by Saylor Bliss
Lucas effortlessly jumps from on top of me, and after adjusting his very visible erection, he reaches down and offers me his hand. I accept it, loving the way his fingers fit perfectly with my own. We work together, quickly packing everything up, and then we make a mad dash back to his car.
I can’t believe how close I just came to having sex in the cemetery. What the hell was I thinking? My heart is still beating out of my chest, and I’ve barely gotten my breathing under control when Lucas finishes putting the basket and blanket in the trunk. He's soaking wet when he crawls in the front seat, and I can't help but burst out laughing.
“What?” he asks, looking at me.
His hair lays limp against his forehead from the spontaneous downpour. His clothes are even more soaked than mine, showcasing his amazing muscles beneath. My mind trips over itself, imagining them pressed down on top of me again. I mentally shake my head and spit out the first thought that comes to mind.
“You look like a drowned rat.” I slap my hand over my mouth and internally berate myself for ever opening my mouth. I can't believe I just said that to him, although now that the shock of my statement has worn off, I see him grinning from ear to ear.
“Have you looked in the mirror?”
“What?” I say, slapping at his arm and pulling the visor down. My hair is a little damp and falling flat against my head, but other than that, I look fine.
“I look great!”
“I know. But it was worth it to see you freak out.” His laughter fills the car, and all of a sudden, I'm finding it hard to breathe again. I squeeze my thighs together, trying to relieve the need I feel building there. He reaches out, closing the distance between us, and gently touches his fingers against my arm. The hair along my arms raises. I suck in a quick breath and dart my eyes away from his knowing gaze before he moves away.
I can't think of a time in my life that I have ever wanted someone or something as much as I want him right this second. My body has betrayed me. His breathing is as labored as my own, telling me all I need to know. If I gave the okay, there would be no stopping, but I can't do that to him. Especially after everything he shared with me today. I am too broken. He deserves someone who can be there for him, someone who will build him up and stand by his side through the hard roads ahead, someone who can give as much as they take. That is not me. I am like a leech. A parasite. I latch on and suck everyone around me dry until they can barely live themselves. Then, in a moment of clarity, they let me go. I don't blame them at all. I am poison, and if they stayed, I’d just break them too.
The sound of the car starting shocks me back out of my inward battle. Lucas's eyes light, shining bright against his olive skin. I feel myself smile. He makes me feel like I can be better. He makes me want to be more. For him, I think I can. Not because I want to be with him, or because I think he could only care for me if I were normal, but because he ignites something inside of me that forces me to see myself as more than just a diagnosis. When he smiles at me and lights my heart on fire, I want to be the person that he sees. I want to be worthy of his love. I want to be strong enough to keep my monster away.
Battling this beast inside of myself every day is exhausting. Every single day, I have to choose whether I want to fight for a moment of peace and happiness or if I am just too tired to care.
Most days, I allow myself to be infected by the lies I tell myself, too lost inside of my own shell to search for the truth. Too worn down to have the desire to believe anything else, no matter what others around me say. I know I have a pretty decent life. I know that there is someone out there in the world who has it so much worse than I do, but in that moment, I feel like my hell is the worst. I can't compare myself to someone else and see the bright side of it.
I can't force myself to feel better by choosing to have a different attitude, like so many self-help books tell me to do. When my monster decides to rear her ugly head, I become the scared, lonely, unloved little girl again. I crumble beneath the weight of guilt and sadness, but Lucas makes me feel like I can stand up to my inner monster. He makes me feel like I can conquer the world, and that scares the fucking shit out of me.
“Where are we headed?” he asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“What?” I ask, caught off guard.
“Do you want me to take you back to school to get your car, or do you want me to take you home?”
“Oh shit! I forgot about Ashlin.” I say, looking at the clock on the dash. Thank God, I think when I see that it is just 2:50.
“I'm supposed to give her a ride home today. Her mom had to use her car for something.” I try to explain my outburst, but he just nods his head, unconcerned, and turns left onto the street that will take us back to school. I squirm in my seat, trying to gather the nerve to say what I need to say. Normally, it wouldn't be so hard, but I have so many wild emotions flowing through me right now that it makes it hard to focus.
I realize I'm running out of time as we pull into the studio parking lot.
“Thank you, Lucas. For everything today.” I don't turn to him. I can't. Instead, I sit ramrod straight, facing forward, with one hand on the door handle, ready to escape.
“Thank you, Charlee. It was one of the best days of my life.” I wonder silently if he would still feel that way if I hadn't spent thirty minutes mauling him to death.
He gently touches my chin, pulling my face around to face him. I keep my eyes downcast, choosing to stare at my clasped hands rather than look into his eyes. He waits silently, demanding my full attention. I glance up.
“I mean it, Charlee. I can't tell you how much it meant to me to have someone to talk to, to share all that with, and for you to not judge me for my past.”
“Anytime,” I say lamely, not knowing what else to say. I have a million thoughts running through my head, fighting for the winning lead. My monster is raging, yelling things in my ear that I don't want to hear, but I can't block her out—not completely—so I scream happier thoughts back, refusing to let my own demons ruin this day.
He leans in to kiss me goodbye. I tense as my monster shouts with glee, thinking she won this round.
He only wants your body.
He doesn't like you.
No one likes you.
But instead of pressing his lips against mine, he leaves a trail of feather-light kisses along my cheek. My eyes shoot open to his when he pulls back slightly.
“Baby fish kisses. Everly’s favorite,” he says before leaving one more on the tip of my nose. My heart swells twice its own size. I feel it stretching and growing inside my chest. My smile stretches a mile wide as I climb from his car and walk to my own.
Fuck you, monster. Fuck you.
And for the first time ever, she is completely silent. I think Lucas knocked the fight right out of her.
Chapter Twenty- Three
Charlee
Twenty minutes later, Ashlin and I are pulling up at my house. I turn in the driveway, and all of sudden, I am overcome with this overwhelming desire to run the other way. I can't even begin to try to explain it. I have always been one to follow my instincts. Hell, they had saved my life several times in the past, and right now, they were screaming at me, drowning out everything else. And then, as quickly as they came, they disappeared.
“Charlee?” Ash asks curiously.
“Huh? Yea, I'm coming.”
I shake off the crazy sense of doom and walk in the house, calling out to my Aaron to let him know I’m home.
“Charlee? Come here for a minute,” he calls from the kitchen, and I swap directions and head that way instead of down the hallway to my bedroom.
As soon as I round the corner, my world falls in upon itself, and I immediately realize the feelings from earlier were correct. I should have run in the other direction. I should have left home, fled the state. Anything would have been better than standing here in my own house, the one place I was supposed to feel safe, staring into the tear-filled eyes of my mother. The last person I ever w
anted to see again. The one human being who singlehandedly ruined me and made me the shadow of the being I am now.
“What the fuck, Aaron? What is she doing here?” My voice echoes off the walls of the kitchen. Everyone turns to look at me. Shock is evident in both Aaron’s and Ashlin’s expressions, but all I see is the pitiful look of forced guilt on my mother’s face. I have seen this same look on her face so many times in the past, and it doesn’t faze me at all now. What does faze me is the fact that she is my house.
In my kitchen.
Drinking out of my favorite glass.
Ok, that last one is a lie, but who cares? What the fuck is she doing here?
I don't realize I spoke out loud until I see her flinch, and I almost feel bad.
Almost being the imperative word there.
Fuck her.
She ruined my life.
I turn on my heel and storm out of the kitchen. Down the hall in my room, I lay Everly in the center of my bed, and then I grab whatever I can get my hands on and shove it into a bag. Ashlin is there, staring at me, probably wondering what the hell is going on, but she doesn't ask, and I love her for that. I toss her my bag and walk across the room to the bathroom and pack my toothbrush and makeup, and then I walk out the door, slamming it behind me.
Ashlin has Everly’s things packed in the bag, so after grabbing a change of clothes for myself, I pick my daughter up off the bed and walk out of the room, slamming this door behind me too, only to open the door right back up and grab the stack of letters from under my mattress. I shove them into my overnight bag, and then I slam the door again, harder this time, and walk down the hall and out the front door. Ashlin follows behind me as I climb into the car and drive down the street to her house.
“I’m staying here for a while.” I don't ask for permission. I know I don't need to, and right now, I just can't. My body is shaking uncontrollably, and the adrenaline flowing through it is starting to wane. I feel the betrayal from my father hitting me all at once, and I choke, swallowing a sob.
“How the fuck could he do that to me?” I ask no one in particular, climbing out of the car. I fall to my knees.
“How? I just don't get it. He knows, Ash. He knows what she did.” I can't keep the tears in anymore. They are falling from my eyes so fast, I couldn't catch them if I wanted to.
I don't.
“I hate him. I hate her. I them both. I HATE THEM! HATE THEM!”
I'm screaming at the top of my lungs now, and I can't stop. My world in closing in around me, and I can't stop it. Everything around me fades until all I can see is a tiny spot right in front of me. My vision narrows, like I'm looking through a tiny peephole. Spots dance across my eyes. My heart is beating erratically. I feel it pounding in my chest like a sledge hammer, trying to break through the walls I have built around it.
I'm ten years old again and locked in a closet at Granny T’s while my mom and Frank have their friends over. The music is blaring throughout the night, the only thing I can hear until the fighting begins. I grab Matt, my baby brother, and pull him to my lap and cover his ears with my palms. I don't want him to hear this. I hate that his precious six-year-old ears are subjected to this over and over, but I don’t know how to make it stop.
I don’t know how to get us out of this.
Even if I find a way home, he will be stuck here with her, afraid and alone. I want to take him back with me, but even I know that isn’t possible. He will end up with his father . . . Frank. It could be worse. He could be stuck with her forever.
Maybe he will get lucky and be left here with Granny T again. Anything is better than being stuck with the woman we share as a mom.
The noise keeps getting louder and louder. I press my hands against his ears, hoping and praying that nothing makes it past my thin blockade. I wish I could block it out too. Something crashes to the floor, followed by more screaming and cursing. I want it to stop. I hate her so damn much.
Someone is shaking. I look up, expecting to see her again, but all I see is a house. A bright yellow house with forest green shutters and an American flag whipping through the air at the front door. Ashlin’s house. Ashlin. She is shaking me, yelling at me. I can't hear her.
I'm still screaming. I want to be screaming at them. I want them to both see what their SHITTY ASS decisions did to me.
“Is this what they wanted?” I'm shaking Ashlin back now, yelling at her.
“To see me break?” I demand.
“Don't they know I am already BROKEN?” My voice cracks against the strain I’ve put on it.
“I have been. Since the very first day I laid eyes on HER.”
“Charlee. Charlee, sweetie. I don’t understand what’s going on.”
Of course she doesn't, because I never told her. I kept it all to myself, believing it was in the past . . . where she should have stayed.
“Charlee, breathe, babe. Ya gotta take a breath, Charlee.”
I don't understand what she is saying. I hear her words. I piece the words together in my mind, but I don't know how to do what she is asking. I can't breathe. All my air was sucked out of me the moment I laid eyes on her again. Ashlin is hitting me on the back and yelling in my face. I hear Everly screaming from a short distance away, and I try to pull myself back, to swallow the pain back down and cover it with the hatch once again, but I can’t. It’s burst free, spilling from me.
“Breathe, CHARLEE!”
“BREATHE!”
Ashlin is in my face now. Tears are streaming down her face, and in her arms she holds Everly, who is still crying, red-faced and furious. That’s what breaks through to me. I don't want to hurt my baby. I never want to hurt her. I hurt enough for the both of us.
I gasp, sucking in a lungful of air.
And then I breathe in another mouthful of air. My lungs are screaming at me now, but at least Ashlin has stopped screaming. I don't like her yelling at me. It hurts. I hold out my arms, and she passes me my baby, who quiets as soon as I touch her.
“My God, Charlee. You scared the shit out of me.”
My heart breaks. Right there in the middle of her front yard. It shatters in my chest and I fall apart.
Thirteen Years Earlier . . .
We are driving to the airport. I know this, because Wendy told me so. I have a small suitcase packed with the clothes that Wendy and Mike bought for me over the last few weeks. Wendy is crying. She hasn't stopped since she talked to my daddy. I don't cry. I don't know how. I wish I could, though. I wish I could take all of Wendy’s tears away. I don't like her hurting. It makes my chest hurt.
I changed my mind.
I don't want to go.
I'll stay, if it will make you feel happy again, Wendy. I’d stay for you if I could.
We are pulling up now, and Mike is grabbing my suitcase while Wendy takes my hand. We walk to the front desk, and Mike says something to the lady behind the counter. She is sweet. Her smile is pretty. She tells me her name is Cassandra, and she is going to take me to the plane.
I don't want to go.
I'm so scared.
I hold tight to Wendy’s hand, and I beg her to go with me. She starts crying even harder. I don't want to see her cry. It makes my chest hurt deep inside. I want to make Wendy happy again, but I don't know how.
Cassandra says Wendy and Mike can come to the plane with me, and Wendy smiles and says thank you. Mike wraps his arms around her shoulders and mine when she picks me up. Wendy's arms feel like home to me right now.
I want to stay home.
We walk through a machine that beeps if you have metal on you. I have to put my St. Christopher's coin in a bucket before I pass through it, and then I get to pick it back up on the other side. Wendy and Mike empty their pockets and pass through too. We are almost to the plane, Cassandra says. I don't want to go to the plane. My belly feels like something is wiggling inside of it, and it's bubbling up in my throat. I almost feel like I’m going to be sick, but it's a different sick. I don't like it.
&
nbsp; “Would you like a snack from the gift shop before you go on?” Cassandra asks me. I like her. She’s really sweet to me. I get a bag of M&M’s and an apple juice. When we leave the gift store, Cassandra bends down. She has a pink bag in her hand. I like pink, but I wish the bag were blue. Blue is my favorite color.
She reaches in the bag and pulls out a white polar bear. She tells me he is on his way to Alabama, and that he is scared to fly all alone. She asks me if I’m scared.
“No,” I tell her, even though I’m terrified.
I don't want to go.
I want to stay here, with Wendy.
“That's really good news, Charlee. Do you think since you're not scared that you could keep Po company on the plane ride? So that he isn't scared?”
I know Po isn’t scared. He's a stuffed animal, and stuffed animals don't get scared, but I don't say that, because I really do like Po, and I want to take him to Alabama with me.
“Yes.”
“Thank you, Charlee. It makes me happy to know he will be taken care of. You will take care of him, won't you, Charlee?”
“Yes.”
Cassandra introduces us to Gail. Gail is my flight attendant. She’s going to stay with me during the whole flight in case I need anything. I can't think of anything I would need on the plane, but I nod okay anyway. Gail pins a gold set of wings to my shirt. She says it's so that the other attendants will know I’m flying alone.
All alone.
I don't want to go.
It's time to go. I feel my throat burning, and I think I’m about to cry, but nothing comes. Then, Wendy hugs me and tells me she loves me and that she will never forget me.
“Always and forever, Charlee. I will love you always and forever, my baby girl.”
“I don't want to go, Wendy. Please don't make me go. I can stay with you and Mike. Please, Wendy. Please!”
My words break her. I watch as she crumbles to the floor in the middle of the airport. She doesn't want me to go either.