by S D Hegyes
As Sorsha pulled away, she avoided his eyes and cleared her throat, embarrassed she’d thrown herself at him. “Sorry,” she said and cleared her throat again.
He didn’t respond for a moment. Then he shook himself and asked, “You hungry?”
She nodded. “Starving.”
14
It was way past time her father wanted her home, but Sorsha didn’t care. She wanted to spend as much time with Abaddon as possible, and she didn’t care what they did together.
“Where do you want to eat?”
“Well, what do you like?” She didn’t know where he wanted to go.
“What’s open in Hardin?”
She glanced at the time. It wasn’t as late as she thought it was, but it was still late enough she wasn’t sure what would be open and what would be closed. She told him as much.
He grinned at her. “Then let’s just drive and find out, shall we?”
They ended up eating at a fast-food restaurant when they got tired of looking for a place. As they both sat on the trunk of the car and tore into their tacos, Sorsha glanced at Abaddon and raised her taco in salute. “Thanks for the tacos.”
“Thanks for letting me teach you how to bowl.”
Her face lit up. “I had fun.”
They went on to discuss other things she hadn’t done that he had. He couldn’t seem to believe she’d never been camping.
He gestured around him. “Have you seen where you live? This would be the perfect place to go camping.”
She shook her head with a sad smile. “I live in a community that frowns upon anything not mentioned in the Bible, remember? And even some that are.” She shook her head. “It’s safe to say I haven’t done a lot of things most normally would.”
His head wobbled back and forth in disbelief. “I still can’t believe it. I get it, but it’s hard to believe.” His mouth twisted into a thoughtful expression, and he shook his head again. “Camping?” He made a clicking noise with his tongue. “What about fishing? The river’s not that far away. Surely you’ve been fishing before, right?”
“Nope. Never.”
His eyes widened. “Wow.” Then he pursed his lips and tilted his head from side-to-side. “Alright, you’re still young. I’ll give you that one. You have plenty of time to do the things that would make you cool.”
“Oh, ho ho!” She put her taco down and placed her hands on her hips. “As opposed to you, old man?”
“You keep using that phrase. I do not think it means what you think it means.” He winked at her.
“Quoting Princess Bride to me?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “Close enough. Not an exact quote, but close enough.”
She laughed at that. “What’s your favorite movie?”
“We’re going to play twenty questions now?” He chuckled and shook his head.
Sorsha gave him a playful shove. “Shut up. Sue me if I want to know more about you. I like you, alright? And when I like someone, I want to know as much as I can about them.”
Her face flushed and she turned away from him, but then she took a deep breath and looked at him again, although she wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I know this isn’t going anywhere, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want it to.”
He was silent for a long time, and she finally gained the courage to meet his gaze. He studied her, his expression thoughtful. “I like you too,” he admitted finally, a smile growing on his face. “And my favorite movie is Goldfinger. I like any James Bond movie actually.”
She frowned. “I haven’t seen that one. Or any Bond movie.”
“You haven’t?” He shook his head. “You’ve got to fix that. They’re great movies.” He shrugged one shoulder.
“I’ll trust you on that.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?” She picked up her taco and finished it with a couple quick bites.
“What’s your favorite movie?” He held up another taco, but she declined it.
“Haven’t seen many that weren’t good, healthy Christian movies to be honest. My favorite, which I haven’t seen since we moved here, is Willow, which gave me my namesake.” She gave him a sheepish grin. “I used to be obsessed with it. According to my mom, I’d watch it over and over again. Destroyed the VHS tape and the player a couple times wearing it out.”
Abaddon whistled. “Wow. A VHS player. Man, are you old.”
“Shut up!” she cried, but she laughed as she gave him a playful shove that sent him sliding off the trunk.
He spun around and planted his hands on either side of her, leaning into her face with a cryptic smile. “You love it,” he whispered.
She held her breath and her eyes widened. She could feel his breath on her mouth, and her lips parted of their own accord. All she’d have to do was lean forward a single centimeter, and she’ be kissing him.
Before she could though, he pulled away, a knowing smile on his face, and returned to his seat beside her. “Next question.”
Blinking, she said, “What?”
“Twenty questions, remember? What’s your next question?”
Her hands fluttered in her lap for a moment, as she wondered what to ask him. She blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Red.” He gestured to her, and she knew he wanted to know the same thing.
“This isn’t how the game is played. You’re supposed to ask different questions.” She chuckled.
He shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe I prefer it this way.”
“Orange.”
“Orange?” When she nodded, he tilted his head to the side in puzzlement before he glanced down at her hands, a knowing smile on his face once more. “Ah. I’ve always been partial to red, but I’m learning to like gray.” He winked at her.
She chuckled and asked, “If you had all the money in the world, where would you go?”
He grinned. “Here.”
“We’ve already established I’m well-off to begin with, so I can already go anywhere I want. But this is where I’d go because you’re here.”
What a smooth talker he was. Sorsha felt her face flush, but then she cleared her throat and leaned back with her elbows braced against the window of the car. “Me? I’d travel the world. I wouldn’t stay in any one place too long. I think I’d like traveling all the time. We should switch places. I’ll go with your cousins and you can go to the crazy cult.”
“Hard pass. Thanks for the offer though,” he replied in a sarcastic tone that made Sorsha laugh again.
They went back and forth with their questions, each one getting odder and odder, but making them laugh all the same.
She learned Abaddon liked anything with garlic, but hated lemons. He liked checkers but hated chess. He liked black and white silent films, but didn’t like documentaries. He’d splash in puddles if it meant his cousins got muddy even though he didn’t like getting mud on himself.
Abaddon was a child at heart, Sorsha discovered, prone to pranks and sarcastic jokes every now and then. He often had a serious expression on his face, but she noted he smiled at her easily.
His idea of a vacation was sitting around and doing nothing all day, but he loved driving around as well. He liked exploring and enjoyed how often he and his cousins moved around.
And when he talked about his cousins, it was apparent he cared for them a great deal. He talked about them as if they annoyed him, but always with a smile on his face, as if he enjoyed that they annoyed him so much.
In return, he learned how long she’d lived in Shaded Glade, where she’d come from, the fact that she loved steak rare with ranch dressing and macaroni and cheese. He discovered she hated collard greens and didn’t see why anyone would eat them. She told him about her preference for dogs over cats, but how she’d never been allowed to have a pet before and didn’t see herself getting one anytime soon.
“So, what do you want to be when you grow up?” He leaned back against the window and put his hands behin
d his head.
She leaned back as well, laying her head at the crook of his elbow. Soon she found herself nestled against his side as he lifted his elbow and she slid close to him. She chuckled.
“I’m already an adult,” she pointed out.
“Humor me.” He gave her a cheeky grin. “You’re planning on joining the military to escape your current life. What about long term? Have you thought about that at all?”
Sorsha hadn’t. She turned her head away with a frown and she fiddled with the zipper of his jacket, only pulled halfway up. She pulled it toward his chin, thinking about his question.
“I don’t know.”
“What about before you went to Shaded Glade? What did you want to become back then?”
“Never really thought about it.” She shrugged. “Other kids wanted to be doctors and florists and police—typical kid stuff. Me? I had no idea what I wanted to be, what I wanted to do. I always just thought I’d have time to figure out what I wanted.”
She sighed. “Even now, when I’m so close to getting away from what everyone wants me to do—which is absolutely nothing—I still don’t know what I want to do. I want to get away. I’ll figure out everything else after that.”
“Fair enough.” Abaddon turned from her and looked up at the sky.
“What about you?”
He glanced down at her. “What?”
“What do you want to be when you grow up?” She grinned at him.
He laughed. “Seems like a silly question now.”
“So?” She wanted to know anyway.
“I’m not certain.” Something told her his answer was genuine. “I technically don’t have to work, don’t have to do anything. I like traveling.”
“You could be a traveling writer or something like that.”
He scoffed at the idea. “No one would read my ramblings, and I’m not good at that kind of thing anyway. I like traveling, but I don’t go to the same places most people would. I visited the monument on a recommendation of my cousin. Nothing more. Nothing less.” Abaddon turned toward her, an apologetic smile on his face. “No regrets now,” he said. “However, it wasn’t on my list of things to do, and I don’t know if I’d have gone otherwise. She was insistent that I go, so I did.”
“She knew you were going to meet me or something?” Sorsha teased with a giggle.
“Something like that.”
For a moment, she wondered if he was joking. She couldn’t tell.
“Anyway,” he said, sitting up and drawing her with him. “It’s getting late. Ready to go home?”
She shook her head. “No, but if I must. . .” She let her words trail off with a sigh before she smiled at him again. “Thank you for today.”
His grin widened. “My pleasure.” He purred, and she couldn’t help but think he looked a bit like a cat with a saucer of cream.
She shivered, wondering how bad it would be if she were the mouse caught in his trap. Then she wondered if, maybe, she already was. The thought made her more uncomfortable than she cared to think about.
An hour later, Abaddon dropped Sorsha off where he’d first found her that morning. He wanted to take her home, but she knew that wasn’t a good idea.
Bad enough she was going to be in trouble for missing dinner after her father told her to be home now that she and Preston were engaged.
She insisted on being dropped off at the monument. “We can’t be seen together,” she told him.
He gave her a hard look as he parked. “We’re going to the fair together.”
She shook her head. “It’s not the same.”
Confused, he asked, “How is that not the same?”
“I won’t be in your car. We’ll meet up there, but it’s not like we’ll arrive together or leave together.”
She brushed her fingers against his, watching him smile as her eyes changed from gray to yellow and back again.
His smile warmed her all the way to her toes. Then she pulled away and opened the door, climbing out.
She waved to him after she closed the door, waiting for him to back the car up and turn around. He obliged and rolled his window down, leaning out to look at her.
“Is it a long walk back?”
Sorsha grinned, leaned down, and pressed her mouth to his forehead. “I’ll be alright. I promise.”
“It’s dark.”
“I know.”
“You don’t have a light.”
At that, she held up the phone he gave her. A moment after fiddling with it, she shone a light at the ground. “I do too.” She winked at him. “I’ll be fine, Abaddon. Really. I walk this trail all the time after dark, as you well know. I come to the cemetery often after dark. This is the first time I’ve been gone all day, but that’s not a big deal.” She shrugged one shoulder.
Actually, it would be a big deal, she knew, but she had known that before she’d left that morning. “I can handle my parents,” she added.
He hesitated a moment longer, studying her as if he never thought he’d see her again.
Finally, he told her, “See you at the fair, Sorsha.”
“See you then, Abaddon.” She smiled and turned away, disappearing into the dark.
15
As Sorsha slipped into the house, she wondered why there wasn’t anyone in the living room waiting to chew her out. The living room was empty, as was the kitchen.
She checked the time, and it was late enough that her parents were usually in bed. Still, she’d expected her father to be in the living room ready to yell at her about her not being at dinner.
She doubted he would have noticed she wasn’t home until then. He never went to her room unless she was in trouble.
Chewing on her lip, Sorsha debated calling out to see if anyone was home or awake.
No. That’s not a good idea.
Rather than calling out, she decided it would be better if she just made her way to her room as if it were any other normal day. It meant she’d have to sneak past her parents’ room, but she’d done that many times in the past.
She pulled off her shoes and stripped off her jacket, returning both to their proper places. Then she tip-toed down the hall to her room.
Her parents’ door was closed and the light off.
Hypocrite, she thought, rolling her eyes. Her door wasn’t allowed to be closed but theirs could be. As much as the injustice bothered her, she was glad it was closed. She did not want to know what her parents did when they were alone.
A shudder ran through her as she continued down the hall to the bedroom on the end, noting that her bedroom light was on and the door pulled to, but not closed.
When she pushed the door open, it surprised her to see her mother sitting on her bed.
The woman looked like a shell of herself. There were several worry lines in her forehead and her cheeks. Her eyes bore dark circles of fatigue and stress. Her shoulders hunched over themselves, as if she was only a moment away from curling into a ball and becoming an emotional wreck. Her hands twisted together in her lap, and Sorsha could see they were red from where she’d been keeping up the nervous tick for a while. Hours maybe.
“Mom?” she called tentatively.
Her mother’s head jerked up, tears brimming in her eyes. Then the woman launched herself at her with a cry of relief and wrapped her arms around her daughter.
“Sorsha, I thought. . . I mean, I had the worst fear that you were gone. For good.”
“Without saying goodbye?” Still, it felt good to hold her mother and be held in return. She wrapped her arms around her mother and let her cry herself out, stepping inside the room and pushing the door to its original position. Then she stood silent as her mother’s tears soaked her shoulder, stroking her hair and making soothing sounds.
She’d never thought her mother capable of such emotion, and it tore at her heart. What would happen to her mother when she left?
“You could always come with me?” Sorsha told her when she finally stopped sobbing.
&nb
sp; Her mother shook her head. “No, I couldn’t.” She sniffled. “Anyway, this is the life I’ve chosen, with your father. He can be a brute of a man, but he’s always been good to me.”
Sorsha knew. Her father may have aimed nasty looks at her mother whenever the woman defied his desires for Sorsha, but he’d never harmed her. Not emotionally or physically. He loved his wife, even if he never said it where Sorsha could hear.
It was evident in the small differences in the way he treated her versus Sorsha. Every once in a while, Sorsha would catch him as he held his wife’s hand and pressed a kiss to it with an adoring smile. It didn’t happen often, but certainly he hadn’t shown Sorsha any affection in many years. Not as far back as she could remember at least.
Stepping back, Sorsha nodded. “I understand.” She tilted her head to the side. “Will you be alright when I leave?”
Another sniffle and her mother wiped at her eyes. “Yes. It will be rough at first, but I’ll be alright.” She gave her daughter a wan smile. “Any idea when you’re leaving yet?”
Sorsha shook her head, rubbing her mother’s arms. “Not yet. Mom, I need some paperwork before I can leave, and I need you to tell me if you are able to get any of it.”
She proceeded to list off the documents she’d need.
Her mother shook her head. “If you’d asked me before your engagement, I could have been able to get them. Now? No. Your father gave all that to Andrew when the engagement was made.”
That made no sense. “Why?”
“Because he’ll need it to have your name changed once you’re married, and everyone knew you wouldn’t give it up willingly.”
“What’s he planning on doing? Having someone pretend to be me to sign my name on my new paperwork?” Sorsha teased, but when her mother didn’t answer, her eyes widened. “He is?”
Somehow, it shouldn’t have surprised her, but it did. She ran a hand over her hair and let out an exasperated breath. “Why am I surprised? That’s just like them.” She shook her head.
“Everyone knows you’re not willing to marry Preston, Sorsha, to stay in the community.”