“More than you know,” I said, alluding to my situation at home, but too afraid to say anything.
He didn’t press it, but I could tell by the way he looked at me that he was trying to figure it all out. His head cocked slightly to the side, the contemplative grin on his lips—it was all very pensive, and I just sat there, staring back at him for the longest time, wishing that I could listen to him talk forever without having to say a word.
“I should go,” I said as the sun began to drop in the sky.
Nicholas didn’t protest, but I could see the disappointment in his eyes as he stood up and wrapped his arms around me. We’d barely even breached the surface of who we were as people, or what this was we were experiencing, but it didn’t matter. With him I felt like I already knew, and all that other stuff was just filler. Yeah, it was important to me that he was a good person and he cared about who I was, not just what I could do for him, but honestly that was the furthest thing from my mind as his body pressed against mine and I could finally breathe him in the way I’d wanted to.
He didn’t hold on tight, but just held me close to him. Gentle. I could hear his heart thumping against his chest, beating fast like mine. This was so new for the both of us, and I wanted to look up into his eyes and tell him it was okay, that there was nothing to be nervous about, but I knew that wasn’t the case. There was a whole mess of stuff to be nervous about, and Nicholas didn’t know any of it.
I’d tell him, in time, but for now I just wanted to feel him close to me for a while before the other shoe dropped, because when it did I didn’t know if I could count on him to stick around.
* * *
We spent the entire week joined at the hip. Just the two of us. We ran around Hell’s Kitchen like a couple of demons, doing everything and anything there was to do together. We visited the bakeries, sat in lobbies of posh hotels until we got kicked out for making too much noise, window shopped at places like Fine and Dandy, and Tagg, and we spent all day Sunday at the Hell’s Kitchen Flea Market, an outdoor smorgasbord where you can find anything from clothes and food, to knick-knacks and hidden treasures. It was perfect, and the entire time Nicholas never let go of my hand and always kept me close, like he knew that was exactly what I needed to feel safe.
We talked, too. A lot. Well, mostly him, but that was okay. I could listen to his voice for hours and never get tired of it. Its deep, soothing sound was like honey in my heart, and each time he opened his mouth I looked at him and saw the passion in his eyes with every word he spoke. It filled me with the same feeling, like I could do anything in the world as long as I was by his side. Even stand up to my father, which was scary in its own right, but exhilarating at the same time because no other person had ever made me feel like that. Nicholas was the first, and I forever wanted him to be my last.
Carrying around our own twisty cones, we licked vanilla ice cream, walking hand-in-hand through the various vendors, stopping to admire their wares every so often. I paused to look at some tiny crystal animals on display, marveling over the intricate detail on a dolphin breaking through the waves, turning to smile at Nicholas, who had his eyes trained on me.
“What?” I blushed, busying myself with my ice cream.
“Nothing. It’s just…you’re so beautiful when you’re happy.”
I held his gaze, looking at him to see if this was some kind of angle he was playing, but there was nothing in those eyes but sincerity, and it made my heart swell with emotion. No one had ever called me beautiful before. Not like that. When I was a kid, maybe. Dressed in a pretty dress or whatever. Oh, she’s so beautiful. But the way Nicholas said it, like he meant it, it was music to my ears.
“You got a nice smile, too,” he beamed.
“Stop it,” I teased, bopping him on the nose with my ice cream. It left a splotch of white vanilla that looked hilarious contrasted against his olive skin, and I burst out in a fit of laughter as Nicholas stood there, feigning a look of surprise on his face.
“Oh, you think that’s funny, huh?” he joked.
“Yeah, I do,” I giggled.
“How about this? Is this funny?”
He smashed his cone against my face, getting ice cream all over my nose and mouth. I squealed in genuine shock and took a step back to allow some of it to drip to the concrete rather than all over my shirt. The crystal vendor—a Spanish man in his fifties with a thick black moustache—looked on in amusement, laughing to himself. I looked from him to Nicholas, who stood there with a grin of satisfaction on his face. There wasn’t a napkin in sight and I didn’t know what to do, so I started wiping the ice cream off my nose and onto my palm, licking it up as best I could. When I was sure I got it all, I raised my eyes to see Nicholas staring at me. Gone was the look of amusement on his face, replaced with something else hiding deep behind his eyes. A hunger that flashed like lightning before it disappeared in an instant and he smiled.
“You still got a little on you,” he said, taking a step forward.
“What? Where?” I wiped at the corners of my mouth but no ice cream made its way to my fingers. “Are you sure?”
He nodded. “I’m sure.”
Then he looked at the Spanish man who was still watching us, and winked. The crystal vendor grinned and nodded his head in my direction; like they were both in on some secret plan to make me look…I don’t know, silly? Foolish? Anything was possible at this point.
Nicholas took another step closer, bringing himself just inches away from me. His right hand reached up and cupped around my waist, causing me to suck in a sharp breath of air.
“It’s okay,” he whispered.
I looked into his eyes and saw the same passion in them that he exuded when he spoke about life. Only this time, that passion was directed at one thing and one thing only: me.
“It’s okay,” he repeated, and then he leaned in and brushed his lips against mine. I closed my eyes as he pressed them against me, feeling the softness of them. Tasting the remnants of soft serve vanilla on him. His left hand slid up my back and rested just below the nape of my neck. I didn’t know what to do. This was my first kiss—ever—so I followed his lead, moving my lips in unison with his. Standing there on a pair of trembling legs that supported a body that was breaking out in goosebumps and turning to rubber in his arms.
I didn’t want it to end, and I found myself pressing against him. Running my hands up and down his back and through his dark hair, moaning into his mouth as my body began to heat up and my nipples hardened into pebbles.
Kissing had suddenly become my most favorite thing in the world.
“Okay, okay,” said the Spanish crystal vendor.
We pulled apart; my head left swimming with the desire to do more. I’d forgotten momentarily that we were in public, and when I blinked, all the sounds of the people around us came flooding into my ears and I blushed. Embarrassed at our public display of affection. Nicholas rested his forehead against mine and we both breathed deep, catching our breaths.
“Wow,” I whispered.
“Was that your first?” he asked.
I nodded, unashamed to let him know how inexperienced I was.
“Me too,” he smiled.
I found it hard to believe that he’d never kissed a girl before, but staring into his eyes, I knew it to be true, and it filled me with a sense of pride to know that I was his first. He most likely could have kissed any girl he wanted to at any time, but for whatever reason he hadn’t, and he’d chosen me to be his first. The fact that we’d gotten to experience it together for the first time was something I’d cherish forever.
We waived goodbye to the crystal vendor and spent the remainder of the day walking around the flea market hand-in-hand, looking more at each other than the various tables that were set up. When it began to get late, we left and Nicholas walked me back toward home. My feet and legs were killing me from doing so much walking all day without much rest, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was him, and it made me sad that our perfect week
was coming to an end.
We stopped a couple of block from my building. Nicholas offered to walk me the rest of the way, and that sent a short wave of panic through me, but I hid it well as reality came crashing down like a tidal wave. My father. Did he know? We’d spent so much time together over the last seven days that anyone could have spotted us running around, but he’d said nothing about it, so I assumed we were safe and that my time with Nicholas was something that was just between us.
“It’s okay,” I said. “You don’t need to do that.”
“You sure?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
He drew me close and kissed me one last time. I savored the taste of his tongue against mine. Breathing him in and committing every moment to memory for when I’d need it.
“I’ll see you soon,” he said.
“Next Saturday,” I offered. “Outside Carmine’s shop. I’ll meet you at noon.”
“A whole week?” he protested, but I assured him it would be okay after telling him that I had some stuff to do this week with my folks.
The truth was, I had nothing going on. I just didn’t want everything to get too out of hand and risk being discovered. I figured a week spent close to home might quell any thoughts my father might be having about my activities away from the confines of the apartment.
With a quick kiss on the lips, Nicholas conceded and said goodbye. I watched him walk away until he rounded the corner and was out of sight. I didn’t realize it, but I’d been holding my breath watching him leave, and I let it out in an exasperated gasp that filled me with hope, happiness, and elation.
Then I turned around and walked by myself the rest of the way home.
* * *
I walked through the apartment door with a smile on my face, the scent of Nicholas still clinging to me. All I wanted to do was go into my room to sit and reminisce over everything. Every word from his mouth, every kiss from his lips, and every look in his eyes. It was all for me, and though he didn’t know it, it was the most fun I’d had in forever.
From behind me, the door slammed shut and before I could turn around I felt knuckles being driven into my kidney area. I cried out, collapsing to the ground in a heap of hurt that sent me scrambling over onto my back.
Above me, my father stood seething through clenched teeth, with droplets of white spittle in his beard. His eyes were two thin slits of rage. He reached out and grabbed me by the shirt collar, hoisting me up a few inches off the ground while tears streamed down my red hot cheeks.
“Daddy, please,” I begged. “Please.”
“Who is he, huh? You don’t think I know you’ve been whoring around? I hear everything little girl. Everything!”
He spit in my face and threw me to the ground. My head connected with the hardwood, causing my back teeth to rattle. Carmine, I thought. He must’ve told my dad about Nicholas, and now I was reaping the reward for my carelessness.
He kicked me in the stomach with the tip of his boot. I grabbed my gut and rolled over, coughing for breath, looking through a haze of tears into the kitchen where my mother sat clutching her rosary beads in silent prayer.
“You wanna go and whore yourself out like that, huh?” Dad screamed. “Let all the neighbors know what a little slut you are?”
“We didn’t do anything, Daddy, I swear,” I cried harder and harder the more my mother sat there, watching her through strings of sweaty damp hair that hung over my face like prison bars.
“Now you’re a liar, too!” He punched me in the small of my back and I cringed, enduring as much of his punishment as I could. I did whatever I had to do to get through it, and while before I’d just let my mind drift off to a space filled with nothingness, this time I thought long and hard until I could see Nicholas’ smile and feel the way his arms felt around me. It didn’t lessen the pain any, but I hung on to that as my father continued to rack my body for another few minutes before I was left lying in a puddle of my own drool on the living room floor, and somehow that dulled the hurt enough for me to endure it until the last thing I remembered before passing out was Nicholas looking at me that first day on his roof and saying I want to know about you.
This is me, I thought. This is my life.
And then life went black for a little while.
FOUR
- Nicholas -
“Nicky’s got a girlfriend, Nicky’s got a girlfriend!”
Two days had gone by since that last Sunday at the flea market, and I’d spent every second of it daydreaming about the way Sarah made me feel. It was like I was walking around in some crazy daze, like a zombie, unable to even breathe without thinking about her.
Helena sat across the kitchen table from me, taunting me with her cries of, “Nicky’s got a girlfriend!”
I put down my fork and whipped a pea at her. Mom sat next to me, between us, and said, “Cut that shit out, you two.”
“I saw them,” Helena teased.
I threw back my head and groaned.
“What?” Mom asked. “What did you see, baby doll?”
I shot my sister a scowl, warning her not to say anything, but it was no use. With our mother involved, all bets were off.
“They were on the roof, holding hands.”
“That was like, a week ago!” I said. “You been waitin’ to use that one against me, huh?”
Earlier in the day I’d been playing around, tugging on her pigtails, and though she’d told me to stop several times there was just something about torturing my little sister that made life fun sometimes. Now karma was playing its part.
Mom slapped me upside the head. “You been messin’ around?”
“Ow, ma,” I rubbed my neck and winced. That was gonna leave a mark. “It’s not like that.”
“Then what’s it like? Tell me. You better be keepin’ it in your pants young man.”
“Ma,” I moaned, my ears turning read. “You don’t understand. She’s not that kind of girl.”
Mom sighed and put down her fork. The lasagna I’d made while she was at work sat in the middle of the table, piping hot and oozing gooey cheese. She wiped her mouth with a napkin, calming herself, before resting her elbow on the table and her chin in the palm of her hand. “Tell me,” she said softly. “Tell me what kind of girl she is, Nicky.”
So I did. I spoke for nearly fifteen minutes about Sarah, and the way she made me feel. I told my mom she was sweet, and petite, and when I looked into her eyes it was like looking into a piece of myself that’d been lost since the day I was born and I’d only now just found it. I went all out, holding nothing back. I even amazed myself, but it felt good to finally tell someone what I’d been bottling up in my heart, even if it was just my mother.
When I finished, I took a deep breath and looked down at the table, almost afraid of what her reaction might be. Across from me, Helena sat giggling to herself, but I just smiled, remembering the way I’d made Sarah laugh when I showed her my teeth full of licorice. I hadn’t planned on doing that. I hadn’t planned on anything, really, I just wanted to see her smile, and when that jerk Carmine interrupted us, coming back here to the roof was the first thing I thought of.
“Oh man, Nicky,” mom said. “You got it bad, don’t you?”
“What?” I asked, blushing.
“Love, baby. You got bit.”
She grinned a wide, toothy smile at me and ruffled my hair. I shooed away her hand, which caused my little sister to break out in a fit of laugher that had her nearly on the floor.
“Ma, c’mon,” I said through a smile of my own.
“It’s true. I’ve seen it before. Happens to the best of us. You got bit, and once that happens, oh man, you better brace yourself for the ride of your life.”
“Ride of my life? No, Ma, I told you, she ain’t like that.”
“I’m not talkin’ about sex, goofball. I just mean that what you’re about to experience is a roller coaster of emotions. Anger, sadness, jealousy…those are all a part of loving someone.”
“I don’t even know if I love her, though. I mean, all we did was talk. I haven’t even known her for a month yet. How can that be love?”
“It’s not. It’s infatuation, but keep it up and you’ll see what I mean.”
I moved the peas around on my plate. Mom always insisted on a vegetable with dinner, and though I didn’t think peas and lasagna mixed all that well, it was the best I could come up with.
I’d never even thought that I might be in love with Sarah. It didn’t cross my mind, really. I just knew that I couldn’t stop thinking about her, and that every second of the day she wasn’t near me, I felt lonely. We’d only spent a week together—one, amazing week—but it was enough time for me to know that I didn’t want to spend another minute without her.
“What else about her,” Mom asked, biting into the food, which she approved of with a long, soft moan. “So good,” she mumbled.
“I don’t know. She’s sad.”
“Sad?”
“Yeah, it’s hard to explain, but there’s something she’s not telling me. Like she’s keeping a secret or something.”
“All women have secrets, Nicky. Whether they’re sixteen or sixty.”
“No, it’s not like that.” I told her what happened outside of Carmine’s before I pulled Sarah away and took her up on the roof. Mom glanced at me, a shadow overtaking her bright, animated features. “What do you think it means?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
Seeing the cloud pass over my own demeanor, she tried to brighten the mood, saying, “You should bring her by for dinner some time.”
“Yeah?”
“Sure. I’d love to meet the girl who stole my baby away from me.” She winked and tossed my hair once more, causing Helena to laugh uncontrollably again.
“Well, just let me work on that, okay? I’d like to have her all to myself for a little while.”
“Gotcha,” Mom said.
Saint Nicholas Page 3