by Tara Brown
She laughs, “What about Sam?”
I feel my cheeks heating up. “I don’t know. You know me, nothing is going to happen with anyone.”
Mrs. Benson looks at us all and speaks in her usual dry tone, "Okay guys, we need to flip to page seven-eighty in the math books. I want everything on that page on my desk in the hour we have left. You all have final exams coming up."
I hate math. I turn to the page and look at the problems, "I wish I'd just done better in math in high school. Community college sucks butt."
Sarah groans, "Oh man. I don’t even know how to do this. I am never going to transfer into a good college."
Bastion leans over our way, "Want some help? I am here for helping." He says it sarcastically.
Sarah beams at him. My stomach twists when she giggles, "Yeah, we both suck at math."
He smiles at her, "I gathered. People who are good at it don’t usually have to take a class such as this one. Let me just get in between you two."
I move over to the desk to the right and he slides in the middle of us. He leads us through the problems, and I notice right away he is flirting with Sarah. She is touching her hair and giggling. I don’t even understand it. I would never have done that to her, not after she just finished telling me she liked him. I shake my head and feel a little sick. I can hear Maggie telling us how he was sleazy and had been eyeballing every girl at the party. I had missed it. I was dancing with Sam and trying to ignore the fact Bastion was glaring at me.
He keeps his body close to mine but angled at hers. I finish my page and walk it up to Mrs. Benson. She takes it and smiles, “Thanks.”
“I need to use the washroom, and I was thinking since I’m done I could just head over to the library.”
She nods.
“Okay.”
I leave the classroom in a hurry. My stomach feels bad. Like I've done something horribly wrong but haven’t been caught yet. The nauseating anxiety is trying to kill me. How could I have been so dumb? Of course, the only guy who would be involved with me would be a player. He was sweet to me when no one was around; that always was the worst red flag.
I round the corner and pick up my pace. I swear, I feel the wind, but I ignore it. I push my way into the bathroom and into a stall. I sit on the toilet with the lid down and suffer each flash of every moment we have spent together. I think about all of the insta-love instances I have mocked in books and movies, and how I have foolishly succumbed to my own.
It is the worst feeling I've ever had. Worse than waiting for Mary to beat me, or hiding from Mary, or waiting for Mary to scream at me. It is worse than everything all together. Worse than being a Lake.
I pout for the thirty seconds I need and head to the library to work.
Mrs. Hamilton, the librarian, gives me an odd look when I wave. I sigh and grab the cart to start shelving books. I love books. I love the smell and feel of them and the stories. I love the fact that everything in them is a lie. The curses are not real and the beasts are never as bad as you think.
I make it half an hour before my stomach is killing me and anxiety has completely taken over. The whispers and glances from the people in the library are bouncing off of the walls and shelves around me. As if it were even possible, I think they’re worse than normal. My face is red and sweaty. I hate it here. I wish the library and me were just transported somewhere far away. Or even better, into one of the books where the world doesn’t make sense and it doesn’t have to. The weak girl who is cursed finds her strength and defeats whatever monster created the curse. In this world, I know I will never be that girl. I will be the girl who runs from her curse and recreates herself.
When I can’t take one more second of the whispering, I walk back to the bathroom and sit in the stall again, desperate to be alone.
"Lynnie?" Lune is outside my stall. I didn’t even hear the bathroom door. “You in there?”
I look up at the closed metal door. I give myself one more second and then walk out of the stall and smile at Lune, "Hey. Why are you here?" Seeing her in the bathroom brings back old memories of high school—me hiding in the bathroom and her talking me down.
She looks worried, "How’s it going?"
I frown, "With what? Why are you here?"
Her face is still, like she’s waiting for it. I refuse to give in to my sadness. It’s crushing me like a weight on top of me and I can't breathe, but I refuse for anyone else to see it. If I share it with her that makes it real.
"You heard, right?"
I frown harder, "What?" God, has Bastion asked Sarah out already? How did Lune hear already? Why is she at the school? How does she know I like Bash, like a moron.
She sighs, "Oh, thank God. I got a text from Maggie and went to the library to see you, but Mrs. Hamilton said she saw you leave.” Something is wrong with the look on her face, “I assumed you came here to hide out."
She’s scaring me, "From what?"
She gulps, "That party. The wind."
I roll my eyes, "The wind?"
She pales, "It's Sam."
My stomach drops. I feel weak and sick all at once, "W-w-what happened to him?" I’m puffing my breaths out in shots of air.
She looks down, her breath matches mine, "He's sick, Erralynn."
My face is concentrated on the emotions and tears that I refuse to unleash. My breaths become the lifelines I grip to, waiting for the tears to pass. “No.”
She covers her face and shakes her head, "I'm so sorry."
I drop to my knees, "What happened?"
She shakes her head, "He just started to choke on his breakfast this morning, like he couldn’t get air. His mom rushed him to the hospital, but they couldn’t get his airways to open. So they cut a hole in his throat and he's breathing through that. He's still there."
I start rocking back and forth, "I never kissed him. I never kissed him. I never even loved him, not really. It was a crush. The curse doesn’t affect a crush. It's not fair, I didn’t do this. I swear, I never kissed him." Tears stream down my cheeks.
I cover my face and heave into my hands. She doesn’t touch me. I wish she would, but I understand why she doesn’t. I never even kissed Sam and look at him.
I tremble and sob, but I can't get a grip on what it means. The bathroom door swings open.
"Get out. This bathroom is busy." Lune shouts and kicks the door shut.
"ERRALYNN!" Bastion’s voice rings out. The door slams hard and I feel warmth surround me.
He lifts me off the ground, sweeping me up. I shake my head, "Don’t touch me." I whisper into his chest and shoulder.
"Open the door," he growls. I assume Lune obeys him, because it isn’t long before we are outside. The wind is there, checking on me like a mother would. My arms wrap around his neck but my sobs never stop. He carries me for what feels like an eternity. I hear the old gate and look around. I’m home. The tears have stopped but my eyes are train-wreck puffy and my throat hurts.
He looks at me and smiles, "You okay?"
I shake my head. He looks at my house and frowns, "Would you prefer to go somewhere else? I know a place we could go and you would be safe. I would keep you safe."
I look at the old house and shake my head again.
He walks up to the front door. Mary opens it in her muumuu. "What the bloody hell is this?" she asks with a cigarette clenched between her teeth.
"She was injured at school today. I carried her home," he speaks softly.
I try to get down but he holds me tightly.
She looks at me, “Faking hurt so you don’t have to work like the rest of the free world? Just pathetic.” She opens the door wider, "You can set her down. She can walk the rest of the way."
"No." He is firm.
I squirm, "I can walk, Bash. Thanks." I can't look at him. Not yet.
He steps into the house, "I come in with her or I take her elsewhere."
Mary flashes her dark-brown eyes at me fiercely, “Got him under your spell, harlot?”
&
nbsp; I swallow hard and lean into his chest. I can't stop the way I’m trembling.
"You gonna take her somewhere else, are ya?" She laughs at him. "She already got her devil hooks in ya, huh? Did you hear about the boy in the hospital breathing from his neck after only one kiss?"
I close my eyes. Tears drip down my cheeks silently.
She cackles and continues, "Did you hear about him? You ain’t nothing but another victim, son."
He steps up, right into her face and growls. "He had an allergic reaction, you filthy hillbilly. Any doctor worth their salt could have told the doctors here that. You small-town people with small minds have no idea what you're talking about. Now get out of my way."
She gasps and chokes on the smoke. He brushes past her and climbs the stairs and walks right up to my door. I pull the key from my skirt pocket and pass it to him. He smiles at me but I can’t meet his eyes. He turns the lock and opens the door and closes it. He lays me on the bed and kneels beside me.
"I'll not have you in there fornicating with her, she’s the devil. I'm calling the police." She bangs on the door. He scowls, standing up and storming to the door. He rips it open with such force, I swear the door has come off the hinges. He towers over her, vibrating. His voice is frightening, "You do it. You call the cops and tell them to come on down. I have some interesting bruises to show them. Bruises you gave her. I know you beat her, you old hag." He pokes into her chest hard and fast, "But that stops now. You lay a finger on her and I will kill you." He pounds on her chest with every word he speaks, "I. Will. Kill. You."
She cries out and steps back. He slams the door, seething in anger and taking deep breaths. He keeps his back turned to me. I watch his back rise and fall with his breaths, like a monster trying to gain control.
"Bash," I whisper. I almost feel sorry for Mary, almost.
He turns around, nodding, "Sorry. I just can’t stand her or anyone hurting you."
I see something on his face. It’s contorted in anger, rage. It’s creepy. He walks back to me and drops to his knees, taking my hand and wrapping his around mine.
"You should go," I whisper.
He shakes his head, "I can't go without you. Come away with me. This isn’t you, this place . . . it’s horrid."
“No, thanks.” The image of his laughing and helping Sarah is trying to overtake my brain. I feel sick about Sam. Everything is bad. I roll on my side and bury my face into my pillow.
He rubs my back.
"Just don’t touch me," I snap in a muffled voice.
"You need me, Erralynn. You need me as much as I need you."
I lift my face and shake my head, "I'm going to hurt you. Just like Sam."
He smiles, "I don’t believe in curses. I believe in anaphylaxis. I believe in allergies and insect bites. I don’t believe that kissing your cheek is what did that to him. Anyone who does believe it, is a fool."
"But they all do."
"To hell with them all then. I mean, who cares? They are beneath you."
He says the craziest things. I shake my head, "I do. I care. I have to live here for four more months. I have already lived through years of it, I can make it a few more months." I curl into a ball and try to fight the tears that stream down my cheeks.
He climbs onto the chair in the corner next to the bed. I hear it creak under his weight. His being in my room makes me feel more alone than I ever have. He is something else I can't ever have. He is added to the list.
I try to fight the sleep but I can't. The emotions have me exhausted.
I don’t dream and when I wake, the blankets are wrapped around me. There is a sound filling the room. I open an eye, seeing him passed out in the chair. His phone is vibrating in his pocket. I turn over and poke him with my foot, "Bash."
“What? What phone?” He moans and opens a grey eye.
"Your phone."
“My what? Oh yes.” He winces and reaches into his pocket. "Yes."
I can hear a girl’s voice.
"No. I'm with Lynnie right now. No, not like that. She was upset. Yes. No, she's fine now." He sighs and stretches, nodding, "Okay. I'll call when I get home. Of course. Goodbye." He hangs up the phone and I shoot daggers at him with my glare.
"What is that look for?"
I close my eyes and sigh, "Just get out."
He reaches for me, his fingers bite into my arms, "Lynnie. What is happening here?"
Tears sting my eyes. I refuse to look at him and let them free.
"What's wrong? You're doing that thing again with your face."
I open my eyes and a flood of tears drip down my cheeks, "What are you doing here?"
He looks confused, "I was worried. I mean . . . I thought Mary would come and hurt you again. So I stayed. I still think we should leave though. You should come with me."
I shake my head, "Who was the girl on the phone?”
He scowls, “Your friend, Sarah. She phoned to ask me a favor.”
I roll my eyes, “She likes you, you idiot. Are you asking her out and sleeping in my room at the same time?”
He pulls back, "What? No. Of course not. I wouldn’t date a girl like Sarah, for starters. Secondly, you and I are friends, just friends. Nothing happened."
"And it never will. Now get out."
Anger dances across his face with amusement, "No. You're being ridiculous. You're jealous and being crazy. I'm not leaving. I thought Sarah wanted help with her math. If that’s not the case, then I'm not interested in being anything else."
I roll my eyes and turn away from him, "Whatever."
I hear him playing with his phone. "Hi. Can I get a pizza delivered? What's the address here, Lynnie? Erralynn? Address?"
I give him the finger behind my back.
"Mature." He frowns and talks to the person on the phone again, "Yes, Lynnie Lake's house. Yes. That’s the one. What kind of pizza do you have? Pepperoni, loaded, or Hawaiian? That’s it?" He sighs, "Okay Pepperoni, I guess. Certainly. Thanks."
I laugh.
"Wow, none of the pizza places have anything but that? I had a chicken pizza once in Bangor—that was delicious." His eyes drift, “A friend and I went there, it was interesting. I love pizza. I get it as often as I can.”
“You are so weird.” I’m not as angry as I would like to be.
"Do you have a phone?" he asks.
I shake my head, "Mary won't pay for one and I save everything to pay for New York."
"You don’t message?" he sounds dumbfounded.
I shake my head.
"Wow. How do you communicate with your friends? Seems everyone is addicted to these things. I never see anyone who doesn’t have one in their hands at all times. They do make life easier."
I laugh, “You sound so weird sometimes.”
“I was raised very formally.”
“Cool.” I shake my head, "Anyway, I don’t need a phone. The whole town is three miles squared, and I have a house phone. Pretty sure I can walk that far if I have to."
He grimaces, "But how do you survive without instant access to it all? All the kids these days have a phone. It’s all the rage on TV. Brandon lent me this one. It’s his old one. He insisted."
The way he talks is crazy, like he is an old man. I don’t care about phones. Not right now. Sam is hurt because of me. I know it is me, me and the curse.
I feel Bastion's body weight on the bed as he sits next to me. "Are you truly angry with me, over helping your friend with math?"
I blush, "I just figured, you were being nice to me for . . . you know."
He shakes his head, "I don’t."
"For, like, sex." I feel worse.
He laughs and rubs his hands through his thick hair, "Wow, you really have a wicked opinion of me."
I blush, "No. But you were all over her and laughing and stuff. She was into you, for sure."
He shakes his head, "No, I wasn't. I was being nice. I thought she was your friend."
"She is." I nod, "She likes you. I don’t want to tal
k about it. How did you know where to find me, anyway?"
He looks tired and annoyed, "Well, I heard about the jock and the allergies from your dear friend Sarah. She got a text in class. She told me all about how everyone would think it was somehow your fault and I ran looking for you. I saw the people lined up outside the bathroom and I knew you were there. I panicked. I thought for sure they were being mean to you. I heard you crying and I acted like a psychotic. I kicked the door in, grabbed you, and ran from the school. I think your friends probably think I'm insane."
I laugh, "They do, but not for the reason you think. They think you're nuts for touching me and being near me. Look at Sam." My voice drops off.
He leans into me a little, "That’s not your fault. I swear he had an allergic reaction. I will actually prove it to you."
I sigh and listen to my stomach gurgle.
“Watch.” He leans forward and presses his lips against my forehead. The heat from his breath startles me. I try to pull back but his arms have encircled me. He kisses my cheekbone and then down beside my lips. His phone rings again. He sighs and pulls it out, freeing me to move back and get some space between us. My heart is pounding. He looks at it and sighs, "Yes."
I can hear a girl's voice.
He rolls his eyes, "Look Sarah, I must have given you the wrong impression and I'm truly sorry for that. I was trying to be polite, not lead you to believe I'm interested in you."
My eyes widen. I can imagine exactly how her face looks as his words hit her. I put a hand up to my mouth.
"No problem. Okay . . . goodbye." He hangs up. "Well, that was awkward."
I wince, "Oh, my God. You were so mean to her."
He frowns, "What? Should I have let her think I was interested in her in that way?"
I shake my head, "No, but that was so mean. She’s probably super upset right now."
He shrugs, "Better for her to know I'm not interested in her, than to let it drag out. Have you not seen the movie? I saw it yesterday at Brandon’s. He has it on Netflix. What a wonder Netflix is."
I shake my head, lost in what he’s talking about.
“Lucky I borrowed Brandon’s computer.” He gets up and goes to his backpack and pulls out his laptop, just as the doorbell rings. He runs down the stairs and gets the door.