I had thought she was deep enough into her sleep cycle, so I closed my eyes, but at just the moment where my body and mind felt like they would come together and fall asleep, Sophie yelled. I knew she said something, but my tired brain couldn’t figure it out. My eyes opened and focused on her. Her sleeping face was nowhere near peaceful. Her breathing was all wrong and only a few seconds later she gasped for breath.
Her eyes popped open, her hands moving up to push at my chest.
I wasn’t quite sure what I should do. I didn’t want her to leave my arms, but I didn’t want her to feel caged either. I wanted to comfort her. I moved to rub her shoulders as I placed my other hand gently on her hip.
“Fuck,” she panted. Her eyes were wild for a second until they connected directly with mine. She swallowed hard. Slowly, her body began to relax again.
I had taken Sophie home around eleven. She let me walk her to her door. It was simple and probably stupid, but being able to do that made me happy.
I fell asleep that night wishing for peace for her, but knowing that like me, true peace might never actually come. She could wake up the rest of her life with scared, wild eyes and cuss words.
When I thought about the last week or so, I was not proud of much of it. I had told her secret and hadn’t been able to adequately apologize. She had left.
Then she had gotten high and according to her, shared a kiss with Jason that probably was more than a kiss. Most of me couldn’t blame him since if I was him, I would kiss her too, but there was a part of me that wanted to break my hands on his face just like I did to Anderson.
Sophie now knew more about me than anyone else. While I had no fear showing her my musical inclination, she’d seen my back and I had told her about my father and about purity. That made me afraid. There was power in what she knew and that frightened me.
I didn’t worry about how Sophie would use that power, but I worried about what that power could fester into now that the words to convey it were out there.
I knew my father was wrong about music. Dr. Emmanuel was right on the mark with it being a way to praise God and His love, but my father hadn’t been wrong about my soul being marked. He was not wrong about the wickedness within me.
I knew she wouldn’t understand. I knew she didn’t see me like that. Sophie’s eyes were clouded because I was the only person not looking to take anything from her. I only wanted what she would or could freely give, and she knew it. That was why she could fall asleep with me.
My eyes weren’t clouded.
I could see everything about Sophie, and there were things I hated.
I hated that she thought so little of herself. I hated that she put down her obvious talent and culinary skills. I hated that she preferred to use her body rather than her emotions to give someone pleasure. I hated that after thinking I betrayed her, the first thing she did was get high. I hated that she went to Jason. I hated that someone had hurt her so deeply that she thought she was only good for one thing.
But I loved that she tried to be different.
I was not unaware that given the opportunity, she would be high. I knew that her sobriety was on my shoulders and if it wasn’t for whatever she felt for me, she’d either still be getting high or be in rehab.
She didn’t have to tell me. I felt the pressure to keep her clear-minded and level-headed.
I would accept any pressure put on me because she was worth it. I would help her, just as she would help me.
I loved that she wanted to be better.
I doubted very seriously that I would have ever shown her my back and let her touch me had I not been sedated, but I felt okay that I had. It made me uneasy that I couldn’t seem to stop quoting Scripture or regurgitating all of the things my father beat into me. I knew she didn’t like it.
I knew she was not only non-religious but that she was down-right anti-religious. I would have called her anti-God, but my heart sped up and my lungs froze at the mere thought. I wasn’t quite sure how anyone could operate without thinking that there was a higher power.
For all of my father’s insistence that God could never truly be on my side since I was so clearly marked by Lucifer, I had come to peace with God. The God I Am might not have loved me, but I knew that I was a piece of Him.
How could God know peace without knowing chaos? How could God know beauty and righteousness without knowing ugliness and wickedness?
God accepted all things, as we are all a part of His greatness.
God accepted me despite my tainted soul and wicked spirit.
Sophie had not only seen my back, but also my books. She’d heard me recite the names of the disciples and the books of the Bible.
She called me a robot when I didn’t react to the news that she ran to Jason. It just gave further credit to Robin’s hypothesis that my emotions were repressed. I didn’t want to be a robot, which was why when she validated what I already believed - that she had given herself to Jason and maybe to Aiden - it was hard to push down what I felt.
I wanted to feel it. I wanted to get mad, just like she was asking me to.
I was very careful not to be mad at her, but at the situation.
It wasn’t just anger. I didn’t know what it was, but my mind directed my body to take her.
I wanted possession of everything she had. I needed her to be mine in ways she would never belong to another, while also possessing her in the same way the others had.
Her heat was delicious. Her body on mine melted the frozen bits of me. I felt scorched by the contrast.
I wished that I could have taken it further because I wanted to, but no matter how much I wanted to, my body and mind froze in unison and I had to stop.
She apologized for pushing me, but I was almost happy she had. I didn’t want to be a robot, especially with her. Sophie was passion and I wanted passion. Sophie was warm and I was tired of being cold. Sophie was fierce and fiery and my meek and mild temperament needed to be drenched with her, if only just for a small moment.
It hurt that she’d run to Jason because she was upset with me. It hurt that I couldn’t combat her anger the night she found out I told Robin, but it was who we were. Sophie would externalize everything, using whatever easy means were within her grasp to lash out and I would turn inward, collapsing in on myself in order to avoid the lash of others or the sting of my own whip.
In many ways, what happened was what needed to happen. I was naked and exposed to her now. She’d seen my back. She’d heard my automatic recitation of deeply ingrained words. She had heard the way I felt about her through the song I played for her. There was nothing peaceful about the song. It was a song full of passion. I hoped it conveyed to her all of the emotion I wanted to give to her, even if it was difficult for me to actually do it.
In short, Sophie knew. She knew me. I couldn’t change that now and although it frightened me, I knew it was for the best.
It wasn’t good for her to be so closed-off, just as it wasn’t good for me.
She’d asked me to touch her face and that was more monumental than anything that had ever happened to me. She wanted to get over the things that wounded her, the things that continue to wound her every day, and she wanted my help.
Saturday I went to the Quickshop to pick her up after her shift. She was late and it made me nervous, so I went in to find her. After a quick walk around the store, my panic grew. Logically, there were only a few places she could be if she was really at work, but my mind fixated on her not being where I could see her.
Maybe she never made it to work. Maybe she’d gotten high after I dropped her off. Maybe she overdosed. Maybe someone took her. Maybe Mr. Young and Robin shipped her off to a rehabilitation center. Maybe she ran away. Maybe …
“She’s upstairs.”
I blinked and then turned. Megan Simons was leaning aga
inst her cash register looking very bored. Even though Megan Simons was talking to me, I felt my fears and anxiety lessen. She knew where Sophie was, and that was all I cared about.
“I think she got in trouble or something. The manager looked pissed.”
“C-c-c-c-c …” I was going to ask if I could go up there because an angry manager and Sophie in trouble worried me, but the words stuck in my throat and I gave up and pointed.
Megan shrugged, but her expression seemed to indicate that it would be okay, so I moved quickly up the stairs and ignored the “employees only” signs. I found myself looking into an office through a glass window in the door. Sophie shouldn’t have been with her boss behind a closed door.
It wasn’t right.
I couldn’t see Sophie’s face as she was sitting with her back to me, so I couldn’t tell what emotion she was feeling at the moment, but I didn’t need to see her expression to see where his eyes were focused.
He was talking to her chest and I felt my jaw tighten.
I wanted to hit him.
He hired her. He knew how old she was.
He also wore a gold band on the ring finger of his left hand.
He had no business looking at Sophie like that.
Anger flooded through me and my hands curled into fists.
I wanted to hurt him for looking at her like she was, or would ever be, his.
One fist pounded on the glass as my other hand twisted the doorknob. Thank God it was unlocked. I would’ve broken the glass and injured my hands even further.
Sophie wanted to hear me play the violin. Bloody, torn hands couldn’t play violins, at least not well.
I watched her exclusively as I entered the cramped office. Her head swept around, fanning her hair through the air. Her mouth shifted from a frown to a wide smile. “Elliott!”
“Excuse me.”
I trained my eyes back on her balding manager, my brow furrowing deeper.
“Can I help you, son?”
I forced my jaw to unlock and I drew up all of the angry energy I had and tried to speak. At first nothing came but after a quick couple of seconds, I pointed at my girlfriend. “SS-So-Sophie.”
He looked from me to her and then back to me again. “Miss Young’s shift isn’t over. Please wait outside.”
Essentially, he’d dismissed me, turning his filthy eyes back to Sophie’s chest.
He shouldn’t be looking at her like that. She wasn’t his to look at.
My hands fisted again. I breathed quickly and unsteadily. I fought hard to keep myself still. I felt like I was half fighting back a panic attack and half trying to restrain myself from ramming my fists into his fat face.
I felt my fingers being pried apart and I turned my head, coming face to face with Sophie. “I’m okay, Elliott,” she said quietly.
I was happy that she was “okay” by her standards, but her boss was obviously out of line staring at her breasts as if it was his right. She wasn’t a sexual object and I wanted to force him to understand that. I looked back at him as my fingers tightened again, this time squeezing hers.
“D-don’t llllook at her like that again.” I finished the demand strong. Even though it could have been better, I felt proud that I hadn’t messed it up completely.
“Excuse me?”
I didn’t respond. It was clear by the flush on his face that he’d heard me. I spun around, bringing Sophie with me and tugged her through the door. I moved through the hallway and down the stairs with purpose. We stopped by the time clock and I waited until she had punched out before pulling her through the mechanical doors, out into the vestibule, and then out into the parking lot.
When we neared my car, my feet slowed until I was walking at a semi-normal pace.
“Elliott, stop.” I felt a tug on my arm and my body jerked to a stop.
I searched her face to see if she was mad or hurt or just plain upset, and was relieved to find she was none of them. I questioned her with a look. She smiled and stepped toward me. Rising up on her toes, Sophie pressed her lips into my cheek as her hand gave mine a gentle squeeze.
“W-w-what w-was that for?”
When she stepped back, the smile still remained on her face. “For saving me and shit … like usual.”
I moved my hand to her neck, feeling the now familiar scar with my thumb.
It was cold outside and people were looking at us as they pushed their full shopping carts to their cars, but I didn’t care. I was happy to be in her presence and calmed by her closeness.
It wasn’t until I had her in my room that I asked her why she had gotten in trouble. Before she could answer, Jane knocked on the door. I asked her to go away. I wasn’t incredibly polite, but I didn’t want Jane to get a hold of Sophie and take her away from me. I wanted Sophie for myself and hadn’t planned on sharing her with anyone.
“I just … I don’t know. They have all these stupid rules about people under eighteen. I can’t use the cardboard baler, I can’t use a box cutter, I can’t do this or that and it’s stupid. I was tired of waiting for Brody to open the box of spices, so I grabbed the box cutter and did it myself. It wouldn’t have been a big deal, except the ‘Safety Champion’ or whatever, saw me and told my manager.”
Sophie sighed and then flopped down onto my bed. “And then there was this customer wanting some disgusting chicken noodle packet of shit and it wasn’t on the shelf. I went back to see if we had more, but we didn’t and she rolled her eyes and acted like it was my fault that we were out of it. She basically called me a fucking brain-dead loser, so I said ‘bitch’ under my breath. She didn’t like it and told my stupid manager.”
Her eyes opened and focused on me as she shrugged. “Apparently they have all these rules in retail about what not to say to a customer. I broke about fifteen today.”
“B-b-but you’re not ffffired, r-right?”
“I don’t know. He was getting to that part when you got all dashing and brave.”
She sat up and smiled. “You should’ve hit him. That would have been funny.”
It would’ve felt good, I added silently, but shook my head as I sat down next to her. She turned to me.
“It’s sexy, you know?”
“W-what?”
“When you’re strong like that. Like when Jane was hurt. You were so strong and sexy.”
My mind went back to when Jane recently cut herself in school, and Sophie had found her. It was easy not to panic when I was so focused on someone else. I didn’t know what to say to that. She made me nervous, like always. It wasn’t that she put pressure on me to say anything, but I wanted to speak, and speak right when I was around her. I wanted to respond to her words about my strength.
But Sophie continued before my mouth and mind could get it together.
“Can I kiss you?”
The words “sexy” and “kiss” were so close together as they hung there, almost visually taunting me, but despite the tingle of rising panic, I nodded because there was no way that I would miss the opportunity of feeling Sophie that close to me.
She moved closer, but then stopped and shook her head. “Wait.” She smiled. “You kiss me.”
I must have looked frightened or panicked because she took my hands. “It’s not scary. You know I won’t say no. Sometimes you have to just take what you want.”
She stood up and tugged me with her until we were standing very close together, then put my hands on her hips and squeezed, making me grip her tighter than I felt was necessary. She removed her hands from atop mine and brought them to my chest. I swallowed hard against the bubbling fear and panic. My hands loosened as my neck bent, my head hanging in shame.
I couldn’t do it.
I couldn’t kiss my girlfriend the way she wanted to be kissed. She was right. Logically, there wa
s nothing to be afraid of, and yet the pressure to kiss her mixed with my own fears of not doing it right, of not being right for her, froze me.
I heard her sigh and my eyes closed. I didn’t want to see her disappointment.
I opened my eyes again when I felt her hands recover mine. She tightened them, forcing me to grip her again. Her hips were mostly covered by her khaki cargo pants, but they were low-slung and her shirt was bunched up, so my fingers were digging into her naked flesh as well.
I focused on breathing as my eyes locked with hers. She looked incredibly determined. With her hands holding mine in place, she stepped forward, closer to me until I felt her breasts press against my upper torso and the heat that radiated from her warmed me. She smelled so unbelievably good.
With one last squeeze of my hands, she let go, her hands trailing up my arms to my shoulders and then sliding up my neck to my cheeks. Her thumbs stroked the line of my jaw as her fingers curled around to tickle the short hairs at the base of my neck.
“Kiss me, Elliott,” she whispered just as her fingernails scraped lightly across my skin, sending shivers down my body and causing my breath to stick.
I could do it. I could give her what she wanted and what she needed. I just had to do it and not think. Thinking made me nervous and bound. I must not have moved quickly enough because her hands slid down to my chest and she pushed at me a little. It wasn’t like she was pushing me away. She didn’t use enough force and my hands were still holding her tightly.
Sophie’s eyes scorched me as they blazed.
She wanted me to kiss her.
And I was going to do it.
I stumbled forward a bit, pushing her backwards. I was anxious and my body was tight and my muscles stiff, but I lowered my lips to hers. At first it was just a slight brushing, but instinctually, my hands tightened and I pressed against her harder.
Her back was against my door now and somewhere in the back of my mind, I was worried that she would feel caged, but I could not release her. I seemed to have wanted all of the atoms in her body to fuse with mine as I pressed her back, my hands sliding up to the concave curve of her waist. It was without thinking about it that I hoisted her up.
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