by S. M. Soto
This morning my mom tried to rope me into going on a “family outing” with her, Richard, and Connor, but I politely declined, feigning sickness. Surprisingly she bought into it. I didn’t want to spend any extra time near Connor if I didn’t have to, and a family outing? Yeah, that wasn’t going to work for me.
As I sit on the front steps of the porch, a light breeze ruffles my hair, sending wisps in front of my face. I brush the stray hairs away from my face and mouth and freeze at the figure toward the end of the street. I straighten my back on the stoop and narrow my eyes, so I can get a better look, and when I do, my heart just about bursts out of my chest.
This weekend has been marked on Myrah’s calendar as the weekend her and her family head to SoCal for spring break to visit her older brother, Evan. I thought for sure Liam would’ve gone with them, but as I stare, slack jawed at the figure running down the street, toward me, I realize he must’ve opted to stay behind.
My mouth goes painfully dry when I take in his body, sans shirt. His basketball shorts hang low on his hips, revealing a deep v of muscles that I didn’t even know existed. What kind of exercises do you need to get something like that? Or are you born with it? Because Jesus…it’s distracting. Almost as distracting as his perfectly sculpted six-pack and his pecs that tighten every time he pumps his arms.
This…this is not the body of a teenage boy.
What I’m feeling, that warmth currently warming my belly and swimming through my veins, I know it’s wrong, but hell, I don’t want it to ever go away.
The closer he gets to our houses, the more I start to notice how sweaty he is. It isn’t the gross kind of sweaty you’re thinking of, oh, no. It’s the kind that makes you want to glide your hand over it in fascination and wonder how someone can possibly make sweat look so damn enticing.
I feel the moment Liam notices me perched on the steps of my porch. It causes heat to rise in my cheeks and my stomach clenches. Like the inexperienced, naïve, fool I am, I raise my hand awkwardly and wave. Instead of Liam bounding up the steps to Myrah’s house, he passes the two-story, headed straight for me. My chest heaves to accommodate my heavy breathing and my pulse vibrates within my ears.
“Hey, Bea.” Liam breathes out, coming to a stop in front of me.
I swallow thickly, forcing the words past my lips. “H-hi, Liam.”
He grins down at me, stray, dark brown hairs matted to his head from his successful run. His smile hits me square in the chest, damn-near knocking the air out of me. He reaches behind him, grasping the shirt stuffed into the waistband of his shorts and he uses it to wipe the glistening sweat off his handsome face.
“Mind if I sit with you?” he asks, jerking his chin toward the empty piece of cement next to me.
“O-of course not,” I stutter out again, foolishly, making room for his larger than life body.
We sit in silence for a stretch of time. Long enough that I feel him slip his shirt on next to me. I have to bite on my bottom lip and force myself not to get one last glimpse of his amazing body before he covers himself up for good. I have the sudden urge to scream, “I’ll be in high school next year and we can finally be together!”, but I hold myself back. Just barely.
I know that’s why Liam hasn’t talked much to me during his time here, he probably thinks I’m a little kid. But not for long. In two months, I will officially be done with eighth grade and in the same realm as Liam. The high school realm. I mean, sure, I know he’s two years older than me. By the time I start freshman year, he’ll be a junior, but none of that matters to me. I can’t stop the way I react to Liam, even if I know it’s wrong. He’s older, way out of my league, not to mention my best friend’s cousin.
“Good run?” I finally manage to squeak out in a semi-normal voice. I peak at him out of the corner of my eye and catch him watching me with a smirk on his face. It makes my cheeks heat.
“It wasn’t bad. Few seconds behind my normal time, but that can be fixed before the season starts.” His voice is deep. The timbre rumbles in his chest, almost like a low growl. “What about you?” he asks, bringing my eyes back to him. “What’re you doing out here?”
As I try to gather my thoughts, I stare into his eyes, getting lost in the icy blue color. Up this close, it’s easy to make out the multitude of blue’s that makeup the entirety of his eyes—ice blue, cobalt blue, and a pale, almost white blue.
I shrug my shoulders, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “I just wanted to get some fresh air. I usually head to the open field on Orchid Street, but my mom will be home with everyone soon and I’m supposed to be ‘sick’.” I air quote for emphasis.
Liam chuckles and shakes his head in amusement. “Fresh air is always good. I haven’t seen you around much, I was starting to worry you disappeared,” he says, and my eyes widen.
“You were? I mean—you noticed?” I can’t hide the surprise in my voice. It only makes the grin on Liam’s face spread wider, making room for that lone dimple in his cheek that does crazy things to my heart.
“I notice a lot of things, Bea.”
The way he says it and the look in his eyes makes me realize we might not be talking about the same thing anymore—something else entirely now. The realization has my heart galloping and my palms sweating. I’m getting flustered over a simple sentence from him. Good Lord, I need help.
“So,” I say, clearing my throat, trying to will away the flush permanently coated on my cheeks. “You mentioned earlier you timed yourself while running, are you training for something?”
“Baseball. It’s the one thing I’m good at, so I can’t afford to fall off track.”
My brows pull down at the sudden seriousness on his face. “I’m sure you’re good at tons of things.”
This makes his mouth quirk. “Oh, sweet Bea. If you only knew.”
Ohmygod. Ohmygod. Ohmygod!
I dart my face down, hiding the fiery blush painted on my face and neck. I suck my bottom lip into my mouth and bite down, hard, trying to stifle the cheesy smile that so desperately wants to spread across my face.
“You really think you’re only good at baseball?” I ask, more serious this time.
He shrugs. “Pretty much. It’s the only thing that matters to me. Baseball is my life.”
His answer makes me smile. “Well, how good is good, hmm?” I tease, making him laugh.
“I can show you.” His blue eyes search mine and this time, I don’t even try to hide the cheesy smile on my face.
“Really?”
His dimple pops out again. “C’mon,” he says, pushing to his feet and extending his hand to me. I stare at it, marveling at how big it is. I swear, I think his palm is bigger than my whole entire head and face combined. The protruding veins in his hands are like an aphrodisiac I didn’t realize existed. Gulping a large inhale, I place my palm in his and watch as his entire hand engulfs mine. As I look up into his eyes, I smile. It’s a smile I’ve never given anyone before, it’s reserved solely for him.
In Myrah’s backyard, I allow Liam to teach me the basics of baseball. Right now, we’re working on how to swing the bat. I can only hope the damn thing doesn’t go flying out of my sweaty hands and into someone’s window. Mom would seriously kill me.
“How fast can you swing this thing?” I ask him.
“My batting average was .360 when I was training with my last team.”
“Is that…good?”
He chuckles. “Well, the scouts seem to think so. But it’ll take more than my batting average to stay on their radar—here, come here,” he says, closing the distance between us, unable to finish his thought as he watches me fling the metal bat like I have spaghetti noodle arms. His warm hands rest over mine on the base of the bat. He repositions my fingers, his hands lingering over mine a few extra seconds. I dart a quick, sheepish gaze over my shoulder, enjoying the way his skin feels on mine.
“Here, you want to pull this elbow back like this.” His hand grasps my arm lightly, repositioning me
. His front is to my back, his arms encased around me as he tries to show me the correct stance. In all honesty, I don’t care. I’m not taking in anything he’s saying at the moment. My mind and body are transfixed on his touch and proximity. I can’t even think straight. He’s everywhere, yet, not where I want him to be.
“Got it?” he asks softly, almost huskily, near my ear. A shiver runs up and down my spine at the sensation of his lips near my ear. I swallow the sudden lump in my throat and turn my head to the side, so I’m looking over my shoulder. At him. Our faces are mere inches apart. So close, we can feel each inhale and exhale passing from our lips. Liam’s eyes suddenly flare and the urge to lean into him is all consuming. Instead, I stand paralyzed, still as stone, rooted to the soft grass below my feet, too inexperienced, too nervous to move. Liam’s hands tighten around mine that are still gripping the bat, for dear life, and I don’t know if I imagine it, but we lean closer, a fraction.
He’s going to kiss me. He’s going to kiss me. He’s going to kiss me.
The sound of car doors slamming nearby has us jolting apart, snapping out of the haze of lust we were just stuck under. I dart my gaze toward my house and through the cracks in the fence, I see Richard’s car in the driveway.
Shoot, they’re home.
“I have to go,” I whisper and practically run back to my house, trying to sneak back inside before anyone ever notices I was gone.
I pull myself up from the couch and head straight to my room. Shutting the door behind me, my body sags against it. I hate it here. I wish having my mom home gave me a reprieve—a sense of hope. But it doesn’t. She can’t save me. No one can.
How do you save someone if you don’t know they need saving?
Pushing off the door, I strip out of my clothes, and dress casually in a baggy sweatshirt, with even baggier jeans. Even though it’s September and the weather is extremely warm, I still layer myself. It’s my only form of protection. The loose layer of clothing is like a cloak of safety for me, or at the very least, that’s what my mind believes. When the rape first started, I had hoped dressing more like a boy would deter Connor, but it never did. Nothing I did ever fazed him.
I leave my hair down to use as a shield for the rest of the night if I need it.
Feeling as presentable as I’ll ever get, I throw myself down on my bed, and stare up at the ceiling, counting the stars. My eyes slowly drift to the thick, vertical scar on my wrist. I can still feel the pain of the blade slicing into my skin. The weakness of muscles and tendons as I dug the blade deeper. I still remember the way the dark red blood trickled out of the wounds. It was a never-ending flow. The weakness and fatigue that came after still haunts me, even to this day. It was like I could feel the life leaving my body. Feel my soul slipping away. And even though I’m still here, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten my soul back. Not after that day. With angry tears in my eyes, I lose myself in the scattered stars painted on the ceiling.
PAST
WINTER OF 2010
I walk side by side with Liam to the tall, empty field of grass that’s a block and a half away from my house, on Orchid Street and Willow Drive. This empty lot has been here since I was a kid. Just an open acreage of grass and nothing more. It’s my favorite place to watch the stars and the sunset. It’s also the only place my mom will let me go.
It’s not awkward like I thought it would be without having Myrah here. She had a dentist appointment today, so she couldn’t hang out with us—which was fine with me. It finally gave me time to hang out with Liam by myself. Over the last seven months we’ve gotten closer—became friends even—stealing shared moments and casting secretive looks at each other. This is the first time I’ve suggested we hang out here, at the field, the one place I can call my own.
We sit side by side in the field, watching the sun go down. Pink and orange hues emblazon the sky beautifully in warm colors. But the sunset isn’t my favorite part about being out here. It’s watching the dark curtain of night fall and looking up at the stars as they slowly make their appearance. The stars furthest away, almost outside the span of human comprehension, are like glittering sparks dusted along the veil of darkness. I turn my head toward Liam, and all the blood rushes to my face. He’s been staring at me this whole time, yet he doesn’t even seem bothered that I just caught him gawking.
“What are your plans after college?”
I snicker at his question. “We’re not even finished with high school yet, Liam. What makes you think I’ve thought about life after I graduate?” I question with a raised brow.
“Because I know you, Bea,” he says with a chuckle and it makes me smile.
I lay back on the sharp blades of grass and stare up at the night sky. The stars slowly get brighter as the sky begins to darken. That’s why I love it out here, on this field, there’s no ambient lights here, just the brightness coming from the stars and the moon. Nature at its finest.
“I want to work for NASA or do something that keeps me close to the stars and all the planets. I want to know everything there is to know about the universe, like what makes the world go around, why we can or can’t live on Mars. I want to know it all by heart, like its natural knowledge to me. I want the universe. All of it at my fingertips.” I turn my head toward him, and find he’s lying in the same position as I am, only, he’s not staring at the stars, he’s staring at me.
“What about you, Liam, what are your plans after college?”
He shifts his eyes up to the stars and is quiet for a beat while he searches for his answer amongst the clusters of light dotting the sky.
“I want to play baseball. Professionally. It’s been my dream since I was kid. If I’m lucky, by my senior year here, I’m hoping I’ll be scouted.”
“I think you can do it, and when you do make it, promise me you’ll sign a baseball for me?”
It was supposed to be a joke, but he doesn’t find it funny. His face is blank as he continues staring at me.
“I’ll do a lot more than that Bea.” He reaches his arm out and trails his finger down my face lightly. The small act has my eyes fluttering closed. My heartbeat increases, and my pulse pounds in my ears. The butterflies in my stomach roar to life, and my breathing becomes erratic.
My neck and cheeks flush wildly with embarrassment from such a small touch. I tilt my head to the side to hide my face from him. I know it's wrong, feeling the way I do about Liam. But I can't stop the bundle of nerves and the butterflies floating in my stomach whenever he's around. I want to kiss him more and more each day but I'm afraid and confused. He's older and every girl at our school likes him or has their sights set on him. Why would he like a little girl like me? I wish more than anything that I was old enough for him, so he would want me to be his girlfriend.
When I turn my face back to his, he’s staring at me intently. I can’t help but wonder if he wants to kiss me, because that’s all I want to do right now. Summoning the courage I didn’t know I possessed, I ask him the one thing that’s been on my mind since the baseball incident in Myrah’s backyard.
“Liam?” I whisper his name. It’s a question—a plea. “Will you kiss me now?”
To my surprise he smiles, revealing his lone dimple in his right cheek that always makes my stomach flutter happily. He grips my hands and pulls me to my feet so I’m standing in front of him with a few inches in between us. He shakily brings his hands to my face and cups my cheeks lightly. I know he’s probably kissed other girls before, but I don’t care. All I can think about are his lips on mine for the first time. The pounding of my heart is so loud, I’m afraid he’ll hear it, sensing my nervousness.
“Look up, Bea,” he whispers. I do as he says and look up at the bright blanket of stars hovering above us. A small smile spreads across my face.
It’s so beautiful.
I drop my eyes to his and swallow thickly when his mouth descends upon mine, prompting my body to erupt in tingles. The moment his mouth touches mine, something happens inside me—in my hear
t. Like a current of electricity, the force draws us together and travels through my body. His lips are soft, gentle, and oh so perfect. His mouth tastes of peppermint from the gum he always chews.
I feel light on my feet, like I’m floating, or like my world has been thrown off its axis. My first kiss is everything I thought it should be and so much more than I bargained for. It’s abundantly clear to me that I’m falling for the boy next door.
“One day I’ll give you the universe, Bea.”
“You already have,” I whisper in complete awe, as I get lost in his hypnotizing blues.
From that day forward, our slow and timid kisses grew heated, and happened more frequently. I wasn’t sure if this made him my boyfriend, but it still made me immensely happy nevertheless.
Much to my surprise, after telling Myrah we kissed, she jumped up and down squealing happily. She seemed to think that somehow if Liam and I got married, we would be related. I didn’t have the heart to tell her it would only make us cousin-in-laws.
FEBRUARY 2011
Since my birthday is tomorrow and my mom is taking me out to dinner with Richard and Connor, Myrah wanted to do something special for me too. This morning when I got to her house, she made me sit back and watch Mean Girls, again, while she gave me a manicure and pedicure. After that, her mom dropped us off at the mall, and I used my weekly allowance on a few clothing items that I thought would impress Liam. Now that we’re back home, I can’t help but notice how strange Myrah’s acting. Every time I ask where Liam is, she changes the subject.
Did he forget my birthday? Is he with another girl?
Thoughts of all kind flow through my head until I feel like it might explode. Myrah finally puts me out of my misery by dragging me out of her house to mine. She covers my eyes with her hands after closing the front door and leads me down my hallway. I can’t see a thing underneath her hands, its pitch black and I constantly feel like I’ll bump into something at any second, even though I know I probably won’t. With my sight taken from me, I’m hyper aware of everything else surrounding me. The sound of my heavy breathing and our feet shuffling along the hardwood floors.