Come to Me Quietly (Closer to You)

by Jackson, A. L.

  I toweled off, pulled on some boxer briefs and a clean pair of jeans.

  Wandering out into the main room, I rubbed the towel through my damp hair and glanced over at the microwave. Already twelve forty.

  Okay, so not really all that late, but was it weird Aly was still out? If I were Christopher, I wasn’t sure how I’d deal with it, a sister out at all hours of the night. If I thought I couldn’t sleep now…

  My little sister’s face hit me before I could stop it. God. I hadn’t seen Courtney since she was nine. Not since the day she’d gone to live with my grandparents three weeks after I’d destroyed our family.

  In the months that followed, my grandparents had wanted me to go with them, too, like maybe if they took me out of the house where my father drank away his days, they could save me from the downward spiral I was on. But I’d refused. There was nothing they could do to help me.

  I was so much older than Courtney that I really hadn’t ever known her all that well. I wondered what she looked like now – what she was like – if she was happy or if I’d ruined her life, too.

  I flipped all the lights off except for the one that glowed beneath the microwave, spread the thin blanket out over the couch, and sank down onto it.

  It was as comfortable as it looked.

  Tucking the pillow under my head, I stared up at the darkened ceiling. Cold air pumped continuously from the vents, keeping out the suffocating heat outside. Everything felt incredibly still and silent. I could barely hear the muted passing of cars out on the main road and the quiet hum of insects in the shrubs outside.

  Minutes ticked by as I lay alone with my thoughts. Nighttime was the worst, when the memories were so vivid, the images so graphic I was sure if I could just reach out far enough, I could stop it. Change it.

  Fix it.

  I’d do anything to be given that chance.

  When I could stand it no longer, I let my eyes drift closed. They started as flickers, small blips in time. My heart sped as the sickness I kept down all day clawed through my veins and pounded in my ears. Nausea surged and I draped my arm over my eyes, squeezed them tight, wished for anything that would blot it out. Heat seared me from the inside out, and sweat broke out across my forehead and down the back of my neck.

  Pain slammed me as everything closed in.

  And all I wanted was to die.

  THREE

  Aleena

  Cool water lapped around my waist as I waded toward the steps. I climbed out, the heat of the night a blanket of comfort as I emerged from the pool. Gabe trailed close behind me.

  I grabbed a towel from the pile sitting at the edge of the pool. My hair was soaked, plastered against the sides of my face and clinging to my back. I rubbed the towel over my face and through my hair.

  On the lounger, Megan was lost in Sam, a tangle of limbs and whispers.

  A soft snort escaped my nose. She was making him work for it, all right. I couldn’t blame her, though. I’d never seen her look at someone the way she’d been looking at him tonight. I just hoped he didn’t turn out to be a complete asshole.

  I glanced back at Gabe. I hoped Sam and Gabe were alike because I was sure he wasn’t anything close to an asshole. Gabe offered a tiny grin as he grabbed a towel for himself, a silent affirmation of my perception.

  I realized tonight had been nice, that I felt good, and maybe spending time with Gabe didn’t really hurt all that bad. I smiled back at him.

  I turned away, laughing at a few of our friends who decided it was late enough and they’d had enough to drink to peel all their clothes off and jump in the pool.

  Glad I climbed out before I ended up a party to that.

  Megan rose like a shadow in the darkness, her voice hoarse. “Hey, Aly, I think someone keeps trying to call you. Your phone is lighting up like every five seconds.” She reached for it from the small table where I’d left it, held it up while the backlight glowed, the ringer silenced. “Oh, looks like it’s Christopher calling,” she said, turning it toward me.

  Barefoot, I tiptoed to where Megan still lay curled up with Sam. The backlight faded as I took my phone from her. I ran my finger over it and saw I missed three calls from him. “Weird,” I mumbled as my nerves spiked.

  “Everything okay?” Megan asked.

  I lifted one shoulder as I redialed. “I don’t know. He tried to call me three times.” Christopher never checked up on me.

  Over the years, things had changed so much between us. When we were younger, Christopher had done his best to ditch me while I did my best to keep up with him and his friends. Funny, it was his idea that I move in with him once I graduated from high school. Since then, we’d grown really close. We looked so much alike, his green eyes just as bright as mine, though his hair was a shade darker – so black it was almost blue. He was tall, built in all the right places, and thin everywhere else. It made me laugh at how many heads he turned. When I moved in, I’d needed some time to get used to the constant string of girls he had parading in and out of his room. In the end, it came down to respecting each other’s privacy. We’d worked it out. He did his thing while I did mine.

  I wandered out into a quiet corner of the yard. A slow dread seeped over me as I dialed the phone. I held the towel close to my body as if it were a cloak of protection. The call rang twice before Christopher answered.

  “Hey,” I rushed out, “is everything all right?”

  “Yeah… ,” he said, his voice doused with distinct relief when he spoke. “I just needed to catch you before you got home.”

  The small panic that had built up in my chest subsided, curiosity taking its place. “Oh… okay. What’s up?”

  He hesitated, then practically begged as he whispered, “And please don’t get mad, okay? Because I really need you to be okay with this.”

  I felt a frown form between my eyes. I could almost see him shifting uncomfortably as he sat on the edge of his bed. The vibe of this conversation was completely out of character for my typically carefree brother. “What’s going on, Christopher?”

  He blew out a gush of air. “Do you remember Jared Holt?”

  The name was enough to knock the breath from my lungs.

  Did I remember him?

  When I looked back now, I wondered how it was possible for a heart to be broken at fourteen. But my heart had, because it’d broken for him. Still it was something my young mind could never fully comprehend. My feelings for Jared had haunted me, left this hollowed-out place deep inside me. I’d held on to that remnant of pain for so long, until it faded and transformed and became this mystery that inhabited the deepest recesses of my mind. A shadow of a memory.

  The mention of his name ignited it, basking it in light and bringing it to life again.

  I swallowed the lump lodged in my throat, though I still choked over the words. “Of course I remember him. Why?”

  “He’s back, Aly.” As if he didn’t notice my shocked silence, he continued. “Cash and I were at The Vine having a couple of beers, and he was there, just sitting at the bar like he’d been there all this time.” I could hear the sadness wrap through Christopher’s voice.

  And I could picture the boy, his hair so blond it was almost white, his ice blue eyes somehow warm, dancing with joy and ease and mischief, his red lips stretched in a teasing smile.

  Then all I saw was his pain.

  “Is he okay?” I whispered.

  “I don’t know, Aly. How could he be?” Christopher released a defeated sigh. “He’s… different. But he’s here, and that’s all that matters right now. I mean… he’s here, at our apartment. He’s been staying at some old motel, and I told him he could stay here until he found a place.” Christopher paused, hesitating. “And God, Aly, I hope I didn’t make a mistake inviting him here. He’s been in so much trouble and I don’t want to go asking for more of it, but seeing him tonight… all I could think about was all the good times we spent together as kids. He’s my best friend. It doesn’t matter what he did – nothing�
�s ever going to change that. I couldn’t just let him disappear again. I already told him you need your space and not to go bothering you. I really am sorry I didn’t ask you first.” With that, he stopped talking, an expectant silence hovering in the space between us as he asked me for permission, for this to be okay.

  I didn’t know if it was. A thousand what-ifs and fears and butterflies took flight in my stomach.

  But even if it wasn’t okay, there was no possible way I could say no.

  “Yeah… okay. I don’t mind him staying with us for a while.” I bit my lip and blinked as I said it, trying to hold in the hysteria bubbling up in my chest.

  In distinct contrast to my panic, the anxiety in my brother’s voice lifted. “Thanks, Aly. I owe you.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  Of course Christopher had no idea what it meant to me.

  “Can we not mention this to Mom and Dad? I know it’s our place and all, but I don’t need Dad riding my ass about it. You know how he felt about everything.”

  “Sure,” I said.

  “Okay, I’ll talk to you later, then.”

  “Talk to you later,” I mumbled before the call went dead.

  I turned back to the party. Megan lifted her head from the lounger, her eyebrows drawn. “What’s going on?”

  I shook my head. “Nothing. Christopher just wanted to let me know an old friend is back in town.” I shrugged like it had no effect on me. “He’s going to be staying with us for a while.”

  Megan shot up. “Really? Who?”

  “Just an old friend who grew up with us. Jared Holt,” I said with forced nonchalance.

  She frowned. In all these years, it was a name that had never once been uttered from my mouth. “He left before you moved here,” I added because I already saw the questions building in her eyes.

  Her frown deepened, but for now, she let it go. I knew I’d be hearing about it later.

  Gabe reached for me, but I subtly pulled away. “I think I’d better head home.” I slipped my shorts and T-shirt over my damp suit.

  “Are you about ready to go, Megan?” I asked as I gathered my things and shoved them in my bag. My hands were shaking. Damn it. I slung my bag over my shoulder as I stood.

  Megan glanced over at Sam, who was running lazy circles along her arm.

  “You want me to take you home later?” he asked as he looked up at her.

  She turned her attention back to me, apologetic. “I think I’ll hang out here for a little while, if that’s okay?” She bit at her bottom lip. I knew that expression well, and heard her silent please.

  I returned a look of my own, my eyes soft, but pointed. Be careful.

  The nod of her head was almost imperceptible. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” she promised.

  It was crazy that we knew each other so well, could read each other without saying a word, yet she knew absolutely nothing about the one thing that affected me most.

  “Okay, see you later.”

  Gabe’s hand found my elbow. Everything about his touch was gentle. “I’ll walk you out.”

  I didn’t say anything, just walked silently at his side, through the house, and out into the stillness of the sleeping neighborhood. I clicked the lock to my white Toyota Corolla. The yellow running lights flashed and I opened the door. Gabe dipped down to kiss me, and I turned my cheek.

  His breath washed over my face in a frustrated huff as he edged back a fraction. “What’s up with you, Aly? One second we’re good and the next you won’t let me touch you.” He leaned in closer. “You’re always so fucking hot and cold. Didn’t you feel that back there? How good we could be together?”

  I inclined my head to look up at him towering over me. “I’m sorry, Gabe,” I whispered as I shook my head. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but maybe Megan was right. I was just leading him on.

  His hand was warm when he brought it to my cheek. “I’m not giving up on you.” His touch was tender, sweet.

  He dropped his hand down to take mine, and he ran his thumb along the raised ridges that disfigured the outside of my left thumb. I squeezed my eyes shut and forced myself to keep from yanking it away. I hated when he did that.

  “I’ll talk to you later, okay?” I muttered.

  I jumped into the driver’s seat and started the engine, leaving Gabe standing in the middle of the street staring at me. I sped the short distance back to my apartment. My heart thundered so hard I felt it in my ears.

  How many times had I imagined this? Seeing him again? Just to know he was really okay. So many of my years had secretly been given to him. Nights spent in worry, plagued by questions I didn’t understand. Seeing him would put it all at peace.

  I would finally be able to let it go.

  I drove around to the back of the apartment complex and pulled into my covered parking space. I sat there for the longest time, trying to calm my racing nerves.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I climbed out of my car and grabbed my bag from the passenger’s seat. Heat rushed over my skin, constricted my chest. With each step across the parking lot, my apprehension rose higher, this overpowering need to see him wound up with acute fear.

  Finally I found the courage to slip my key into the lock. Quietly, I edged the door open to the darkened room. Muted light bled from the kitchen. The air inside tasted thick with the unknown. My heart rate increased as I chanced a step deeper inside and shut the door. I could hear him, the shallow breaths he exhaled, this tension that radiated through the enclosed space. For a moment I stilled. Pictures of us playing as kids ran through my mind, the way he’d wait for me to catch up, then tug at my hair when I finally did. “Hurry up, slowpoke, before your brother makes you go home.” The memories of that boy drew me forward.

  My eyes slowly adjusted to the faint light. His outline came into view, this unrecognizable man stretched out across the length of the couch, lost in sleep. His bare chest rose and fell, the motion almost labored, as if he struggled to get his lungs to work. One arm was flung over his face. He slept in his jeans, his feet extended over the end of the couch.

  The entirety of his exposed body was marked, covered in lines and colors and indistinct designs. I edged forward. An unknown fascination drew me on, my fingers twitching as I fought the need to feel something familiar in this man who was so entirely unfamiliar. I held my breath as I closed in on the couch, inched forward, and allowed my gaze to travel along his body.

  His eyes popped open, and I gasped as I stumbled back.

  He jerked upright, his eyes wild as they worked to focus on me. They softened minimally as he took me in, roaming as they searched. Even then, they pinned my back to the wall.

  I just stood there, breathless.

  When he whispered, his voice pierced something inside me. “Aly?”

  I was a fool if I ever thought I could let it go.

  I blinked and tried to orient myself, forcing myself to speak. “I’m sorry for waking you.”

  He said nothing, just watched me with fiery eyes. I fidgeted and dropped my face under the intensity of his gaze. Flattening myself against the wall, I slid farther down the hall and fumbled behind me to find my doorknob. I pushed it open and escaped inside because I had no idea what to do with all the thoughts that tumbled through my mind.

  I stood in the middle of my room, staring at the back of my closed door. A faint glow of light crept in from underneath.

  Shedding my clothes and damp suit, I pulled on a new pair of panties, some sleep shorts, and a matching tank. I crawled onto my bed, flopped on my back, and stared at the ceiling.

  My pulse accelerated as I thought of him on the other side of my door.

  Jared Holt was here.

  A whisper of a smile curled my lips. He was real, no longer a veiled mystery that I’d hidden away in my heart. He lived. He breathed.

  And God, if he wasn’t the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

  When I woke up the next morning, diffused morning light slipped into my room
through my blinds. Blinking, I stretched, extending my toes and lifting my arms over my head as I yawned. Jared. He was the first thing on my mind, and just the name made me smile. This morning, there was no need to coax myself out of bed. A flicker of excitement sparked in my chest when I thought of seeing Jared in broad daylight, hearing him speak, learning what he was like now. I crept across the floor. Cracking the door open, I peeked out. A blanket lay rumpled in a pile on the couch, and I could hear water running from a faucet in the bathroom.

  I tiptoed into the kitchen and rummaged through the refrigerator to find the container of orange juice. I stood on my toes to get a glass from the top shelf of the cabinet, filled it halfway, and took a sip. It was cold as it slid down my dry throat, and I closed my eyes as I swallowed, listening acutely as the faucet turned off and the door creaked open. A fever of nerves raced through me, my senses keening when I felt him emerge behind me.