by Olivia Grey
“Sorry, I just…” he hesitated, “got caught up.”
“Mhmm… How on earth did you know I’d still be waiting here? It’s been over two hours.”
“A hunch,” he smiled, reaching a hand over and peeling my glasses from my face.
I blinked, adjusting my eyes to the brightness.
“So…”
“So…” he goggled at me, making me nervous.
I loved and hated when he looked at me like that. Every emotion from the past threatened to rise in me, urged me to kiss him, to show him just how much I cared; how much I wanted him. I knew better.
“Spit it out, Axel,” I prodded, slapping a hand against his. “Was she there?”
“Of course she wasn’t there. You already knew that.”
“And…”
“I spoke with her mother.”
“And…”
“She said Jemma was in college.”
“Where?”
“Hmm…” he ran a hand through his hair, the curls lifting from his face and then falling right back in place. “I think you owe me something.”
“Owe you something,” I spat, a little too loudly.
All the attention I was trying to hide away from came shooting in my direction all at once. It’s as though these people knew my voice; like they’d watched my confession over and over, studying every tone.
“It’s her,” I heard one person say.
“Is that him?” asked another.
“I bet she’s gonna try to kill him again?”
“We should say something to her,” urged someone else.
“Let’s get out of here,” Axel settled, not oblivious to the chatter.
“Thank God,” I sighed.
“Is this what you have to deal with every day? They just talk so loud, so openly about you…”
“Yep,” I answered, sticking a five dollar bill under my half emptied cup of coffee.
52
Axel
Frances and I walked to the car. I reached for her hand and she swung it away, pretending as though it just lifted with the wind. Attention wasn’t something she was ever keen on. For the majority of our relationship, we’d spent our time hiding away, from Jemma, from the world. We were a secret and there were consequences to be dealt if we brought attention to ourselves. They were my consequences, things I’d have to deal with. But now, the tables had turned and Frances, she was the one who’d be speared without hesitation if she was seen frolicking around with me. People, they’d always have an excuse for ‘poor Axel’. He bumped his head too hard during the fall, his memory’s not back yet, the drugs they have him on is messing with his mind. She wouldn’t get even a slither of pity. They’d talk about how she’d do it again, how I needed to watch out, etc, etc, etc. If only they knew. If only they could understand that the only thing stronger than Frances’ fear of them is my love for her.
No matter who was watching, I wouldn’t think twice when it came to taking her hand. No matter who was listening, I wouldn’t be opposed to telling her I loved her. From the rooftops, from a mountain- I shout it far and loud, if only it’d make her feel better. But Frances, she needed a different kind of closure. She didn’t doubt that I loved her or that she loved me. It’s the rightness in it that posed a problem. There was everything wrong with loving a girl who tried to exempt me from life. And there was everything wrong with loving a guy who she almost killed. So, the only route to take was the one that involved making a different truth. If that failed, which it could, at least I would have tried and I would still try. I would continue to find ways to make it okay. I just wished she could see that.
“Sucks having to spend so much money on cabs,” I said as we entered her car.
“I can give you a ride whenever you want,” she offered, “as long as…”
“No. It’s okay, really. Mom will get over her paranoia and give me back my keys eventually. Plus, it’s bad but it’s not that bad. As soon as the cab driver recognizes my face, I’m in for a discount.”
“You sure know how to use your injuries.”
“Eh… You could call it that. But they’re overpriced anyways, so it’s not like they’re losing money on me shorting them a buck or two.”
“Axel,” Frances said, looking in her rearview mirror, “what did Jemma’s mom say and why are you stretching it out for so long.”
“Because the longer I take to tell you, the more you’ll want to be around me.”
She opened her mouth, as though she wanted to say something, but decided against it.
“Fine,” I continued, “she’s going to college in Georgia. Georgia State to be exact. Loves it there, according to her mom.”
“I bet she does,” Frances rolled her eyes.
“So… are you up for a trip to Georgia?”
“God, Axel.”
“This was a part of the plan. You knew that. We go wherever she takes us and we don’t stop until we have her cornered.”
“Then I guess we’re going to Georgia.”
“Great, we’ll just stop by your house so you can get some clothes. Then, we’ll make a stop at my house and off we go.”
Frances didn’t answer.
“Ugh,” I huffed. “I have a surprise for you, but I was gonna wait until later, until I had you all to myself.”
“I hate surprises,” she muttered, veering to the side of the road where she always parked her car.
“Are you ready?” I asked, once she put the car in park.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
I closed my eyes, puckered up my lips in an exaggerated fashion and moved my head toward her. I heard the moment when her breath stopped and if I wasn’t mistaken, I’m sure I heard her heard bash against her chest.
“I’m just kidding Frances. I know you’re not that into me anymore, you know, with my scars and all…”
“You know that’s not it,” she remarked, defensively.
“I’m just playing with you.” I took her by the shoulders, shook her a little. “Sooner or later, you’re gonna want to loosen up. I heard that too much tension can make you,” I leaned into her ear and lowered my voice, “constipated.”
“I. Am. Not. Constipated,” she chuckled, pulled her hand to her mouth to stop herself and then laughed.
“And that will make you shit yourself,” I giggled, “too little tension does the opposite. But you choose, constipation or diarrhea.”
“You’re an idiot, Axel,” she laughed some more. “A big, fat idiot.”
“It’s good to see you laugh,” I said, pulling her hand to my lips and finally, being able to press them against some part of her.
“Okay, so I guess now, you are ready for your surprise. And, when you see it, I know that you’re gonna have a whole bunch of odd feelings about it but just remember, it’s a big deal. What I’m about to show you is the beginning to the truth.”
Frances nodded, her smile gone but that rugged frown nowhere to be seen either.
53
Frances
Baggy shorts with huge Velcro pockets by his knees. He reached down, snapped one open and pulled out something that I’d seen before; something I’d only seen once, but something so engraved in my memory that I could never forget it.
“No,” I exhaled, shaking my head at him and then a finger. “I don’t. I can’t. This isn’t a surprise Axel. This…”
I made to open my door, but his hand was there, wrapped around my arm, stopping me. I pulled away, afraid to look at him. Afraid to look at it.
“How could you smile about that?” I asked, my vision blurry with unfallen tears. “How…”
“Worse things have happened,” he said- so nonchalantly than my skin ran cold.
“This was the beginning,” I turned to him, careful not to raise my voice. “This is how it all happened.”
He put the device back into his pocket, relaxed an elbow on the armrest and stared at me. “I don’t know how you feel, but I can imagine. And… if the circumstance were
different, I’d probably feel the same way. Please don’t take this as me being insensitive, I’m just…I’m just…out to prove the truth. That’s it. If we get sad about every stone we turn over then we’ll only be leaving a puddle behind. So, buck up, as bad as that sounds, and just trust me.”
“Okay,” I nodded, my teeth clenched so hard I could hear them grinding against each other.
Axel dug into his pocket again, set the camera in front of the both of us and flicked it on.
“We don’t have to watch the entire thing?” I asked.
“No. Just the beginning.”
I couldn’t understand: how Axel could the camera? Did Jemma have it? There’s no way, I thought to myself. This piece of evidence never made its way to court and not because Jemma wouldn’t hand it over, but because it was gone. Vanished. Lost in acres and acres of land, amongst trees and mushrooms, weeds and grass. They’d searched everywhere- as far as I’d heard.
Axel started the video, it stopped only a few seconds later. He looked at me, as though there was something I was meant to see that I didn’t.
“I don’t get it.”
“This isn’t my camera,” he said, pointing to the shiny object perched on the dashboard. “It’s not my camera. If I was the one who took the video, shouldn’t the camera belong to me?”
“But this doesn’t prove that it’s hers either.”
“Outside of the fact that I found it in her room, the video proves that it’s hers.”
He pressed a button on the camera again and the paused it almost immediately.
“See right there,” he said, pointing gleefully. “Recognize that dress?”
“It’s her!” I exclaimed.
“It’s her. She took a video before, forgot to delete it and it’s still on the damn camera. Plus, look at this,” he said, putting it to the much dreaded sex tape.
The video started.
“If I was supposed to set up the camera, why does the first shot show me walking into the room? Sure, there’s the possibility that there’d be a timer on the thing, but don’t you think I would have stayed in the room after. Look, I’m standing there, looking around the room and call me stupid, but I think I look like a guy who’s checking out his surroundings- having never been in the damn room before.”
The video played on a bit longer.
“And there,” he pointed. “Look how shocked I am that you showed up. I had no idea what was going on. And how could I? It was supposed to be a surprise.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, reaching ahead and turning the camera off. “I agree with everything you’re saying but the last part. I mean, you could have intended to take a video of Jemma and things didn’t quite turn out that way.”
“Oh come on,” he flashed his hand in frustration.
“I believe you,” I said, not wanting him to get upset. “But the video, the camera, it doesn’t have anything to do with me shooting you.”
“It’s the first step in proving that Jemma’s a liar. The first step in proving that she had a plan all along. I’m certain that the more we search, the more we’ll uncover and it might hurt learning that she was using you all along, but at least there’ll be a bright side to it once you learn that she was the one who really…”
“One step at a time,” I tapped my fingers against his hand.
“One step at a time,” he agreed.
54
Axel
Frances exited the car and returned only a few minutes later with a backpack thrown over her shoulder and discomfort glooming in her eyes. I didn’t ask what was wrong, I already knew. She was likely on a guilt trip or rather, a few guilt trips.
Number one: Being in the same place as Axel.
Number two: leaving town with Axel.
Number three: still being in love with Axel.
The list goes on and on, but the point is, all her guilt was centered on me and I couldn’t have it that way. After a few long minutes of silence, we got to my house where I instructed her to pull right up to the driveway. Hesitantly, she set her foot against the gas and permitted the car to ease forward.
“Come in,” I encouraged.
“No, she declined.”
We went back and forth a few times until, finally, she agreed to accompany me. There wasn’t a particular reason why she needed to enter my home. Maybe I just wanted to show her that nowhere in this world is stifling enough that she needed to avoid it; not even the places she’d been warned against the most.
Had my mother been home, the story would have perhaps gone a bit differently. For one, I would have spared Frances’ feelings by asking her to park the car a distance away. But, mom had work and working meant that for a few short hours I was able to have my space; roam around like an adult rather stay under her wing like a child.
“You didn’t forget to leave your parents a note, did you?” I asked Frances.
“Nope,” she answered, her lips parting marginally.
I pulled a notepad from the kitchen counter and pulled a pen out of the tray.
Hey mom,
Don’t worry, the aliens didn’t come and take me, I didn’t run away, I’m not hurt and all the other horrid things that will skyrocket your blood pressure didn’t happen. So, take a chill pill, enjoy some time to yourself and be happy that I’m out (I’m young remember?) But seriously, I’ll be back in a day or two and I probably won’t be answering my phone. Like I said, there’s no need to worry! I’ll be back in no time ready and willing to smother you in hugs and kisses. Point is, I’ll be back. I’ll be back. I’ll be back. I’ll be back.
I love you,
Axel.
Over my shoulder, Frances was reading every word I wrote, a discrete smile dimpling her cheeks. For some reason, I’d forgotten where we were, what we weren’t meant to do and I know that it was silly, considering I was writing a note to my mom and avoiding any detail that would lead her to Frances. Still, somehow I forgot that I wasn’t allowed to kiss her. And so, when I looked at her, with that dimple in her cheek and those innocent brown eyes, my face drifted closer to hers, my arms tangled in hers and I kissed her, deep and passionate. She wasn’t hesitant like she was those other times that I’d tried and I don’t know why. Maybe she’d forgotten too. Or maybe she was realizing, like I knew all along, that she didn’t have a reason to rob herself of love.
She stumbled back as I braced myself against her and when her back touched the kitchen wall, I pressed even hard. My tongue ran against hers like ice on silk, my heart pounded against hers like a thousand drums.
“I love you Frances,” I whispered into her mouth.
She didn’t return my words, she just kissed me harder, like it would be the last time she kissed me.
I shouldn’t have been strong enough to carry her but she was fragile enough for me to manage. With one swoop, I swept her off her feet, her mouth not leaving mine. Up the stairs and into my bedroom, carefully setting her down on the bed. I wanted her. I needed her. Every part of me had longed for her touch; longed to be hers.
My hand reached under her shirt and traveled over the smooth skin underneath to the point where her bra got in the way. She opened her eyes, just that once and nodded the permission I was hoping I’d get. Without pause, I peeled her shirt over her head and undid her bra in one try. She was beautiful, breathtakingly beautiful. I knew I made her nervous when I stopped but I had to take her in. Seeing her bare was like seeing the purest part of this earth, a part that only I had had the pleasure of discovering. Her hair, long brown curls dropped unrestricted and uncalculated over her breasts, her nipples pink and barely visible. I guided her hair over one shoulder and she shook her head lightly, allowing it to fall perfectly in place. With a single finger, I traced her- the tip of her chin, along her neck, her collar bone and finally, her breasts.
I glanced at her, just once. Her eyes were closed, her head tilted back as though motioning for me to take her and I did. Slowly, I pressed my lips upon her, parting them enough to give way to her nippl
e. And I sucked, lightly, dragging my teeth with each pause. My other hand ventured up, taking hold of her other breasts, teasing and taunting, massaging her breasts, twisting her nipple. She moaned, loud and hard and the harder she moaned the harder I grew.
“I want you,” she whispered.
55
Frances
I’d talked myself out of a lot of things- affection was one of them. That moment in the kitchen, it wasn’t supposed to happen but when he kissed me- just this once, I couldn’t resist. I sat, back rested on his headrest, his body in front of mine, I threw away all precautions, all hesitations. Wanting him that one time was warranted. Needing him that one time was okay. My emotions were at an all-time high, my body reveled in a whirlwind of sensations and I couldn’t ask him to stop. I didn’t want him to stop.
“I’ve missed you Frances,” he said, “I’ve missed you more than you could ever begin to imagine. These six months since I’ve been awake, you’re all I’ve thought about.”
His needing lips met mine, his tongue waved over my own sending indescribable ecstasy through my entire body.
“I’ve missed you too,” I allowed.
He reached down, tugging away my shorts and then his own. I was almost bare, except for my thong- tight around my hips and soon, that was gone too, replaced by the warmth of his breath. His tongue swiped over my center in one fluid motion and I almost unraveled, right into his mouth.
“Stop,” I said, lifting his face with the tip of my finger. “I want to feel you.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, breathless.
I was wrong. I didn’t want to feel him inside of me, I needed to feel him inside of. All the empty holes, all the lonely nights, all the pain, the torment, the self-loathing, he and only he could wipe it all away. I was fully aware, that moments of passion don’t complete eradicate months of anguish. However, for as long as it took for us to be completely entangled in each other, I’d hold on to the mental freedom of wanting and needing nothing more.
