Heat

by Elizabeth Caroline

  “Fine, whatever!” she snarled back at him. “I’ll just be at the front if you want me. Just remember that we’re your friends and you can trust us." I nodded. "Any of us.” she added quickly as she started to walk.

  “I’ll meet you guys there.” Michael said as he followed behind Emily, tapping Martin on his shoulder as he passed. Martin smiled a smile of complete relief, no doubt for having the burden of standing in the street with me lifted. He gave his usual wave and followed behind the two.

  Solomon didn't speak, I knew he was waiting for me to speak first. "Are you sure you want to miss your dinner?" I asked.

  "You already know the answer to that." He said. "I would happily miss 100 dinners with them, if it meant I got 1 with you."

  "Why, Solomon?" I said shaking my head at the thought of whether I deserved his kindness.

  "You don't know?" He asked, his eyebrows raised slightly. I shook my head.

  He sighed loudly, massaging his fingers into his brow. "I still can’t work out if you are really that clueless or if you're just putting it on, maybe competing with Emily and Stacy for the crown."

  "What?" I said, half laughing. "I'm not clueless."

  "I guess not." He sighed again and brushed my loose curl behind my ear. "I doubt you're in the mood right now but when you're feeling better you're really going to have to explain to me what exactly I am doing wrong if it isn't obvious that I would do anything for you."

  His face was still soft and pleasant, but he wasn't smiling. It wasn't a joke, or just some polite comment. He was serious. And at that moment I believed him completely and I knew that I felt the same.

  I exhaled deeply feeling as though a weight had been lifted, a real and true smile forming on my lips. He still had the same calming effect on me as he always had and even more so, somehow making me feel like the past three weeks hadn't happened. “Shall we go then?” I asked.

  “If you’re ready?” he answered.

  Considering the fact that I hadn't planned on going for dinner with Solomon that night, I was as ready as I could have been. I guess I was becoming accustomed to unexpected events as that's how things had been happening in my life at that time. I hadn't exactly planned on breaking into the facility when I woke up that morning, three weeks ago.

  Solomon stood up first, took hold of my hand and helped me up. I kept my hand in his as we walked to the restaurant, but he didn’t ask any more questions, he just talked randomly about things that had happened since I left. He also reminded me that it had been Susanne’s birthday a few days ago, which was why they had all come out tonight.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked when we were finally sitting down in what was more like a couples compartment at the back of the restaurant.

  “A little.” I lied. “I don’t have any money though.”

  “It’s fine.” He said, gesturing for the waiter to come over.

  “So, do you want to talk?” he asked when the waiter had finally left.

  “Not really.” I answered.

  “Okay. We'll just eat and then I'll take you home?”

  “I told you, I’m not going home.”

  “Why? Did something happen at home?” he asked.

  “No. I just .. I just can’t.”

  “So where do you want me to take you?”

  “Nowhere.” I said.

  Solomon frowned slightly, “You want me to leave you, in the street, in the middle of the night?”

  I rolled my eyes and moved my attention to the knife and fork on the table. I’m not ready to go home. I thought as I rearranged my cutlery.

  "Why do they have so much cutlery?" I asked, mostly for the sake of changing the subject but also wanting to know the purpose. It wasn’t exactly a fancy restaurant where you might see such a setup. I won't be needing a knife, I thought picking it up and placing it in the centre of the table. And not more than 1 spoon. I stacked the remaining spoons next to the knife. I picked up the last spoon and the fork and tapped them lightly on the edge of my plate as I decided which I would use.

  “Claudia, stop!” he said taking the fork out of my hand. “Ok, you don’t want to talk. I get it. I'm just trying to help." It wasn't often I heard irritation in his voice, but his expression was more hurt than annoyed. His eyes the same pale blue they were that night, in his car after the snow fight.

  If only I could have gone back to that night and given a different response, a truer response, the one that he deserved.

  Maybe if I had just told him the truth from the beginning, about everything, he would have stopped me from leaving with R that day.

  “I’m sorry.” I said putting the spoon down next to my plate. "I'm not trying to be a nuisance. I just can’t go home. I can’t face Charles yet.”

  “Why?” he asked. I shook my head slightly and didn’t answer. “OK, fine. I won’t force you to go home. But I’m not leaving you by yourself, so I hope you have some ideas on where we’re sleeping tonight.” He said as he picked up a glass of water the waiter had brought in and started drinking.

  “Right.” I chuckled, “You’re going on the run with me?”

  “Is that what this is?” he asked seriously, “You’re on the run?”

  Technically I wasn’t, no one was after me, at least according to Z's word. But I was responsible for someone’s death and as Charles had said, even if did get away with it I was probably holding myself more to ransom than anybody else.

  I didn’t answer.

  “Don’t you trust me?”

  “I do. At least I trust you not to tell anyone.”

  “But?” he asked.

  “I just don’t know if I can trust you to still feel the same way about me if I do tell you.” I said. Solomon’s jaw tightened as he attempted to restrain a smile.

  "So you do care about how I feel about you?"

  "Of course I care."

  “I don’t think there’s anything you could tell me that would change how I feel.”

  "Promise?" I asked.

  "I promise." He said, his face serious as though he were taking an oath.

  No turning back, I told myself as I let out a deep sigh. “Where would you want me to start?”

  “Wherever you're comfortable.” he replied.

  "Well," I started staring into his eyes for one last sign of caution only to find the same pair of eyes that I knew I trusted staring back at me. I should have just been honest with him from the beginning.

  “You remember Mrs Maple who was going to adopt me." I started. "Well, after I left her house it wasn't an orphanage they sent me to, it was a research facility. I went through tests and training every day. One day they would help build my strength and then test my resilience the next, kind of a make me and then break me routine. But apparently that's not all they were doing.” I glanced quickly from the corner of my eye to see his reaction to what I had said so far, he was nodding lightly, his usual expression on his face. “That lady who came to the school a few weeks ago was one of the doctors from the facility. She told me she had been implanted with an embryo that was made from cells they had taken from me and that the baby, Jason, was in trouble. I don't know why I tried to help her by myself, I just didn't know what else to do. If I'm honest, I was scared that if I asked anyone for help, then people would find out about me.” I swallowed hard at the realisation that I probably acted more ashamed of myself than my friends would.

  “Anyway," I continued. ”We went to the facility where they were keeping the baby." I stalled as the memory of the night returned to me. "It was supposed to be straightforward ... just get the baby and leave."

  "It’s ok." Solomon said rubbing my shoulder.

  I took a slow, deep breath to contain the trembling of my voice. "He was really ill. And then there was another doctor, he's the doctor who was responsible for death of my friend, who had helped me leave the facility a few months back. He didn't want us to take the baby." I picked up a napkin from the table and started folding a small origami bird I had learnt, the nap
kin a white blur through the wall of tears in my eyes. "I didn't mean to Solomon, I swear ... even though I've always wanted to, I didn't mean to react the way I did. But he had a gun and he had just shot Regina.” I looked back up at Solomon, his eyes wide with surprise, this was definitely not the story he had anticipated.

  “Continue,” he said as he put his hand onto mine, concealing my origami bird inside. His hand was soft and cool as usual, but unable to keep my own hands still, I started roughly tracing my finger across his. Solomon placed his other hand on top, squeezing firmly, in a way that meant he wouldn't let it go, his eyes confirming the sentiment and in turn allowing a huge weight to lift from my chest with the single tear as it fell.

  "Well, he attacked me, I suppose and then he shot his gun ... twice! But the bullets didn't hit me. I can’t explain how, but they hit him … and he died. So I took Regina and the baby to a hospital … but it wasn't any use ... They died too. They all died. ” I said, the end of the sentence submerged under a stream of tears and sobs.

  Solomon put his arms around me and pulled me in close. “It's OK,” he said “it doesn’t sound like it was your fault.”

  I buried my face into his chest, sobbing uncontrollably. This was the first time since the incident that I had cried and it felt good to finally have someone to share the burden with. Solomon held me firmly, allowing me to cry until tiredness overtook me and I fell asleep.

  * * *

  I inhaled deeply, the smell of pine wood filling my chest causing warmth to spread through my body. I could feel Solomon's heart beating against my cheek. He was still holding me and occasionally stroking my head. Poor Solomon, I thought, wondering exactly how long he had sat there holding me. I should probably get up. But wanting to hold onto the comfort I felt in his arms, I closed my eyes again and didn't move.

  Solomon didn't move much either, except to pick up his phone every now and again to respond to messages, most likely from Michael I imagined. He was humming, a familiar yet unrecognisable song and in between texts he would brush his hand along my hair and tuck my stray curl behind my ear. I could have stayed in that position all night until he let out a slight sigh before kissing me on the head. Then, still humming he rest his head on mine. He kissed me? My heart began to beat wildly, so loudly that I hoped he couldn't hear it. And finally, in the absence of embarrassment and fear, I realised why he sometimes made me feel so nervous and awkward. That is what I had wanted for so long; to be held and kissed by him, and at that moment as he held me, I knew I never wanted him to let me go again. I wrapped my arms around him and held him tightly.

  Solomon lifted his head up, stroking my hair from my forehead. “Are you awake?” he said softly.

  “Yeh. Sorry.” I whispered, without moving.

  “That's OK I don't mind.” he said as he stroked my head again. “They're closing up soon, though.”

  “Really?” I said sitting up quickly “How long was I sleeping for?”

  “Almost 5 hours.” he laughed lightly, looking at his watch.

  “What? You just sat here for 5 hours? Holding me?"

  Solomon's cheek twitched as one corner of his mouth curved to form one of his shy smiles.

  "Why didn't you wake me?" I asked.

  "I called you a couple times. But you seemed tired."

  "Yeh. I guess I haven't slept properly for a while now. But still! What if I hadn’t woken up?"

  “Well, they’re closing soon, so I guess I would’ve had to carry you down to the car and drive you home. Then I would have carried you up to your door. I imagine Charles would’ve taken over after that but it would have been nice to tuck you into bed.”

  “What?!” I said, half laughing. “I’m not your baby.”

  “Hmm.” He said, laughing too. “5 hours is a long time Claudia. If I had held you any longer I would never want to let you go.”

  And I probably would never want you to either, I thought. “Thank you.” I said.

  Solomon shook his head slightly. "It wasn't a problem. How do you feel now?”

  “Better, thanks. I must look a state though.” I answered, the recent events nurturing a new type of self-consciousness in me. I had showered over the last few weeks, but apart from making sure I was clean enough to go on to the next day I hadn't really taken care of much else. I knew for a fact I hadn't combed my hair properly in days.

  “Not at all.” he said, laughing softly.

  “You would say that. Do you mind if I just use the wash room?” I said, getting up from my chair.

  The mirror in the wash room was huge and bordered with small spotlights, giving it the appeal of the type of mirror you might see in a superstar’s dressing room. It was perfect for someone who wanted to ensure their makeup looked perfect and even though I didn't wear makeup, I felt I was definitely in need of a good inspection. I didn't look as tired as I thought I would, probably due to the sleep I had just had, but my eyes were still puffy and red and my hair was quite dishevelled. I washed my face and tried my best to neaten my clothes up, which really just entailed rubbing my hands down my shirt and trousers to straighten then as much as possible. My hair was the biggest challenge, no wonder poor Solomon had been trying so hard to brush it back. I tipped my head under the tap, running my fingers through my hair to untangle and redefine the curls and then shook it all back out for its naturally wild look that I loved. Wild, but neat, I told myself, nodding approvingly in the mirror. My usual voice of self-doubt was still alive to scold my sudden interest in my appearance. Why should you care what Solomon thinks, it started. To which I smiled and replied silently, because I think I'm in love with him.

  Solomon was texting on his phone again when I got back to the table.

  “Did everyone leave already?” I asked once I had sat down.

  “Yeh. Susanne took Emily and Martin.”

  “And Michael?”

  “I think he went with Josh. I hope you don't mind, but I asked Michael to contact your Dad and let him know you were with me and I'd be bringing you home soon.”

  “Why would you do that? I told you I don't want to go home?” Keeping my voice taut was easy even though I wasn’t barely as angry as I sounded.

  “Why won't you go home? Your dad is worried sick. He's been off work the last two weeks.”

  “He's been off work?”

  “Yes. I saw him a few days ago, he said he'd just been feeling under the weather, and he really did look it. I thought he must be ill or something, but it was obviously because of you.”

  “Did he say anything about me?” I asked.

  “He just told me one of your old friends was getting married and you'd gone to stay with her for a while.”

  "Did he seem angry at all?”

  "I'd say sad more than angry."

  I could imagine Charles' face, his green eyes dark with sadness. His smile replaced by a frown. "I really should go home shouldn't I?"

  I wanted to go home so badly and had been dreading every night since that night with Q. If I was honest I didn't exactly know what I had found so hard about going home, and after spending that evening with Solomon I knew I was probably judging myself a lot harder than my friends and family would.

  Solomon nodded. “You should eat first though. I spoke to the waiter when you were in the wash room, he said we can finish eating while they start cleaning up.”

  I'd forgotten how hungry I was until that moment. Without speaking I picked up my fork and started eating. It didn't take me long to finish it.

  “Wow, I would have ordered more if I knew you were that hungry.” Solomon said.

  “It's OK. That was fine. Hopefully, I'll be able to get some home cooked meals after tonight anyway.”

  I finished my drink and after clearing our bill we got up and left the restaurant to make our way back to Westpoint.

  I rest my head back into the head rest and closed my eyes. The usual smell of pine surrounded me, warming me form the inside out. I'm finally home again. I thought opening my eyes again to
watch Solomon as he drove. His eyes were slightly puffy as he concentrated on the road. He looked tired.

  "Are you ok?" I asked.

  "Yeh. Just tired."

  "I'm really sorry about tonight."

  "Please don’t be sorry." He said glancing over quickly. "I'm happy with how the night went."

  Of course he is. I thought. He went out tonight to spend time with his friends but ended up as my personal pillow for 5 hours, yet he's still happy. How do I deserve him?

  I spent the next few minutes trying to think of ways I could pay him back. How do you show someone how much they mean to you? I thought going over every scenario I had heard or read of and trying to fit myself and Solomon into them. And then, somehow, in the middle of playing out one of those scenarios, the memory of Z came back to me.

  "Solomon," I said, as I remembered Z's threat. "There's something I need to tell you."

  "Okay." He said.