for crying in the first place, but I couldn’t stop.
I swiped at my nose with the back of my hand and looked up at Myles, seeing tears in his eyes too.
My chin quivered as I pulled back to look at him. “Are you okay?”
He sighed and rocked me gently. “Now that I am with you, I am,” he whispered back, still hugging me tightly. “You enjoyed playing games with Sawyer today. How about we play a game?” he asked, sounding strangely amused.
I shifted my eyes and made a humph sound, imagining the game he had in mind. Myles bent his head down and touched his soft lips to mine. I pressed myself against him, needing comfort.
“You need to go. Granny will freak if she catches you here,” I attempted to push him, trying to get him off my bed.
He wiped a tear off my cheek as he shook his head. “Stop crying first.”
His arms tightened as he guided me to lie down on my bed beside him. It was nice. The firm way he held me made me feel safe and cared about. I scooted closer to him, pressing my whole body against his as I sobbed on his chest. “When you promised me a show. I didn’t know you meant a drama.”
I didn’t answer, just laid there until I fell asleep only to wake up alone.
I needed a bath badly.
I soaked in the tub until my skin had wrinkled. Water was a luxury I didn’t take for granted. Having had the utilities cut off numerous times taught me the privilege of enjoying the simple pleasures in this world.
I kicked the tub, ramming my toe into the faucet. “Can I not catch a break?” I whispered to myself and God’s ear.
Pulling the stopper out of the drain, I thought about the show I promised Myles. That should get my mind off the bad. And maybe, I would be awarded another hug. I had honestly needed a hug when he climbed through my window; that was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me.
I raced to the bedroom, thankful that my Granny was a heavy sleeper, and raised the blinds on the window. As I looked out over the yard, Myles was sitting on his back porch steps, watching my grandparent’s trailer house.
I removed the turban from my head and shook my hair, squeezing the excess water out of it.
Wearing only a towel, I walked towards the window as sexy as I could. However, I didn’t know what walking sexy entailed. I was sort of naïve in the sexy department.
I stopped and stood in front of the window while Myles looked over at me with the brashest of smiles. I could hear my heart racing behind my ribcage.
My entire body blushed as Ms. Coraline walked out and had a seat beside Myles. I slapped the blinds closed and fell back on the bed, thanking the good Lord, I didn’t just make a fool of myself.
Chapter 5
M yles had sensed what a child I still was because he had been a no show since my little immature attempt at erotic dancing. After a week, I had cried into my pillow enough and couldn’t handle the nerves any longer. I didn’t even know if I was still crying for my mom or for the way Myles had treated me. So, I watched until after his mother had left for work and saw Sawyer sneak out with a different girl from the night before.
I picked up a tin of Granny’s cookies and raced to Myles’s front door.
Weak, I know, but I felt alive when he turned his attention to me.
My hand trembled at the thought of him slamming the door in my face. It was close to midnight. I knocked again, this time lightly.
“Coming.” I heard him bellow in the distance.
The door flew open, and I stood there as if I was some uneducated buffoon. He rubbed his eyes and frown.
“I’ll leave if you want me to,” I said and bit down on the corner of my bottom lip.
His stunning smile appeared and demanded my undivided attention. “Nah, just be warned if you’re boring, I might go to sleep on you.”
My chest tightened as I laughed and told my heart to calm down. I was terrified, physically, emotionally, and mostly,
mentally.
“I saw Sawyer leaving with some boy toy and thought you might like some company.” The beating of my heart relaxed a bit.
He scratched his fingers through his hair. “Sawyer does love the women.”
“Sawyer loves Sawyer. In less, he has changed a lot. I find it impossible for him to love any woman for more than one night.”
“Me either,” Myles said and stepped aside for me to come in, still unsure why I was even there. But loving the fact I was. Selfishly, I loved it a little too much. Myles deserved more. He didn’t deserve damaged goods.
He combed his fingers through his hair. It had grown longer and curled around his shoulder. Three years ago, it had been long enough to tuck behind his ears, but it hadn’t been anywhere near the length he wore it now.
He definitely had that rocker look going. Maybe, a young and hotter Nikki Sixx.
I held the sack up I had been hiding behind my back and shrugged. “I remembered how much you loved my Granny’s butter cookies.”
“You remember that?” he asked, then pointed to the kitchen.
I eased past him and set the sacks on the counter. “How can I forget. You ate your body weight in them the last time I was down.”
He followed me to the kitchen and pulled a stool up to the bar.
I begin removing two tins from the bag. “You didn’t think I was baking them?”
He picked up a wadded-up paper-towel off the bar and threw it at me. “Hell, I hope not. I like my food edible?” A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, and he broke out in laughter, a full-body laugh where his shoulders move with each sound.
The look in his eyes was downright mischievous but just sultry enough that it caused my heart to speed up.
He was ecstatic. It was obvious he wanted me around.
I really, seriously liked that he wanted me around. I liked it a helluva of a lot. And I shouldn’t have.
Myles walked over to the fridge and pulled out two cans of pop. “Here,” he said, then tossed me one.
“No milk?”
Myles smirked. “Sawyer left it out when he was making a bowl of cereal.”
“Why has your mom kept him around all these years?”
“Because she’s mom, and no one loves like Coraline O’Conner.”
Myles tucked the tin of cookies under his upper arm then offered me his elbow. I hesitated before I slipped my hand inside his bent arm.
“Kicking me out already?” I asked as he led me into the living room.
“Taking you to the swing set. I didn’t get to finish the last time we were there. I wanted to cop a feel.”
“Oh,” I said and tensed.
“Relax, but you can touch anything you find appealing.” He laughed nervously. “I thought we could watch a movie. Mom picked up a copy of The Shining the other day. Can you believe it was in the clearance bin?”
I didn’t know what he was doing to me, but every time I looked at him, I couldn’t stop smiling—an unfamiliar reaction.
He popped the VHS into the VCR before falling back onto the sofa next to me.
“I’m really sorry about your mom. But I’m glad you’re here.”
He didn’t say anything else, and neither did I. We just sat there holding hands and watching the craziest movie ever made.
When the credits started to play, Myles stood up and held out his hand for me to take.
I frowned.
“You better get home before your grandmother finds out you’re missing and tries to castrate me.”
I hadn’t thought about her waking up.
Myles had short-circuited any reasoning I might have possessed previously.
His fingers never left mine as he walked me to the front door. The only way to explain it was to say it was awfully close to heaven —holding hands with Myles O’Conner. The guy who I gave my heart to at twelve. The guy who had given me my first and best kiss.
I turned to tell him goodbye, but he silenced me with the pad of his thumb as he stroked my bottom lip. My heartfelt like it was about to explode out of my chest and go crashing into his. He leaned in until his lips scraped over mine. His lips were even softer than I’d remembered.
Mint and Listerine
He must have cleaned his teeth right before he went to bed. He smelled and tasted delicious. I was aware of the sensation of stubble around the edge of his mouth. Still, it was his lips, those soft, plump lips brushing against mine, that overrode any memory of our first kiss.
I skipped, yes, skipped, back to my grandparents’ trailer, but before I climbed into my bedroom window, I peeked back at Myles’s house. He was looking out an open window. I yanked up the t-shirt I was wearing, exposing I didn’t have on a bra before I scrabbled in the window and collapsed on the bed.
How was that for a show, Myles O’Conner?
Everything changed faster than I could keep up with. Except at bedtime, I never left Myles’s side. When the band rehearsed, he kissed me every time they took ten. After practice, Myles never stopped paying attention to me, and I never stopped smiling when I was with him. Nor did I stop crying when I was alone in my room.
Damn you, mom. Will you always affect my happiness?
Neither one of us said we were in a relationship. We didn’t have to. Everyone understood it. The fact that we couldn’t keep our hands off each other made it perfectly clear to everyone that something was going on between us.
However, we didn’t expect it to prompt my Granny and his mom to have a sit down with us and give us the dreaded talk—mortifying us both.
Myles let them speak and rattle on about morals and not wanting grandchildren in the near future. The thought of ever having kids made me want to barf. There was nothing wrong with kids, but my upbringing didn’t prepare me for motherhood. My mother had me despising the role, actually.
I, however, about slipped off the couch when Granny informed us of the fact that once a person starts making love, it’s almost impossible to stop. Saying we were too young to cross the invisible line of innocence.
Myles cleared his throat before saying, “I understand. What I feel when I’m around Em scares me too. But she has been through enough, and I won’t be the guy who adds anymore hurt in her life, but I will kiss her a lot, so get used to it.” He took my hand that he was holding and kissed the back of it. That was the moment when I was positive. My heart would always belong to Myles O’Conner.
Chapter 6
T he nightmares had returned with a vengeance, causing another night of tossing and turning. The memories and pain had me waking up screaming in a cold sweat, my brain pounding against my skull. My mother’s face flashed behind my eyes. My body snapped upright in bed, reminding me my mother was gone, and I no longer lived in that dump of unpaid bills and a revolving door of assholes.
I groaned and rolled my stiff body out of bed, stretching my arms over my head, then glanced out the window—the window that faced Myles’s bedroom.
A dark figure moved behind his curtain. My fingers started to tingle. I flexed my fingers to release the tension in them. Myles had been to his dad and wasn’t due to be back for another week.
My heart palpitated at the sight of Myles’s blinds lifting and the light spilling out. My stomach flip-flopped when I narrowed my eyes as Myles raised his window. I could barely make out his face, but I knew when he noticed me. His hand moved to wave, and he seemed to be watching me. He motioned for me to come over. I slipped on my sneakers and thank God Granny was a deep sleeper.
I found Myles already sitting on top of the picnic table and gazing up at the stars with a strange expression on his face.
I sat down beside him. He moved so close to me that I could see the little flecks of blue in his eyes as he pulled me in for a hug. Myles’s leg gently brushed against mine, and that simple connection made my heart drum in rhythm to one of his songs. I loved Myles’s hugs and how he always held me so tight.
He was usually quiet, but it wasn’t awkward, more relaxing.
&nb
sp; His eyes landed on my mouth as I drug my bottom lip through my teeth. Then Myles laced his fingers with mine before placing his other hand against my cheek. Closing my eyes, I gasped softly as his fingertips trailed across my skin. Those stupid butterflies erupted in my stomach.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said and ran his hand over my hair, pushing it off my forehead before giving me his lost puppy dog look.
“Me too, but I thought you were staying the entire month with your dad?”
“Plans change. Close your eyes because I need to kiss you now.”
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, again waiting for his lips. He slid his hand through my hair before cupping the back of his neck. I pulled him closer as his sweet, warm lips gently touched mine. The faint hint of mint met my tongue “Awe,” I whimpered, savoring the way his mouth moved against mine.
Myles drew back, but I refused to open my eyes, afraid that it would all be a dream.
“Look at me,” he whispered. I obeyed. Myles was still there, smiling a beautiful boyish grin down at me. He really was the poster child for an 80s rock star—the hair, piercing eyes, and the ability to spin any words into a lyrical poem.
“Your mom how long was she, was she always ... sick?” he asked.
Sick? Do you mean a junkie?
“I guess. Granny said she was a different person before my dad left her.” I trailed off in my thoughts and stared up at the stars.
“And your dad?”
“I don’t know. He left when I was two. But if he was anything like my mom, I’m glad he wasn’t in my life. No dad is better than a junkie dad.”
Myles threaded his fingers with mine again. “I’m really sorry, Em.”
His eyes held the perfect combination of concern and need. The unexpected tender notion set me off, and the tears started pelting my face. He hesitated before pulling me onto his chest. He lightly rested his cheek on my head. It was comforting but scary at the same time.
“I understand. I wish I never met my dead-beat of a dad. But we found each other, and they can’t take that away from us.”
Her First, His Last Page 3
