Beautiful Boy

by Leddy Harper

  And I prayed she’d be able to get the chance.

  I sent her a text letting her know I’d give her directions the next day. I didn’t want her to have the opportunity to research it beforehand. And then I took my shower before bed.

  All night, visions of Novah consumed my sub-consciousness. Particularly, the way her lips melded into mine. For years, I’d held that memory close to me, understanding it’d been the only time in my life I ever felt purpose. Her lips eradicated the image everyone else saw in me. I hadn’t been the son of Senator Richards. I wasn’t the star quarterback or prom king. I was simply Nolan. And keeping her memory in the forefront of my mind had prevented me from becoming lost in the ever-growing images, each one replacing the ones prior: the recruit, the hero, the killer, the savior…the wounded survivor.

  And even now, years later, her kisses did something to me. They held the power to strip me bare, leave me raw, and offer me false hope. They also protected me, covered me with warmth, and led me to believe hope wasn’t wrong, it wasn’t bad, and it wasn’t far from my reach.

  All my life leading up to the moment her lips had touched mine for the very first time, I’d felt lost and confused. I’d never been given the opportunity to discover who I was, or what my purpose had been in life. But one kiss from Novah, and she’d embedded herself so deeply into me, I knew our purpose would surpass high school.

  The high her lips offered had stayed with me for a few days before the ground opened up beneath me. It had swallowed me whole, spinning me into a whirlwind of confusion deeper than any I’d ever experienced before.

  But now that I was back, and Novah was within reach, instead of righting my axis, her presence only succeeded in spinning me in the opposite direction, dizzying my already existing chaos.

  It felt as if I’d been moving backward while everything around me paced left to right. And then Novah spun me around, setting me on a forward path, except now, the world moved right to left.

  I understood my confusion had more to do with me instead of her, but I still deeply yearned for the direction she could offer. I knew if anyone could settle the unbalanced disorder around me, it would be Novah Johnson. She’d done it once before—if only briefly—and I had unquestionable faith she could do it again. However, my inability to lower my defenses and let her in left me unsettled.

  For the first time in years, my mind stayed at rest for the remainder of the night. Not once did I wake in a cold sweat. I dreamt of nothing but Novah and her touch. There were no bombs in my dreams, no bodies or bloodshed. The unforgiving rumbles of a helicopter were replaced with the whisper-soft sound of Novah’s sharp inhalation seconds before my mouth covered hers for the first time. And instead of waking to phantom pains in a leg I no longer had, I found myself conscious yet unable to open my eyes, wishing my dreams would last just a little bit longer.

  Eight

  I had a full day of work, but it wasn’t enough to stop my mind from drifting to my plans for the evening. For years, I’d been trained to operate on autopilot, mindlessly preforming tasks without an ounce of thought, which proved to be handy in times like these when I couldn’t seem to get my head in the game.

  My administrative position in the company helped, but it didn’t mean I had a frivolous job. I had an entire crew to manage, schedules to write, positions to secure. I had a company to run. I couldn’t very well spend every day with my mind so muddled in thoughts of Novah or my plans to see her. I knew I had to do something—and quick before the last relevant thing in my life fell through the cracks and joined everything else in the pit of nothingness.

  Five o’clock didn’t come fast enough. I knew this would be my one shot to make it or break it. Depending on what she could offer me, I’d either dismiss her and move on with my life like I had been doing until a few days ago, or I’d give in and allow her to attempt the reconstruction of the broken pieces of my existence. One thing was for sure, though, I couldn’t live every day like this one—with my mind lost in her, my thoughts consumed with the various scenarios of our evening, or the constant watch over the clock.

  I waited until it was time to leave before texting her, giving her the address of where to meet me, along with the helpful tip to wear something she wouldn’t mind getting dirty. She never replied, and I began to worry she wouldn’t show. But then I pushed that fear down, knowing if she decided not to meet me, it would be for the best. I’d get my answer one way or another, no matter what her decision would be.

  Once I made it to the junkyard, a new fear attacked my nervous system. I found Novah waiting for me, leaning against the hood of her car, and the reality of what might occur left me unsettled.

  Being the tortured soul home from war, only to face a bleak existence, had been my only identity for so long, but without it…I had nothing. So I’d found myself clinging to the emptiness, scared of what I’d be without it. Because in my mind, letting it go didn’t mean it’d be replaced with the opposite. No. It’d be replaced with absolutely nothing. And if I had nothing…I’d have even less to live for than I do now.

  And that’s what scared me—giving her the opportunity to strip me of the only thing I had left, even if it was only desolation.

  “Tell me something, Nolan,” she said as she made her way over to me, dressed in a pair of sweats and a T-shirt. She had her hair pulled away from her face in a simple ponytail, and her skin had been washed clean of makeup. It actually made me question if she’d gone to work this way, but I didn’t bother to ask. “Do you really want me to show you what the world has to offer, or are you trying to dispute my credibility? Because, I have to be honest with you, this is starting to feel like a test.”

  I refrained from meeting her halfway, deciding instead to remain next to my car, observing the harsh creases in her brow and the way her gaze narrowed as she neared me. Even angry—or offended—she was attractive. Wearing nothing but ratty house clothes, she made me feel like a boy falling in love for the first time.

  “I told you I’d help you any way I can. You asked me to show you something you’ve become blinded to, but I refuse to waste my time if this is nothing more than your way of remaining stubbornly ignorant to what I have to offer.”

  I fingered a piece of blond hair that had fallen next to her face and then placed it behind her ear. I turned my full attention to her wide eyes. It seemed as though my affection threw her off balance and left her jaw gaping in bewilderment.

  “I won’t lie…this is somewhat of a test. But it’s not what you’re thinking. I honestly want to see what you do. I want to view the world—and myself—through your eyes, but I’m still unsure if I can. And the only way to know is if I test it. So, this isn’t to question you or your abilities…it’s to see if I have what it takes.”

  “What it takes for what?” Her soft words gently blew across my face like an easy summer breeze, warm and touching me everywhere.

  I grabbed her hand and held onto it like it was my last lifeline. I stared unwaveringly into her blue-green eyes, noticing how she never once broke eye contact, even to blink. “What it takes to be the man you see when you look at me. The person you see in my eyes. The man worthy of you instead of the boy who broke you.”

  She took a step back and dropped her gaze to our feet. After a quick breath, she glanced up, but not at me. Instead, her attention darted around the piles of metal and broken pieces of equipment around us.

  “I take it when you look around here, all you see is junk? Trash? Garbage?” She gestured to the narrow dirt path weaving through the piles of debris, pointing to the things surrounding us on either side of yard.

  “It’s a junkyard, Novah. Hence the name.”

  Her attention snapped back to me, her eyes boring into mine. “Does this place disgust you? Turn you off in any way?”

  “Why would I ask you to meet me here if it disgusted me? Do I think it’s junk? Sure. Does it repulse me? Absolutely not. I think it’s a yard full of things that once held value, things people once c
onsidered precious. But because of a wreck, or time, or weather, these things have lost their use, lost their meaning to the ones who had thought so highly of them at one point.

  “Look around…cars, which were probably owned by rich people for the sole purpose of flaunting their wealth, lie in crumpled heaps alongside mini vans once used to cart kids back and forth to soccer practices. Now they’re nothing but useless mounds of metal, sitting out here collecting dirt and rust. The people who had owned these vehicles are now off driving newer models, ones without dents and scratches or pinging beneath the hoods.”

  Novah didn’t say anything to me, no remark or argument against my claim. She simply walked away from me and slowly made her way into the yard while holding her phone in front of her. She stopped a few times, tilted her head from side to side, adjusted her stance, and took pictures, all while saying nothing as I followed.

  Eventually, I stopped paying attention to her and began meandering through the piles of junk alone, growing lost in the eerie silence that had enveloped the yard.

  By the time the sun had fallen behind the horizon, leaving the sky varying shades of burnt orange and blood red, I’d found myself standing in front of a Ford station wagon, which appeared to have been from the sixties. The color was almost unrecognizable due to the lack of paint and abundance of rust, but I could tell by a few spots around the faux wood paneling that it had once been blue. And it didn’t look as if it’d been there long because it hadn’t been stripped of its parts yet.

  The crunching of gravel beneath shoes behind me alerted me of her presence, but I paid it no mind as my thoughts drifted back in time when things were good. I ran my finger over the side mirror and across the door to the handle, much like I used to do all the time as a kid. Except back then, my fingertip would slide easily over the clear coat instead of flaking off bits of rust along the way. Soft clicks from Novah’s phone camera sounded in the distance. I pulled open the door, slid inside, and took in how well the interior had been kept.

  I closed the door, effectively blocking her out.

  But then the passenger door creaked open, and as it closed, my memories vanished. I glanced to the side and found Novah in the seat next to me, watching me closely with a steely posture and inquisitive eyes.

  “My grandfather used to own one of these when I was younger. I was just a kid, but I remember it so vividly…like it was only yesterday. I used to ride into town with him as he ran his errands.”

  “You were close to him?” Her question was soft and timid, but I could tell she cared very much about my response, eagerly listening to what I had to say.

  “My dad’s parents lived very far away, so I was never around them much growing up. And my grandma on my mom’s side had suffered a massive stroke when I was a baby, so she never left the house and had at-home care. Until I was ten, I spent every summer with my grandpa. I’d help him around the yard and go into town with him. I don’t think he really needed to go to that many stores, but he’d take me. Probably to get me out of the house and away from my grandma’s bedside.

  “When I was in the house, I’d sit with her, because even though she couldn’t go anywhere or really talk, I wanted as much time with her as I could have in order to make memories. My mom used to tell me that when I was born, my grandmother had doted on me and bragged to all her friends about how perfect her grandson was. And I wanted to have lasting memories with her, even if they weren’t the kind most kids had. We’d watch movies or play checkers. She couldn’t move her right arm, and had very little control over her left, but she did have enough to point to her pieces and direct me to where she wanted to go. I’d tell her stories of my days, fishing with Granddad and learning how to drive his tractor, and her eyes would light up as she listened.”

  “Why did your visits stop when you were ten?”

  “My dad won the senate seat and we moved. My grandfather passed away two years later, and my grandmother followed him six months after that.”

  Novah placed her hand over mine on the bench seat between us. Her touch was warm and comforting, which calmed me enough to meet her gaze.

  “I think I’ve been lost ever since.”

  Her throat moved as she swallowed, and then she intertwined her fingers with mine, tightening her grip on my hand. “Maybe you need to find yourself before you can be found by anyone else.”

  I shook my head, emotion clogging my throat and preventing me from speaking. And then, out of nowhere, it began to rain. It started with slow, fat drops hitting the windshield hard, sounding more like rocks than water. Then it fell harder, faster, pummeling against the glass like rapid-fired bullets. The windows immediately began to fog, isolating us in the otherwise quiet car.

  “Fucking Florida and its damn summertime rain.” I rested my head against the back of the seat, staring up at the falling fabric hanging loosely from the headliner. “If there’s one thing worse than having a fake leg, it’s having a rusted leg.”

  “Had you never shown me, I would’ve never guessed you had a prosthetic leg. It’s completely undetectable by the way you move. I’m actually rather impressed.” She shifted in her seat, angling her body toward mine.

  I rolled my head and faced her, noticing her relaxed features as she patiently watched me. “I guess that’s what you get when you have a guilt-ridden father with deep pockets. His love for me is proven by how expensive my artificial leg is and how much my therapist charges.”

  “Why is he guilt ridden?”

  A snorted chuckle erupted as I rolled my eyes and shook my head. I moved my attention to the steering wheel, picked at the emblem in the center, and contemplated my answer.

  “It was my punishment for what I did to you.”

  “I don’t understand…”

  “He made me enlist in the Army. Except, what he’d expected to be a few years on a base somewhere turned out to be something completely different. September Eleventh changed everything. And instead of doing my time and getting out, I was shipped off to war.”

  Her gasp trapped the air in my lungs and formed a burning ache in the pit of my stomach. But I kept my focus on the steering wheel, not taking the chance to witness her expression.

  “This happened to you…because of me?”

  There it was. I’d had the same accusation living inside me for years, always placing the blame on Novah. But hearing her shaky words as she voiced my own thoughts made me cringe at the absurdity.

  “It’s not like you suggested the Army as my penitence. You never asked me to take those pictures or develop them. It wasn’t your fault the guys on the team were immature enough to steal them, and then hand them out at school. And I think it’s a safe bet to assume you had nothing to do with our country going to war. So really, Novah, how could any of this be your fault?”

  Her silence forced me to give in and glance at her. I hoped I could quickly catch something from her expression and turn away again, but it’s not what happened. The moment my eyes locked with her tear-filled gaze, I froze. My throat burned with the taste of acid rising from the pit of my stomach. The deep remorse in her wide, panicked eyes caused my gut to twist and turn with agony.

  “Novah…this wasn’t your fault.” I actually believed it, and the realization stunned me. After pointing the finger at her for so long, I think I had somehow convinced myself of it. But sitting here now with regret emanating from her like heat from a fire, I no longer believed it to be true. She wasn’t to blame, and it was about time I set the record straight.

  “I know…but it doesn’t make me feel any better. I assumed you were traveling the world, living off your dad’s dime in the lap of luxury. I hated you for skipping out and leaving me to deal with the fallout. God, Nolan…I never expected this. This entire time, my hatred for you has been completely misplaced. None of this should’ve ever happened.”

  “If it’s any consolation, I spent years hating you, too.” I paused and waited for the defensive confusion to cross her face, but it never did. Instead, sh
e nodded as if she understood, or even possibly agreed. “After the accident, I turned the blame on a lot of people—people who never deserved my hatred. So trust me, I get it.”

  “Can you talk about what happened? If not, I get it. But I’d like to know about your life after you left school.”

  I shrugged as if it were no big deal, when inside, my nerves were so fried it seemed like my organs were convulsing. No matter how many shrinks my dad had sent me to, I never spoke to any of them. I never opened up to my parents, or even the group at the VA clinic. Not even my brothers in arms could pull the images from my mind. But one look from Novah, one simple question, and I wanted to tell her everything.

  “I’d just finished with basic when the towers were attacked. I remember thinking my life would never be the same again.” I swallowed harshly and then dropped my gaze to our hands, gently swiping my thumb over her smooth skin. “I remember thinking I might not ever see you again.”

  “After what happened between us, why would you ever want to see me again?”

  I pulled her hand to my lips and placed a soft kiss on her knuckles. “At the time, I wanted to apologize to you, get a chance to explain. I needed you to forgive me.”

  Novah got to her knees and moved even closer to me. She sat hesitantly at my side, and when my eyes refused to meet hers, she crawled into my lap and straddled my thighs with the steering wheel at her back. Her small hands held my jaw with her fingers spreading out across my face, forcing me to meet her somber gaze.

  “I forgive you.”

  I leaned forward, trapping her chest against mine, and attacked her lips. Her warmth filled me, igniting an inferno deep in the pit of my stomach. My arms wrapped protectively around her waist while she maintained her hold on my face, our bodies pressed firmly together. I swear I could hear her heart beating inside her chest, pounding against mine as if our hearts were trying to meet—collide.