by Vera Hollins
“I’m afraid this isn’t real,” he said under his breath, revealing he felt exactly the same way. He grazed my lips with his fingertips. It tickled, but it also brought me pleasure. “I...” He squeezed my hand that was glued to his chest. “I’m so afraid all of this is just a lie. An illusion.”
I shook my head. He dropped his hand from my face, and I already longed for it. “No, don’t say that. It’s not a lie. I’m really not going anywhere. I’m here to stay.” I glanced away, self-conscious. “That is, if you want me to stay,” I finished meekly, half-expecting him to reject me.
He let go of my hand and took a step backward. “You know... I think we should take it slow.”
I shifted my weight. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that I’m so confused right now and I have no damn clue about anything.”
Oh. I nodded. “Okay.”
He was right. We should take it slow. We had a long, bumpy road ahead of us, and it would take time to make things right between us. I was uncertain as well, waiting to see how this evening would impact us because everything was raw and fragile for both of us. We had trust issues that couldn’t be changed overnight, and we needed to work on this—whatever this was—gradually.
“I just need to think about everything,” he continued and went over to his bed. He sat down slowly, wearing a grimace. “I need time.”
He reached for the can and downed his beer. I wasn’t sure what to do. He was confused, vulnerable, and always expected someone to attack him. I feared that if I walked out of this room now, we would revert to how we used to be before I walked in, as if I never told him I loved him.
I pressed my hand against my chest. I told him I loved him.
Okay. Calm down, Sarah. Step by step.
“That’s okay. I understand because I feel the same. I don’t want us to rush into something that could hurt us. Just remember that I’m here if you need me.”
He stared at me for a long time, his unwavering eyes creating a hurricane of emotions inside of me.
“I always needed you, Sarah,” he said barely audibly. “To the point of suffocating in loneliness when you weren’t there. To the point of experiencing a fucking mental crisis if I couldn’t have just a glimpse of you, and then I would do anything just to keep my mind off the fact that I’m not able to see you. To the point of questioning my sanity. I could easily feel your touch—always imprinted on my skin. I could easily sense your scent, which was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever smelled. I know how you move and walk—I know everything—and knowing you but not having you hurts more than any pain I’ve experienced in my life, and this is what scares me shitless. So before you decide I’m not worth your time anymore, get bored of me, or betray me, think about this.”
His shocking words cut me deep—they cut everything in me—and I wanted to cry my heart out because he was suffering so much.
“Now, please leave. I really need to be alone.” He stared at the floor, looking completely lost, and I just wanted to hug him and help him feel better.
“Okay,” I said. I moved to his bed and picked up my notebook. “Thank you for being honest with me. I don’t want to leave you like this, but if you think you would feel better if I go now, I’m going.”
I observed his back, waiting for his answer, but it never came.
“I would like us to speak with Mrs. Black together,” I said, and he tensed up. “She didn’t mean anything bad, but she doesn’t realize how wrong she was. So we can clarify things with her. We can show her she was wrong. She may have flaws, but she won’t leave, Hayden. She won’t give up on you. I believe in that.”
“If believing was enough, people wouldn’t be stabbed in their backs. I’m not naive or stupid, Sarah. She treated me like I was some disease, like I was supposed to be isolated so I wouldn’t spread and hurt others. She didn’t think about me at all. She just wanted to save you from me.” He snorted and flexed his hands on his lap. “What a mother I have.”
I moved around his bed to face him, when he said, “Don’t. I’ve already told you I need to be alone. Please. You don’t have to be afraid for her. I won’t do anything.”
“No, this is not about that. I’m not afraid for her—”
“Sarah?” His eyes were resolute. “Leave. If you want to help me as you said, you’ll stop making things worse and leave now.”
“I... I’m sorry. I understand.”
I really did. I couldn’t expect him to trust me and let me help him all too easily. It would take much more... Much, much more.
Yet this didn’t lessen my pain. I closed the door of his room and glanced at Kayden’s door, yearning to end our loneliness and make everything better.
Chapter 18
“I’m pained, losing my soul,
until darkness swallows me whole.”
I THOUGHT ABOUT THESE words many times over since last night. Their devastating meaning struck me to the core. I couldn’t sleep, so I tossed and turned for most of the night, which barely left me with a few hours of sleep before I had to get ready for school. I hauled myself around the room as I got dressed because I was too exhausted, reflecting on everything that happened in his room.
It shattered me that he thought he was losing his soul. I felt useless because I didn’t know how to help him. I glanced at his poem on my wall and read it again, pain creeping deeper into me when I thought about what he told me before I left his room.
He always needed me. Suffocating in loneliness... My touch imprinted on his skin... My scent...
I couldn’t even imagine such intensity of emotions. That was something beyond my understanding or ability to feel, and I just wanted to do anything for him that would prove to him I loved him. I didn’t want to hurt him.
Then again, I made such a stupid mistake when I mentioned his therapy, and I was furious with myself. I hadn’t been thinking at all. That wasn’t how he was supposed to learn I knew about his condition. I was worried about him, imagining what he could be going through now that he knew what his own mother had hidden from him.
I went to my desk to put my books and notebooks into my backpack. If only I could text him and see how he was doing, but I didn’t know where we stood today. I was even more confused than before.
My phone vibrated on my desk. My heart accelerated when I noticed a message from an unknown number...
Brad? No, it couldn’t be.
I held my breath as I opened the text.
“I’m driving you to school. Get ready in ten.”
What? I had to read this again to confirm I wasn’t hallucinating.
I scurried to the window, not sure what I expected to see, and froze the moment I looked through it. There he was, looking at me through his window with his phone in his hand.
I blushed so hard I felt hot all over. Hayden’s face was serious as we looked at each other, and I felt high on him. I couldn’t look away, wondering if I was dreaming right or not.
He typed something on his phone, and shortly after, my LG vibrated. I opened his text.
“Will you stare at me all day? Move your ass.”
What the...? I snapped my gaze up to look at him, frowning, but he was already gone. Ugh. He was such a...
I erupted into laughter. This morning just got way better. He’ll drive me to school.
And on top of that, we had first period together. As I saved his number, I focused on the crack on my screen, trying to make something out of all these confusing feelings. I was afraid to step out of my room and realize this wasn’t real. I needed this to be real. I needed this to work.
I grabbed my backpack and rushed out of my room. I didn’t have much of an appetite, so I just grabbed a granola bar. My mother was still sleeping, and even in her sleep, she looked distressed. There was no sign of Brad since yesterday morning, but I was on tenterhooks nevertheless. Where was he now?
I slid on my jacket and left with a slight bounce in my step, chasing these negative thoughts away. Hayden was already wait
ing for me in his car, and flutters congregated in my stomach as I walked over.
Hayden is driving me to school. I’ll get close to him again. Calm down.
Mrs. Black’s car wasn’t in the driveway. I wanted to know if they argued or not, but I was afraid to hear the answer. A gust of the wind enveloped me, sending the leaves from a nearby tree into a whirlwind around me.
Just as I halted and reached for the passenger’s door, he reversed and stopped a few feet away from me. What was he doing?
“Hayden!” I frowned at him. He started laughing, his face gleaming out of pure joy for a precious second before he winced and grimaced in pain.
I sighed, miffed but unmistakably happy. He’d been laughing. That had been true joy on his face. This was the first time he laughed like that because of me. The first time ever.
I moved to the car and was about to open the door, but he reversed again. I put my hands on my hips and glared at him. “Stop already!”
The sky was cloudy, and it looked like it was going to rain. The low temperature made my nose, hands, and cheeks burn, so waiting for him to decide he had enough fun on my account wasn’t pleasant in the least.
He raised his hands in the air in a gesture of surrender. I heaved another sigh. I hoped he had enough of this.
I stopped next to his car and gave him a wary look. He had a huge grin on his face, and he shrugged his shoulder like he wanted to say “Try and see what would happen.”
I opened the door. “You’re such a kid.” I returned his amused stare. At least he wasn’t moping. I searched his face for any signs of inner distress, but I didn’t find any. His eyes glimmered joyously, which was something so unusual for him, and my pulse rose to a crescendo.
“And you’re such a grandma. Now stop staring at me and get in already.”
“Hello to you too, sunshine,” I muttered and got inside, met by his scent mixed with cigarettes.
I put my backpack on the backseat and buckled up just as he pulled onto the street. He turned on the music, and the sounds of Linkin Park filled the cabin.
“So now you’ll find pleasure in making fun of me?” I said and crossed my arms over my chest.
“I’ve always found pleasure in making fun of you.”
That was true. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re this happy in the early morning.” I expected him to make a comeback, but he didn’t. He turned serious, and he just stared ahead, paying full attention to the road. Did I say something wrong? Was he really in a good mood? “How are you feeling?”
“Peachy.”
I looked carefully at each line of his face. His face was bruised badly, and he looked like he didn’t sleep at all last night.
“How are your ribs today? Do they hurt a lot?”
“They don’t hurt when I’m not moving, but they hurt like hell when I’m laughing.”
“Did you get any sleep last night?”
He glanced at me, a look of annoyance passing over his face. “What are you now? My doctor?”
I dug my fingers into my palms, my cheeks flaring. “Just someone who genuinely cares for you.”
He cast me another glance, but this time his eyes lingered on me, need and insecurity clashing together in his gaze. I’d almost assumed we would drift apart with how our conversation ended last night, but this morning, it seemed like he changed his mind. What happened?
I wanted to do anything to be closer to him, but I didn’t dare. I didn’t dare put a hand on him, since I could still sense that barrier between us. I wanted to ask him questions, aware that the answers could be ugly, but if I wanted us to work, I needed to trust him.
I also needed to trust myself that I wouldn’t run away when it became tough. I’d told him I was here to stay, but there was a tiny part of me that was afraid, and it plagued me with poisonous thoughts. It told me we were bound to fail and I was in for a big disappointment, which would make me flee eventually. I couldn’t let that happen, especially because it would crush Hayden completely. His trust was already fragile enough, so I didn’t want to start something I wasn’t completely ready for.
He took a cigarette out of the pack in the center console and put it in his mouth without taking his eyes off the road. He lit it and exhaled a ring of smoke, transferring the cigarette to his left hand.
Did he really need to smoke now? As much as I needed fresh air, it was too cold, so I didn’t want to open the window.
“How can you live with cigarette smoke? I can’t stand it.”
“How can you live with your farts?”
I whipped my head at him, flushing. “Excuse me?”
He rolled his eyes. “The point is that you can live with it because you can get used to anything.”
I just looked at him, unable to think of anything appropriate to say. He took a drag and glanced at me. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I’m just trying to figure you out.”
He smirked. “That’s impossible.”
“Why?”
He stopped at a red light. “Because even I can’t figure myself out.”
Oh. I looked ahead, my heart dropping.
He reached out with his hand and touched my hair. I inhaled sharply, and my whole body tensed because of his sudden touch. When he pulled his hand away, he removed something from my hair.
“You had a leaf in your hair.” He held it out for me to see it.
My breath grew uneven when I took it, connecting my hand with his briefly, but before I could draw my hand away, he grabbed it and held it in his. The leaf fell on my lap.
His eyes and hand kept me captive, and I could hardly breathe. I felt a fluttery sensation in the pit of my stomach, and it grew stronger with each second our hands remained connected. I was in a whirl, drinking in the feeling of his hand against mine.
The traffic light changed, and he released my hand to change gears, shifting his attention back to the road. I curled my fingers, my skin tingling everywhere he’d touched. My body raged for more.
“About last night...,” he started tentatively and took another drag of his cigarette.
“What about it?”
He flicked his ash into the car ashtray and met my gaze. “I was thinking about what you asked me. If I felt anything when you fell down the stairs.”
I grew numb. For a second, I thought I’d heard him wrong. I didn’t expect this at all. “Are you going to tell me now?”
He clenched the steering wheel. He looked conflicted, like he wanted to say something he wasn’t sure he should say. “Yes. I... Fuck. I hate this.”
“Hate what?”
“Honesty.”
“Honesty?”
“Yes.” His neck muscles grew taut. “This is something they teach me in therapy. They tell me to be honest—to myself and others. It supposedly improves my interpersonal skills.” He changed gears fast, his grip on the stick shift tightening. “So I need to give you some shit about how I really felt.”
It troubled me to see him this way. I could understand how vulnerable he felt, and even though I needed to know the truth—I deserved to know the truth—I knew how hard it was for him to come out and say it.
“You don’t have to tell me if it makes you feel like this.”
He stubbed out his barely smoked cigarette. “It’s obviously important for you to know, so I might as well say it and be done with it... Fuck. This is going to be a long story.” He inhaled a long breath and exhaled it slowly. “Kayden and I were never close. We didn’t even understand each other, which is hilarious because we were like supposed to as twins.”
I twisted my hands nervously in my lap. It started raining, and I watched the rain drops splatter the windshield as I waited for him to continue. He switched on the windshield wipers.
“There were times when I hated him more than anything in my life, and I wanted to hurt him for making me feel like shit. He was always the one everyone admired and praised, and I was sick of hearing all of it over and over again. But there were also mome
nts when I loved him more than I’ll ever love myself, and I never showed that to him. He never knew.” He tightened his grip on the shift stick. “He will never know,” he said in a raspy whisper.
I desperately wanted to hold his hand, deeply touched. Forgetting all about insecurity and fear, I covered his hand that was on the gear stick. He stilled and glanced at my hand, as if I took him by surprise, and my nervousness grew while I waited for his reaction. Would he push me away? Would this annoy him?
He didn’t do anything, returning his eyes on the road, and I felt his hand relaxing underneath mine.
“Hayden, I’m sure he knew that. The way he always talked about you... He loved you so much. I know you had many misunderstandings and fights, but he always defended you. He always believed in you.”
His face showed crushing sadness. This was something that was killing him from the inside, and I wasn’t sure if he felt any better after all this time.
“I didn’t know back then... But now I know.” He turned his head and pointed at his scar. The despair in his eyes was too much. “It took his life for me to finally get it.” My chest split open. “He was such an idiot. He was like a saint or something, always good, no matter what...”
The wound in my chest grew bigger. Kayden was good until the very last moment of his life, when he sacrificed himself for Hayden, and it hurt so much to think about a person filled with goodness, dreams, and joy, only to die in that way...
“He was always good, even at the cost of his life.” His voice came out as a broken whisper. “Even to save someone who wasn’t worth saving.”
My heart lurched, and I squeezed his hand. “No, don’t say that. Don’t ever say that, Hayden. You are worth so much. Much more than you think.”
He didn’t look at me, his expression telling me he didn’t believe my words. I thought about what he’d told me in the hospital. He said he didn’t deserve others risking their life for him, and I could only imagine the amount of guilt he carried.
“He was worth much more than me,” he let out quietly, each syllable dripping with self-loathing. “And in the end, he paid the price.”