by Peiri Ann
“But anyway, when I was walking in the room, Scott was right behind me. He scared the shit out of me, but I didn’t push him away. I didn’t want to. I guess I wanted him to be there.” She shrugs. “We walked into the room and I kind of attacked him. I pulled him as close to me as I possibly could.
“I kissed him like he was my husband who was lost at sea and had just come home after years of being away. It didn’t take him by surprise, and he was into it. I straddled him on Andrew’s bed and almost had sex with him.” She pauses and gives me a look of disbelief. “But he stopped me. Mr. Safety Scott.”
I chuckle, feeling half-shocked and half in disbelief. “Yeah, Andrew told me where you were and I went to check on you. I saw Scott holding you and both of you asleep.” Remembering the snowflake under her eye, I move to look at the right side of her face, unnoticeably. It now looks like a funny-shaped star.
I don’t think I should mention it—or maybe I should.
“We were asleep. And it was a good sleep. Everything was perfect, Tracey.” She looks down, hiding the hurt in her eyes. “He woke up first and woke me up, pissed. I was so sick and hurt. He was beating himself up, saying how this shouldn’t have happened and that it was a mistake. And he looked at me with the most violent look. Scared the hell out of me.”
My breathing is steady as I listen to Glen’s story. I decide I’m not going to say anything about the star. Why would he give in—and he is definitely giving in—then rebel like that? Is this what Nathan meant by no control? Is Mr. AllAboutBusiness unable to separate the good from the bad within himself?
“I don’t know, Glen. Maybe he just isn’t ready for a relationship, or doesn’t know what he wants.” I don’t know what else to say.
I really want to tell her that I think he’s losing it because he’s fighting the want he has for her and it’s making him lose control of himself. Not to mention the fact that they are meant to be together and he knows that, but he’s willing to give up everything they have because of his stupidity. But Nathan said not to say anything.
“Well, I just can’t un—” She doesn’t finish, looking over my shoulder. I look too. Nathan and Scott are re-approaching. Her voice lowers so only I can hear her. “Don’t say what I told you.” I nod, knowing Scott had heard her. Based on what Nathan said, Scott’s in her head too.
“Come on, Tracey. Let’s let Scott and Glen talk.” Nathan takes my hand. I’m relieved and happy to be feeling his touch. “Scott, my car is parked down the street.” Car? He takes some keys from his pocket and tosses them to Scott. “If you leave, I’ll find a way to get back.”
Scott says nothing, catching the keys. He looks at Glen, nodding his head towards the street, as a way of telling her to come on. They don’t touch, but Glen is walking really close to him.
“What happened, and what car?” I ask, turning from them.
Nathan wraps me in his arms with my back to his chest. He leans back and kisses the center of the back of my neck. “I have a car too. And we’ll talk about that when we wake back up.” He gently pushes me towards my house. “The sun is almost up. Go see if your mom is awake. Just look out the window and let me know. I’ll let myself in if she’s not.”
Not answering him, I turn towards the patio doors, taking another glance at Glen and Scott. He slowly reaches out and grabs her hand. I smile to myself. What is up with Scott?
Go, Tracey.
Right. I walk in the house, making sure I lock the doors and close the blinds. Upstairs, I go to my mother’s room, which is on the opposite end of the hall as mine. Her door is closed, which usually means she is still asleep. Looking at the hall clock, it reads 6:23 AM.
I yawn, rubbing my eyes, as I quickly walk back to my room. Just now realizing how tired I am.
He is already there, standing inside by my window, waiting for me. “Took you long enough.”
“When we wake back up, you’re going to tell me about that too.” I close and lock my door.
I walk to the bed and he meets me there. “Anything you want, beautiful.” He lays us down. And, once again, I snuggle myself against him.
I awaken, alone in my bed, wrapped in my comforter. The sun is shining brightly through my window, indicating it’s after twelve. I look around my room, knowing I wasn’t alone when I went to sleep. Then it hits me.
He’s gone. Why? Panic rises in me. Why would he leave me? Where did he go?
Was I dreaming? No, it felt so real. I felt him here. His lips, his arms, his body, his voice—it was all here. And real. Could I really be that delusional over him, that I would imagine something so realistic? My chest starts to ache—worse than the pain I had felt before.
The ache is unbearable. I lean over in agony, grabbing my knees to my chest, trying to suppress the pain. It becomes worse the more I try to make it stop or to not focus on it. It is the only thing I am aware of.
I cry out against the pain. I can’t fight it any longer. It takes me over, cutting off my breath. I try to scream again, but there is no sound, or I can’t hear it.
A warm breeze blows through my room from the afternoon air. There is a soft thud and then hands on my face, lips on my lips. And then a body to my body.
His calm fills me, like a rushing river flowing into open land. I let out a sigh of relief, thankful the pain is subsiding. He doesn’t say anything, just holds me. Soon my muscles relax and my clenched jaw loosens.
“What’s wrong?” He rubs my neck, soothing me.
“I don’t know. I lost it.”
He becomes quiet.
“Don’t do that.”
“Well, tell me what, so I won’t,” he says calmly.
“You were gone, I woke up, and it hurt.” Something like that.
“It hurt?”
Knowing he’s in my head, I remember the feeling and why it happened, showing him. “It hurt.” He doesn’t respond, continuing to rub my neck. I lay on him for a while, comforted by the feeling of his relaxing touch and presence. I close my eyes, drifting off.
He wakes me with a kiss to my temple. He’s sitting with his back against the wall and I’m in his chest. He wears a smile that doesn’t look real.
“What’s wrong?”
The smile disappears. “We need to go.”
“Where?”
“Scott’s house.”
“Why?”
He raises that smoothly-laid eyebrow. “Why are you asking so many questions?”
“I want to know.”
“Go get in the shower and get some clothes on. I’ll be waiting outside.”
Standing from the bed, I stretch. “What time is it?”
He stares at me before answering. “A little after three.” Wow, I was tired. “Yeah, you were.” I give him an irritated look. He continues, “You waking up, screaming, earlier, scared the shit out of me. Almost made me break my phone, trying to rush back here to see if you were okay. Felt like my heart was cutting itself out of my chest.” He shakes his head. “I told you I wasn’t going anywhere. What would make you think I did?”
I feel bad. “I woke up and you weren’t here. I didn’t have time to think. Seemed like my body just took over everything.”
“Trust me, Tracey. I’m not going anywhere.” He pulls me by my arm, moving faster than my eyes can see. Within the next second, I’m back lying across him. He makes eye-contact, eyes that are green and brown that I’m starting to grow familiar with, looking back at me intently. “I’m not going anywhere,” he confirms.
I stare back at him, not wanting to move. I really want to go back to sleep.
“Come on, Tracey. Get up and brush your teeth, wash your face, wash your ass. We need to go see Scott and check on Glen. Make sure he didn’t kill her.” He laughs.
My eyes widen. “Not funny.”
“You’re right.” Moving me from his lap, he scoots off the bed. Putting on his shoes, he says, “Don’t take too long and leave me waiting outside for long.”
“I’ll be down very shortly.” I
watch him tie his shoes. “Can I kiss you?”
He looks at me as if I’m starting something. “Because you are. But I will not deny you or tell you no.”
He stands and moves to me quickly, placing one kiss on my lips, then he’s out the window—all in less than two seconds.
“Such a freaking tease.”
You like it.
You can say that.
8: Impatient
I shower, brush my teeth, and dress in record time. I dress in all-black jeans and an orange t-shirt. My shirt has black writing on it that says ‘Stop Looking at Me’ across the back with a picture of a hot biker chick. It matches my Nikes that I bought at the mall the other day.
My mom’s door is now open, but she isn’t here. She must have left. Now I have the house to myself and we have to leave. Damn you, life.
Nathan is leaning against the passenger side of my car, looking at his phone. “You spend a lot of time looking in your phone.”
“I told you, I have a lot going on sometimes.”
“Like what?” I ask, unlocking the doors.
“Remember what I told you last night?”
“Yes, some of it.” I remember all of it, but I don’t want to think about it right now.
“With things like that, you always need to be available in case you are needed. Family checks on you frequently, and there is always new information coming up.”
That seems understandable. It doesn’t bother me; I was just curious. “Umm, okay.” I start the car and pull out of the drive. He’s back in his phone. “Can I ask you a question?”
He gives me his attention. “Sure.”
“How often do you get mad?”
I wait, because he doesn’t answer immediately. He takes a deep breath. “I used to get mad all the time, but just because I get pissed, it doesn’t mean I go dark. Like I told you last night, I have a lot of control.”
“Why would you get mad?”
“Because my family tried to control me and wouldn’t let me be who I was—burdened.”
“You wanted to be like that?” I ask in distaste.
“I wouldn’t say that, but I was rebellious. I didn’t like the name and meaning behind what I am, but I had no desire to change it. I also didn’t want someone to make me into what I wasn’t. A couple of decades ago, I stopped fighting, thanks to Scott. He helped me realize the importance of not being what I am. The importance of overcoming the urge to do what the other half of me wanted. It wasn’t until the day I met you that I realized they weren’t training me and trying to change me for me, but for you.”
“You figured this out the day you met me?” I ask.
“Something like that. More like when I hit you. But when I grabbed you, helped you to stand, and you looked at me, I knew you were mine.” He looks around. “I think you passed Scott’s house.”
Checking my surroundings, I realize I did. I shake my head. “I wasn’t paying attention to the road.” Driving to the corner, I turn around. “Sorry.”
He makes a throaty chuckle. “It’s the red, brick house.”
“Yeah.” It has been a long time since I’ve been over here, but I still recognize the house. We all used to hang around here when we were in grade school. We had a lot of fun when we were kids.
“Don’t pull in the driveway. Park in front of that 550 right there.” He points to a silver car in front of me on the other side of the driveway.
I do as he instructed, and shut off the car. His head is back in his phone. I try not to be nosey, but it looks like he’s texting.
“You can be nosey, Tracey.” He looks at me with a raised eyebrow and crooked smile. “Ask me whatever you want, and go through whatever you want.”
I look away. “Stop doing that.”
“If you could do it to me, read my thoughts, would you?”
Probably, but I can’t. “I don’t know.”
“Be honest.”
“Maybe, but I can’t, so it’s not fair.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t help it. I like being in your head.” His phone vibrates in his hand. He gives it back his attention. “Come on, we’re going in my car.”
“Where are we going?”
“I’m going to take us out.”
“Us?”
“Yeah, you, me, Scott, and Glen.”
“Why?”
“You don’t want to go out with me?”
“Yes, you! Not us!”
“Now, you told me to show him you and me, and that he and Glen can work it out, like we are. And I’m trying to do that. We have a long time, Tracey, to spend as much time as you want together and do whatever you want together.” He nods his head towards the window. “But now we have to make sure my cousin doesn’t kill your friend because he can’t control himself.” He gets out, bringing his phone to his ear.
He starts to ramble on the phone as he closes the door. I need two seconds of ‘me time.’ We do not want Scott to kill Glen. This is a good idea, Tracey. I’m doing this for Glen, not Scott. And this was my idea. Why was this my idea? Right—because Glen will be in extreme pain if she separates from Scott.
Getting out of the car, I see Scott and Glen walking out of the house together. Glen’s smiling and Scott looks like he is stuck in-between emotions. But they look cute together. He must have taken her home to get some clothes, because she has on a different outfit.
“Tracey,” Nathan calls. “I’m going to run into the house to wash and change quickly. I’ll be right back.” I look at him sadly. “You could always come with me.” I try to hold back my smile, failing badly.
Now you’re trying to get something started, I think to him.
Nah, not yet. I’ll be right back. Fifteen minutes tops. I nod in understanding.
Glen rushes over to me, and Scott follows Nathan back in the house.
“You feeling better?” I ask her, before she can start rambling about Nathan staying at my house “You look better.”
“Yeah, I mean, Scott’s still being an ass. But sometimes he’s okay. It’s like he’s fighting his feelings.” We move to sit on the trunk of my car. “One moment he’s like, ‘Oh Glen,’ and wanting to touch and kiss me. Then the next, he’s like, ‘Don’t, Glen.’” Her voice is deep, trying to imitate Scott.
I laugh at her. She has her face all twisted up and moving her head left to right as she imitates him. It is a very bad impersonation, but it serves its purpose. “So did you all come back here when y’all left my house?”
“Yeah, his mom and his dad weren’t here, still aren’t here, so we laid around his living room, never going to his bedroom.” She shakes her head. “I laid on the couch and he sat on the floor. From time to time he would touch my hand or hold it. I eventually fell asleep. I’m not sure if he did or not, because every time I woke up, he was looking me in my face. He wouldn’t look away until I would say ‘what?’ and then he would shake his head, turn around, and say, ‘nothing.’”
She takes a moment and stretches her arms over her head. “He is starting to kill me with this. What did you and Nathan end up doing?” I don’t like her saying his name. She sounds too comfortable. I ignore the feeling it brings. That’s something I’m going to need to get used to.
“Nothing. Slept.” This morning.
“Really? You and him didn’t do anything?”
“Umm, no. I just met him last week, Glen. I’m not a slut, like some people.” I peek at her through the corner of my eyes. She pushes me—hard. I catch myself from almost falling off the car. It hurt.
Tracey! I jump from the sudden sound of Nathan in my head. I’m never going to get used to that.
Yes? I sing in my mind.
What are doing? Is she hurting you? What was that? he asks, in a serious tone. It makes me turn serious.
Nothing. She was just joking around. Damn. He felt her pushing me?
Yes, I felt it. And I didn’t like it. Stop joking. Wow, what was he feeling?
Are you upset? I think to him.
I
hear him let out a soft sigh in my head. No, Tracey, I’m not upset. Something hurt you and my body reacted in a protective way. Sorry, he answers, in a softer tone.
Got it. Hurry up! You almost finished?
Yes, give me eight more minutes.
Okay.
“Um, Tracey?” Glen sings my name.
“Yes,” I carry out.
“Can you hear me? I’m talking to you and you’re zoning out.” She looks irritated.
“I’m sorry. Something just crossed my mind.”
“Like what?” Oh my gosh, Glen, I don’t know. She is such a prior.
“Scott will come around,” I swiftly say. “I told Nathan to talk to him. Maybe everything will work out.”
“How old is Nathan?”
“What?”
“What’s wrong with you? How old is Nathan?”
I think for a moment. Damn. “I don’t know.” I shrug my shoulders. I’m not sure what age he portrays. He looks like he’s about nineteen or twenty.
“Well, don’t you want to find out?”
I look at her curiously. Why does it matter how old he is, and why is she interested in knowing? She usually is not this questioning when it comes to guys who are interested in me. I become quickly irritated.
I shake my head. “No, Glen, I don’t know, and I didn’t think to ask.” I try to make it sound as kind as I can. I don’t care how old he is in a non-Sephlem world whatever that means. The thought to ask that age never crossed my mind.
“So do you like him?” Is she running out of Scott to talk about?
“Yes,” I answer smoothly. This is something I know for sure.
“Well, I hope me and Scott can get like you and Nathan. You all look happy.”
We could be happier if Scott would get his shit together. “Yeah.” I rub my fingers over my eyebrows.
“Are you tired, Tracey?”
“Yeah, why?” I ask oddly.
“You only do that eyebrow thing when you are tired or irritated.”