by Cassia Leo
‘I have to leave us something to strive for.’
He places his hands on the pillow on either side of my head and leans down to kiss me. I can taste myself all over his mouth and I don’t mind. I’m part of him now. And soon he’ll be a part of me.
‘Are you ready?’ His eyes are locked on mine.
I nod as I open my legs a little wider. ‘I’m ready.’
‘Just keep your eyes open and locked on me so I know whether I’m hurting you.’
He lowers himself down onto his elbows so our noses are almost touching, then his hand reaches down between us to guide himself in. He only makes it in an inch or so before he meets heavy resistance.
‘Are you okay?’ I nod and he nods back. ‘I’m going to go very slow, okay?’
I nod again, unable to speak. He kisses my forehead and I reach up to hold his face as he looks into my eyes. He moves slowly in and out of me, just a sliver of an inch farther with each stroke.
‘I love you.’
He smiles and kisses my nose. ‘I love you.’
‘Kiss me.’ He looks hesitant about not being able to see my face, to know if he’s hurting me, but that’s exactly what I want. ‘Please.’
He leans in to kiss me and it doesn’t take long for the whole world to fall away. I coil my arms tightly around his neck as I wrap my legs around his hips, coaxing him farther into me. I gasp into his mouth, but I hold onto him firmly so he can’t pull away.
‘Don’t stop.’ I whisper this plea into his mouth, then I kiss him hard.
The pain is bearable.
‘Just breathe in,’ he whispers, sliding a few inches into me, ‘and breathe out.’ He slides out and my muscles relax. I grip his arms, amazed at how solid they feel. ‘Keep your eyes on mine. Don’t look anywhere else. Just look at me.’
I take a deeper breath as he slides in a bit further and I groan.
He freezes. ‘Are you okay?’
I nod and he leans forward to lay a soft kiss on my eyebrow. ‘Please tell me if I hurt you.’
‘I will.’
He brushes his lips across my brow and down my temple, then he kisses my cheekbone. Tilting his head back, he looks me in the eye again as he eases himself a little farther inside and I dig my nails into his shoulders.
‘Is that okay?’
‘Yes.’ I slide my hands over his shoulders and up his neck until I have his face in my grasp. ‘You could never hurt me.’
He groans, fighting to keep his eyes open as he gets closer to orgasm. His arms begin to tremble and I can see it’s taking quite a bit of effort for him to continue to move so slowly. But he never breaks eye contact as his hips thrust into me, stretching me ever so gently. I find myself already thinking of the next time we get to have sex. This is the way it’s supposed to feel; the closeness and the primal connection of skin on skin; pleasure for pleasure.
His grunts softly as he lets go inside of me and I smile, through my panting.
The pain is bearable.
My first indication that something is very wrong is the smell. I can smell Mikki’s hair, but it’s mixed with something else. Fabric softener. I open my eyes and panic sets in when I see the guitars hanging on the wall on my right. The smell is coming from my freshly laundered sheets.
‘Fuck,’ I whisper this, but it’s enough to wake Mikki.
‘What’s going on?’ She lifts her head off my chest and squints at her surroundings. ‘Oh my God! What time is it?’
‘We have to get up now or we’re going to miss the flight.’ I glance at the clock on my nightstand. ‘It’s seven twenty-six. We have an hour and forty-five minutes to get to the hotel and pack our suitcases and head to the airport. Then we’ll have to hope that we make it through security in time for the nine-fifteen flight.’
‘Then we’d better hurry up. You can’t miss that flight!’ She throws the covers off, but I grab her hand before she can hop out of bed.
‘Hey. How are you feeling?’
She stares at me for a moment and I hope she’s not trying to think of a lie. ‘A little sore.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t apologize.’ Her eyes begin to tear up and she takes a breath to compose herself. ‘I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to describe what you did for me last night. Please don’t ever think you have to be sorry for that. The pain is just a subtle reminder of how alive you made me feel.’
My chest swells with warmth. ‘God, I fuckin’ love you.’
By the time we’re dressed and we’ve made it down to the curb, my heart is hammering against my chest. Kane has agreed to move my appointment today from three o’clock to five o’clock today. But I won’t make it if I don’t catch this flight. Mikki and I should have brought our luggage to my apartment, but I was certain we’d go back to the hotel room. I didn’t think we were going to get completely lost in each other last night.
She’s still trying to pull on her gloves as we wait for the car. I reach over to help her. It’s freezing out here; negative fifty-two, factoring in wind-chill.
‘I hope they don’t cancel the flight again.’ She says this through chattering teeth.
I pull the strings on her hood a bit tighter and plant a soft kiss on her lips. ‘If they cancel our flight, then we’ll charter a plan.’
Her eyes light up at this suggestion. ‘And we won’t have to sit in separate cabin.’
‘When we get on the flight, we can trade seats.’
She shakes her head adamantly. ‘Nope. I’d like to enjoy my final flight in coach, cause I know we’re flying first class from here on out, right?’
‘We’ll buy a plane if that will make you happy.’
‘You know how to fly a plane?’
‘No, but I can learn. And I didn’t mean that kind of plane. I meant a jet. Someone else would fly the plane while we enjoy the flight.’ She rolls her eyes and I kiss her temple as the black town car rounds the corner. ‘Watch your step.’
I open the door for her to get in, then I round the back of the car to the other side. Slamming the door shut, I reach across and grab Mikki’s gloved hand.
‘Forget the seatbelt. Come here.’
She looks relieved that I’ve invited her to cuddle with me. It’s too cold, even with the heater on in this car, to sit two feet away from the one you love. I reach into my pocket and pull out my crushed penny guitar pick. Rubbing it between my fingers, I think of how proud Grandpa Hugh would be if he could see me making my own way instead of depending on my father.
Mikki reaches up and grabs the penny from my fingers. ‘The copper’s all green from your sweaty fingers. I’m going to get you some new guitar picks – custom-engraved with “Crush picked me”. Then you can throw them out into the crowd at concerts and all the girls will swoon.’
‘This is my lucky pick.’ I take the pick back from her and tuck it into my pocket. ‘And I don’t care about driving the girls wild.’
‘But that’s what makes you successful,’ she insists. ‘You don’t have to sleep with them to make them think you want to. You have to appear totally into your music while you’re performing, but flash a little smile here and there. It tells them you’re enjoying their presence.’
‘Since when do you know so much about performing for a crowd?’
‘I don’t. I just watch a lot of live performances on YouTube.’
I tilt her head up and I can see a bit of sadness and embarrassment at this admission. ‘You’ve never been to a concert?’ She shakes her head. ‘I’m taking you to a concert in L.A.’
She smiles. ‘You’re going to be pretty busy making up for all the things I haven’t done.’
‘Spring semester doesn’t start for more than two weeks. We’ve got time.’
Her smile disappears and she pulls back a little. ‘What’s going to happen when we’re both back in school?’
‘I don’t know. I can make it down to Brockton to see you at least a couple of times a week. And definitely every weekend, except some Sundays
when I’m performing.’
‘Where do you perform? Wally’s?’
‘I go to Wally’s a lot, but I don’t perform there all the time. I’ll probably take you there pretty often so you can get comfortable with those guys. Is that okay?’
‘Yes, but where do you perform?’
‘I’m in the Sunday Band. It’s one of two jazz bands at Harvard. We do local jazz festivals and university events. Sometimes we only perform once a month and sometimes it’s every weekend for a few weeks in a row. Just depends on what’s going on.’
‘Sunday? That means you have Saturdays free. So . . .’ Her eyes are focused on her lap as she takes a beat. ‘Will I be able to spend the night at your apartment on Fridays?’
‘You can spend the night at my apartment every night.’
She looks up at me, a tiny smile forming on her gorgeous lips, but she doesn’t say anything. She just needed to hear me say the words aloud, whether or not she’ll actually take me up on the offer. Sometimes, you just have to reassure the ones you love in precise language that you’ll always be there. Sometimes words are enough.
*****
We manage to pack our suitcases in less than ten minutes and the bellman drags them across the path they’ve cleared in front of the hotel so we’re back in the car by 8:06 a.m. The driver stuffs everything into the trunk and we head for the airport. The first thought that hits me as the car drives away from the hotel is how much has changed since Mikki and I got into a cab outside Terminal B on Monday morning.
She drops her purse onto the floor then lies back with her head in my lap. ‘I can see inside your nostrils from here.’
‘See anything that interests you?’
‘Ew.’ She tries to act disgusted, but she’s still smiling. ‘I’m hungry, but we don’t have time to stop for anything. I guess I’ll have to eat airplane food.’
‘Looking inside my nostrils made you hungry?’
She smacks my chest. ‘I’m serious.’
‘I’ll ask the flight attendant to donate my food to the little people in coach.’
‘Ooh, so generous. You’re like Brad Pitt. You’re hot and you love poor people.’
‘If we get to the gate in time, I’ll grab you something to eat on the concourse.’ I trace my fingertip over her bottom lip and she puckers up. ‘I can’t let you go hungry.’
She grabs my hand and lays it on the side of her face, then she closes her eyes for the last five minutes of the ride to the airport. I wish I knew what she’s thinking. What I do know is that she loves me. The girl who was planning to kill herself five days ago. The girl who saved my life. The girl I killed for. The girl I’d give my life for. She loves me and all the blackness inside me.
The driver unloads our luggage while Crush gets a Smarte Carte so we can zip through the terminal. We already checked in for our flight online. All we have to do is get our bags checked and head straight to security. But as soon as we enter the terminal and see the line of people waiting at the check-in counter, we realize it’s not going to be so simple.
‘Holy shit. It looks worse than when we were here Monday.’
Crush pushes our luggage cart to the back of the line as I crane my neck to view the length at the first-class check-in counter.
‘There are only a few people at the first-class counter. You can check your bag and go ahead of me. You’re the one who needs to make the flight, not me.’
Just saying this aloud makes me want to cry for two reasons. First, because I don’t want to think about how much it will hurt to know the flight, and Crush, took off without me. And second, because I’m not the same person I was five days ago when I was desperate to make that flight.
‘I’m not leaving without you, so just get that thought out of your head. But I’m going to go stand in the first-class line and see if they’ll allow me to check your bags at the same time. I’ll be right back.’
It’s painful watching him walk away, even with the knowledge that he will be back soon. I don’t know if it’s dangerous to need someone this much. Did I just swap one drug for another? I don’t think I even want to know the answer to that question. I don’t want it to taint my mind with doubts. If love is a drug, then it’s the kind that should be prescribed.
I drag my suitcase a few inches forward every minute or so until Crush rushes toward me with a smile on his face. ‘Come on. They’re gonna check your bag.’
Once my suitcase is checked, we race to the security line, which is about a hundred feet away. A stern TSA officer checks our boarding passes to make sure we’re at the right checkpoint, then he waves me toward the long line of harried travelers.
‘You’re pre-check. You can go to the front of the line,’ the officer says to Crush and he instantly turns to me, a guilty look washing over his face.
I turn away from him to look at the line of approximately fifty people waiting to be screened. This line splits off into four lines of passengers dumping their belongings onto conveyor belts.
‘Go ahead,’ I say, pushing him ahead of me.
‘Other side,’ the officer says to Crush, pointing at the other side of the line with absolutely no people on the other side of the cordon.
I push him toward the other line. ‘Maybe you can make them stop the plane for me. Go!’
He kisses my forehead then ducks under the cordon. ‘If they can’t wait for you, I’m not leaving. See you soon.’
I sigh as I watch him leave, ignoring the angry looks from the six or seven passengers queuing behind me. Then I trudge toward the back of the line and wait. It takes about twenty minutes to get to the front of the line. The whole time I’m placing my purse, shoes, and coat on the conveyor, I keep hoping that the ring in my lip won’t earn me a pat-down.
When I make it through the body scanner, the woman holds up her blue-gloved hand for me to wait. My heart pounds, looking on anxiously as she stares at the screen to my left.
She glances at my lips then waves me past. ‘Go ahead.’
I quickly gather my belongings off the conveyor and dump them onto a small table where I can shakily put on my boots without the annoyed looks of the other travelers. I drape my coat over my arm, sling my purse across my body, and take one last glance at the gate number on my boarding pass before I race to gate thirty-four.
The smell of food instantly makes me hungrier as I pass a seafood restaurant at the end of the corridor. Then I turn left and find another short corridor with a gift shop and frozen yogurt shop. Racing past them, I follow the sign to take another left toward gate thirty-four and I nearly bump right into Crush as I take the turn.
‘What happened? Did you miss the flight?’
‘It’s been pushed back an hour.’ I throw my arms around his neck and he laughs. ‘Don’t get too excited. This weather is shit and they’re hoping there won’t be any more delays, but they’re not sure.’
I let go of his neck and shrug. ‘I’m not happy because of the flight. I’m happy because now I have time to eat.’
*****
Crush gets us both a breakfast sandwich and an orange juice at the Dunkin Donuts kiosk. We sit in gate thirty-four eating our breakfast while I try desperately not to appear too nervous. But it doesn’t take long for Crush to notice something is wrong.
‘I can’t believe I never asked you this before. Is this your first time flying.’
I shake my head. ‘No. I went to Mexico on a family vacation when I was thirteen.’
‘Are you afraid of flying?’ He places his hand on my knee to stop my leg from bouncing up and down nervously.
‘A little. I read a lot and I was reading about the probability of getting in a plane crash.’ He shakes his head in dismay. ‘I know it’s almost impossible. What I’m trying to say is that I ended up stumbling upon all these investigation reports on various plane crashes and I found a few where the cause of the crash was never determined.’
‘What are you trying to say?’
He glances at the person seated on my
other side, probably to see if she can hear what we’re talking about. It’s probably an unspoken rule that it’s bad luck to talk about plane crashes while sitting in an airport. I’m not a superstitious person, so if she doesn’t like it, she can move.
‘I’m trying to say that the odds of being in a plane crash are low, but . . . apparently, there is no way to know if you’ll be in a plane crash. Even if conditions are perfect. Great weather. New airplane. Plenty of fuel. Experienced flight staff. There are just some plane crashes that can’t be avoided or explained.’
Shit. I probably sound like a crazy person right now. I wrap the paper around my half-eaten breakfast sandwich, my fingers shaking profusely. Crush takes the sandwich from my hands and gets up to throw it away for me. When he sits back down, he grabs my hand and brings it to his lips.
‘At least if we go down, we go down together.’
Moments later, they begin calling people by groups to board the plane. Crush is in group one, but he insists on waiting to board with me and the rest of the cattle in group four. When they call my group, I’m surprised to find that I’m not really anxious anymore. I pull out my boarding pass and hand it to the lady at the counter. She scans it and hands it back and I wait for Crush to get his pass scanned before we head through the jet bridge.
The bridge is enclosed, but the air inside the bridge is cold enough for my breath to steam and my nose to start aching as we wait in line for people to board ahead of us. I rub my hands together, almost contemplating pulling the gloves out of my purse, but we’re only about four bodies away from entering the plane. Once we’re inside, Crush asks the flight attendant if he can give me his first-class seat and I smack his arm.
‘I don’t want it.’ I turn to the woman who looks confused. ‘He’s just trying to be nice.’
She smiles at me. ‘If any seats open up near you, you two are welcome to move around so you can sit next to each other. Just make sure you do it quickly.’
I set off toward my seat: 25B. I’m relieved to find I’m next to the window and there’s no one seated in the aisle. I take the aisle-seat and grab my phone out of my purse before I sit down. I’m about to text Crush when I see he’s already texted me.
Crush: Seat next to the guy behind me was canceled this morning. I just switched rows. Come on up to first class, baby.
Oh, how I love that man. I wait until everyone is seated, then I grab my purse and head quickly toward the first-class cabin. When I get there, the blonde flight attendant smiles at me as I take the aisle-seat next to Crush.
‘What did you do, hand her a thousand-dollar bill or something?’ I whisper to him as I fasten my seatbelt.
‘She couldn’t resist my smile.’
I don’t bother asking for the real story. I pull my phone out of my purse and text Meaghan.
Me: Taking off soon to L.A. I’ll call you when we get there. Love you.
Meaghan: I’ve been rereading AGAIN. Is it possible for a book to get better on the hundredth read? Tell your boyfriend I said thanks. Ttyl. Love ya.
I tuck the phone in my pocket and the pilot soon comes over the speaker to make an announcement.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your patience. We apologize for the slight delay this morning. It’s going to be another fifteen minutes or so as the maintenance crew does one last check on the oil levels, then we will be set to go. Thank you for flying with us.’
Crush laces his fingers through mine and I turn to him. ‘If this plane crashes, thank you for saving me and for killing someone for me.’
He laughs nervously as a male flight attendant walks by at this very moment. ‘You’re welcome.’
The flight attendant turns on a safety video and I give it my full attention. This aircraft is equipped with two safety slides, which can also be used as life rafts . . . Pull the strap to tighten the belt and pull down on the tab to inflate the vest . . . Put on your mask before helping others.
The pilot’s voice comes on again after the video and I squeeze Crush’s hand. ‘Flight attendants, cross-check and prepare for takeoff.’
The plane bumps along as it taxis to the runway and it’s almost lulling me to