Emerge into Forever

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Emerge into Forever Page 17

by Andrea Michelle


  “Come on. You need to be in bed,” I tell her as I guide her back to her room. She climbs into her bed and I get her covered up. She’s drunk on cough medicine and needs to not fight the side effects, but let them knock her out so she can feel better.

  She thanks me, but doesn’t relent. “I’m serious, Riley. I don’t want Jocelyn to change anything for you and Josh. People will understand, she will too one day when we explain it to her. I know y’all belong together. He’s the one. Please, forgive me,” she pleads as her eyes flutter shut.

  I wish I had it in me to confide everything in her, tell her that it’s not entirely Jocelyn that changed everything between Josh and I. That’s it’s me and my damn wall that I keep up high. It’s Josh, his insecurity and football. It’s Dean and everything he did to hurt me. It’s more than this house and all of its ghosts. I hate that she feels so guilty. She didn’t mean for it to happen this way. I understand that now. Sometimes things just happen. She told me that once and she was right.

  I kiss her forehead that is extremely hot to the touch. “I forgive you, Mom. Get some sleep,” I tell her. She’s already fallen under, though, and never hears my words. I turn her lights off and shut her door on my way out. I take one last peek at Jocelyn to ensure she is still sleeping soundly and make my way to my old room—the place where so many memories with my best friend were made.

  I stand in the doorway and submerge myself in them. I can hear his laughter, his voice as different conversations we’ve had in here surround me. I picture us on the bed as he held me, kissed me, touched me and made me feel beyond beautiful. He made me feel everything.

  I look to the window where he climbed in so many nights to just cuddle with me because he said he slept better with his arms around me. I understood it. I no longer sleep well without him. All the signs were there, that he was always more than just my best friend. I just ignored them out of fear. Had I not ignored them, had I let myself feel them, admit them, then he would have been mine. Dean would have never been in my life to the extent I let him be. The dominos wouldn’t have fallen with such loud noise.

  Noise I don’t want to hear anymore. I shut it off, looking to my dresser where I first gave him pleasure. Those sounds permeate to the deepest part of me.

  Firsts—so many firsts with him. There could never be anyone else. All of the memories of him…here in my room…there on my bed, near my dresser where I took him in my mouth. Oh, the sounds he made. I can hear them now, see him—feel him. I crave him. I shut my door and rest my back against it. What am I going to do?

  I notice a t-shirt of his on my dresser that he left and reach over to bring it to my nose. His smell. I get drunk on it.

  On my closet door is a full-length mirror, one I’m standing in front of now picturing him with me. It’s so real, so visible, only if it were tangible. I wish for it and let the fantasy play out. Needing it, needing him. I inhale the scent of him on his shirt. Shutting my eyes, it falls to the floor when I sense him near me.

  He stands behind me resting his head on my shoulder, meeting my fluttering eyes in the mirror. “You’re so beautiful,” he says.

  I bite my lip, “Am I?” I ask breathlessly.

  He nods, “Do I need to show you?” he asks.

  My eyes speak for me, screaming, “Yes.”

  He brushes the hair off of my shoulder and begins trailing kisses along my neck. “Lift your hands,” he demands. I obey. His eyes darken as he slowly—too slowly—removes my shirt. He admires my skin in the mirror, trailing his index finger down my arms causing goose bumps to race. He continues the feather light trails down my ribs, causing me to shiver. He flattens his palm on my stomach and my arms fall around his neck as my back arches into his gentle caress.

  My eyes shut and he whispers in my ear, “Open them. Look at how beautiful you are to me.”

  He’s kissing my neck, behind my ear, licking and tasting me. His hands are gliding down to my jeans where he, with perfect pace, now unbuttons and unzips them. I step out and stare at myself in the mirror, standing there in my matching black number he loved on me. Seeing what he see’s. Someone beautiful. Someone worthy of love. His love.

  I lock eyes with his in the mirror knowing this isn’t real. He’s not really here with me, but if he were then this would feel just perfect. I let him be real in this moment because I need to feel it. “Let me love you again,” he says softly into my ear.

  “Okay,” I whisper.

  I let him carry me to my bed and love the way my sheets feel cool on my bare skin. He’s on top of me, keeping his weight off of me with his hands. His eyes are tracing me like an artist would to draw on a canvas. Then he’s on me. Kissing me, feeling me. My hands are in his hair. Wanting more of him, so much more. He kisses his way down my stomach. Further down.

  “I can smell you, how much you want me. So sweet,” he says, inhaling me. He lies down beside me and takes my hand in his.

  “What are you doing?” I ask in a soft voice. Touch me. Taste me, please.

  “Showing you.” He guides my hand with his inside of my panties. My legs fall open wanting his touch, needing it desperately. “Feel that, how wet you are?” he asks.

  “It’s for you,” I whisper.

  I moan as he teaches me where to touch and how it feels so good when I do. I watch his face as he watches me touch myself. I like the way he breathes, the way he bites his lip and how his eyes dilate when he finds pleasure with me. “Let go. You need my touch to remind you of how good it feels. Sweet touches. Such sweet touches.” He pushes my hand and together we play. We play until all of my senses are heightened, my body begins to quiver, my legs jerk and then he kisses me. “Beautiful,” he says.

  Then he leaves me and what I’ve done crashes into my reality. I cover my face and cry. This time I’m not sad because something bad has happened. I’m sad because I remember how beautiful it was. How sweet it is with him. How much I want and need him. Except now I’m nervous for our sister and if it’s something either of us should want or need anymore. I don’t want to hurt her. But living without him is hurting me.

  CHAPTER 14

  Anticipation is a cruel bitch. She makes you wait and wait some more, not knowing if the outcome will be the one you desire.

  She told me she loved me last night. I know it was done spontaneously and without thinking. She might not have even meant it in the context she said it in, but I believe she did. She’s not as distant. If anything she seems to be waiting on my calls, like she depends on them. Her voice is softer and her sighs are more contented.

  But I did something that might have taken that progress and shoved it out the door and let it blow away in the wind. I spoke from my heart, I sang from my heart and I told her what I should have said months ago. I worked my shift at the bar, which consisted of playing a set and working the crowd. I made sure I avoided Natalie at all cost, which is something I should have done from the start. I called Riley on my way home, she didn’t answer. I text her and she didn’t reply.

  I did get another text, though. A picture from my sister and it made my heart ache in a different way. It made me extremely homesick, which I already was because of Riley. Now, though…now I miss my family. I’m missing everything. Will jellybean even know me at all?

  Jo Jo: LOOK WHO I’M BABYSITTING. SO FREAKING CUTE. SHE LOOKS LIKE YOU.

  I guess she kind of did. She is half Parker after all. I never put much thought into what kind of dad I would be when I grew up, or even if I wanted to be one. However, when Joey sent me the picture of our dad holding jellybean it’s all I thought about. Truth is I’ve been thinking about it ever since I saw Riley holding her, which is strange. She’s our sister. Ours. Won’t it be weird for her? But see, when I picture it—my future—I picture it with, Riley. That has to mean something.

  My mind is so preoccupied with everything that I'm oblivious to Collin talking to me.

  "Man, have you heard a thing I've said?" he asks.

  No, I'm thinking about knock
ing up Riley, which means I'm thinking about sex now, and I need to stop this train of thought because she is in no way heading in that direction with me again...not so soon. Not at all since we are just friends. FUCK!

  "Sorry, C. My mind is somewhere else today," I explain.

  He snorts, "No shit. Your head is back in Texas, along with your heart."

  I smirk, "Awww...so sentimental. What exactly is in Texas for you then? Your heart, or an occasional piece of ass?" I know better and by the way his mouth sets in a straight line and his shoulder square, I know what is back in Texas for him even if he won't admit it to himself. He told me he’s single now, but I know he still wants Emily.

  "Funny asshole. I'm hitting the showers," and with that he leaves without answering the question.

  I leave the weights and head to the bag where I take out all of my aggression one punch at a time.

  Why hasn’t she called me back? What does that mean? Did I screw up again? Was it too much too soon?

  I'm walking up the hall toward my dorm room, ready to just crash and call it a day. The realization that Riley hasn't called me back, or returned my text fills me with a sense of dread. I'm not sure if she viewed my video, or how she would take it when and if she did. It could piss her off. It might have. The entire day has gone by and my head is spinning in a thousand different directions, none of which makes me any less paranoid.

  I'm so freaking bipolar, with my feelings all over the place these past few months. One minute I'm giving her a promise ring, which I noticed she was still wearing when I held her hand by the lake. I’m telling her I will be faithful and that her heart is safe because she is everything to me, then I'm intentionally trying to hurt her and make her jealous. Then I’m tossing hateful words at her while blaming her for something she never even did, only to turn around and apologize, beg her to forgive me and take me back. I’m sure her head is spinning just as fast as mine, if not more so.

  I didn't know that night in the bar that it was going to go down that way, though. It wasn't planned. None of the events that night were planned. From her showing up in the first place, to me leaving her there. I run my hand through my hair and feel the ripples of aggravation still in my system at everything that has happened since then. We were meant for better than this. We were meant to have everything.

  I know I wrote her that letter and I said everything that I feel. I am only, “me” with her. At least I am a better version of myself with her. I don't know why I ever wondered who I could be without her. The world isn't as beautiful without her in it. She makes it colorful, even when she see's the darkness in it. We’ve made progress since then. She’s opened up. I’ve opened up.

  Her not calling makes me worry that I have just scared her even more, pushed her further into the darkness. What the hell is wrong with me? She told me to wait, to be patient, and I just couldn’t give her that one thing. I growl at my own impatience. I've made one royal fuck up after the other. And all I want to do is lie in my bed, figure this shit out and try again.

  I get to my dorm room, touch the sock hanging on the knob that says, “Don’t enter. Getting busy.” Just great. I curse. Evidently it's nasty time for my roommate. At least he's happy. Although, the guy is a dick to that girl and I dislike him kind of a lot. I think it's because he reminds me of Dean. He's an asshole and yet his girlfriend makes excuses for him. It annoys me to no end. I picture Riley every time I see his girlfriend with eyes that hold disappointment and confusion when he's a prick. Then I watch her eyes light up when he's sweet to her. Riley used to do the same damn thing. Although, life in her eyes was always a rare occasion when he was around and usually they only sparkled like the ocean for me.

  I walk back down to the lounge area, no one is in here at the moment, and so I lie back on the couch and get comfortable. I'm contemplating sending Riley a text when my phone begins to ring. It's her.

  "Hi," I greet, feeling out of breath and like I haven't heard her voice in forever.

  "Hey," she says in an almost whisper. Just hearing her voice does something to me.

  "I was beginning to think you weren't going to call," I admit.

  She laughs, "Yeah, sorry about that. My mom’s sick and I had to babysit Jocelyn for her. I know it's late and you probably were about to go to sleep, but—," she pauses for a long time.

  "But, what?" I hear her breathing and it's like she's nervous. It's crazy how we've drifted to this right here—being nervous to talk to one another.

  "But I wanted to tell you goodnight."

  I smile, "Is that all? Just goodnight?"

  She sighs into the phone, "No, I wanted to tell you that I loved your song. I think you're crazy for posting it, and I'm sure you're being stalked by a shit ton of teen girls now. But still, it was beautiful. Your words. You. Ya know, all of it."

  "You think I'm beautiful?" I ask with amusement.

  "I'm sure we've covered what I think of you, Josh. You know what I mean."

  I would laugh except I don't know what she thinks of me anymore, not completely. I roll to my back and feel my heart begin to race. "Actually, pretty girl? I don't know what you’re thinking anymore. I know you said we should just be friends, but that kiss and the way you let me hold you—and then last night—I just…I feel like we’re hovering over this invisible line again."

  She gets really quiet—too quiet. "Riley, you there?" I ask after too many minutes go by.

  She sniffles and I know she's crying. I want to comfort her. I want to take it all away. The tears, the pain she's in, my mistakes—all of it.

  "I'm here,” she says in a soft voice.

  "Why are you crying?”

  "It’s just um, I started thinking about things. About us and I just miss you, that’s all.”

  “Shit, Riley. I miss you, too.”

  We sit in silence just breathing this moment in.

  She sighs into the phone, “What do you miss about me?” she asks.

  “Um, it’s not just one thing, baby. I miss a lot of things. Your eyes, your smile, and the way you smell. Your voice, the things you say when you speak without thinking. Jesus, it’s more like what don’t I miss. What about you? What do you miss about me?” My heart is pounding so fast in my chest. What does this conversation mean?

  Her voice drops lower. “I miss the way you hold me. I miss snuggling with you at night. I sleep better in your arms. I am better in your arms,” she says in a watery voice.

  I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do right now. Then she says, “I love you, Josh. I said it last night by accident and now I’m saying it on purpose. So, please, don’t get weird on me like you did last night. Okay?”

  Oh, God. “Okay. I know you said it. I didn’t get weird. I’m just trying to be your friend.”

  “But then you sang me that song, Josh. You put all your cards out there. That wasn’t subtle or just friendly. That was…more.”

  “Because we are more, Riley. You belong with me.” I declare.

  Her breath hitches and I picture her wiping her eyes—her beautiful blue/green eyes that are always so disappointed by those that should only ever show her love.

  "I...I don’t know what to do. I don’t know where I belong anymore. I just know my heart is always aching,” she almost whimpers. My own heart is breaking in two.

  "Please, baby don't cry," I beg. I wish I were there with her right now, so I could put my arms around her, hold her until she knows that’s where she belongs. “I wish I could hold you right now,” I admit. I'm breathing so heavy. My chest is almost heaving.

  "Josh.” She says my name in that breathy way, like she needs me, like she can’t find any other words to say because my name is all she knows.

  “I mean it. I’d give anything to be lying next to you right now. Holding you tight, kissing away your pain. Reminding you of everything we once were and can be. I just want to be with you.”

  “I want that, too. I imagined you holding me tonight. It was so real, but then you were gone.
I wish you were here,” she says.

  “God, me too. I love you, Riley. I love you so fucking much.”

  “I’m still scared, Josh,” she admits.

  “I know. I know nothing has really changed. You still need time?” Please, say no.

  She doesn’t reply right away. She gives me a little hope that I’m wrong, and she will be mine again.

  “Yes…I think.”

  She thinks? So, she isn’t so sure. Maybe, I’m breaking her. “What are you scared of, pretty girl? Is there something I can say to make you not afraid of this?”

  She sighs. “I’m afraid of a lot of things, Josh. It’s not just about us anymore. I’m nervous for Jocelyn, too.”

  “Of Jellybean? Why?”

  “Yes, of Jellybean. Because, Josh! What will she think of us? We’re her brother and sister, ya know? Won’t that confuse her if we like start kissing in front of her one day?”

  “Oh. I um…I thought about that earlier today actually.”

  “You did?”

  “I did. A little bit. But then I thought about you and that wariness went away. Because the more I thought about you, the more I know that you are it for me, Riley. I love you. I loved you before she was born and I will love you a lifetime after. You are my forever. Don’t you get that by now? We are meant to be more than this. You know it deep down. Don’t you?”

  She’s breathing fast. I can hear it through the phone. “Yes, I know it. And you’re my forever, too.”

  “Then what are we doing?”

  “Waiting.”

  Dammit. “Waiting for fucking what, Riley? If you’re waiting on perfect timing, we won’t get there. If you’re waiting for me to have all of the answers, I will fail you because I don’t have them all. I just don’t understand why you want to wait. Haven’t we lost so much time already?” I just want her to understand.

  She starts crying again. I want to scream and fight. We were there. She was mine and I fucking blew it and now we’re back to square one.

  “Josh, I…I don’t know what to say. You've gone from loving me, leaving me, hating me, to wanting me again and my head is spinning.”

 

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