Skin Deep

by Pamela Sparkman

  When he pulled away we were both panting. We stared at each other while the rain beat down on us, water cascading down our faces. I was confused as to why he had kissed me. Angry that he had kissed me. Happy that he had kissed me.

  “I-I have to go,” I stammered.

  He nodded. At least I think he did. It was so subtle. He backed away, but his eyes were holding onto me, like a tether…pain eking out around the edges.

  It was another punch in the gut, and again, I had to look away. I fast tracked it to my car, and once inside, I tried to gather my thoughts.

  What the hell just happened?

  I went over and over it again. I couldn’t think straight. Everything was so jumbled up.

  What the hell just happened?

  I put the key in the ignition, and with shaky hands, wiped the fog off of the windshield so I could see. Pulling out of the parking lot, I glanced in the rear view mirror.

  And there he was, still standing in the pouring rain, his eyes still holding on.

  Hayden

  I paced around the living room after changing out of my wet clothes, berating myself for my stupidity. How many times can one person screw up? How is it that I keep trying to do all the right things and only end up making things worse? I should wear caution tape from now on, because every time I get around Beth all I can do is create a scene that she has to flee.

  I shouldn’t have kissed her like that. What was I thinking?

  I plopped myself onto the sofa and put my head in my hands. I wasn’t thinking; I was feeling. The second she looked at me coming out of the bar, I saw all the hurt and pain in her eyes, and I wanted to erase all of it. I wanted to take it all away. So I ran after her. My heart leaped ahead of my brain and all reason got trampled on along the way. Because, aside from having this deep need to protect her, I also had this absolute desire to touch her, to hold her, to feel her. The way her hair was dripping wet, how tiny drops of water clung to her eyelashes, how she was standing in front of me, drenched and beautiful… All the feelings that I had for her came flooding out of me. I couldn’t not kiss her.

  For months and months I had tried to be Beth’s friend and for months and months she had kept me at arm’s length. Walking in on her that day in the bathroom had begun a downward spiral. Every day that passed was another day I felt like I was flapping around in the wind. No direction and no rhyme or reason to anything I was doing.

  I stood, and stared absently out the window, retracing every wrong step I had taken. I recalled Ms. Sophie’s words during the reception after Joe and Maggie’s wedding: Actions are what speak to a girl like Beth.

  I walked into the kitchen, grabbed a notebook from the kitchen drawer, flipped open to the first page, and began to write my goals:

  Get Beth to like me again

  Convince her that she needs help.

  Convince her that she needs me the same way I need her.

  I stared at the piece of paper and groaned. I ripped the page out, wadded it up into a ball, and chucked into the trash can.

  Who was I kidding? I couldn’t even get Beth to do the first thing on that list, let alone the last one. I scrubbed my hands over my face feeling frustrated as ever. This shit was hopeless.

  I leaned against the kitchen counter and tried to get my mind off of Beth. I thought, instead, about my half-sister and how she lights up every time I visit her. At five years old, she’s smart, beautiful, and already has me wrapped around her little finger.

  I had only discovered I even had a half-sister a couple of years ago. My dad had an affair and when he found out the woman he was seeing was pregnant he left her. In the months thereafter, he had treated her and her child like shit that needed to be scraped from his shoe. I wasn’t ever supposed to know, yet I found out in the worst possible way.

  Even worse, my own mother knew about the affair all along. She apparently was fine with it, until the whole pregnancy thing, and she pressured my father to break off the affair and pay the woman off to keep it all a secret. My father was a wealthy entrepreneur who had built a multi-million dollar company, and having word of his affair hit the tabloids was something my mother was way more concerned about. Maintaining a certain lifestyle and image were the things my mother valued, not the betrayal of a husband, or the life of an innocent child. To her, the marriage was a means to a bank account and the child was a throwaway. To me, my parents were a huge disappointment and the child was my sister. No matter how she came into existence she was my little sister. My mom went to great lengths to keep the dirty family secret from me and everyone else, and it worked, until the day I stumbled across the truth.

  Two years ago I worked for my father and was on my way to my dad’s office when I heard voices on the other side of his closed door. A woman, whose voice I didn’t recognize, was crying and begging my father for help. He sounded angry and I heard something being shoved against the wall, followed by a yelp and a scream. Not waiting another second, I opened the door and found my father standing over the woman about to throw another punch.

  I fucking lost it.

  I didn’t know the story of the woman at the time or who she was to him, but the image of the man I looked up to…admired…wailing on a woman? No. I snapped, and without thinking I lunged at my father and punched him square in the jaw. He fell backwards. The shock and disbelief that he had been caught by his son silenced him. He never even tried to stand up. I held out my hand to the woman, who was traumatized on the floor, and got her the hell out of there.

  Later, I learned the whole sordid story. My callous father had a child in the world he didn’t give two shits about and my mother wasn’t who I thought she was. I also learned the woman he was cheating on Mom with had no idea he was married until she came up pregnant. My mother attempted to write a check to pay for an abortion and her silence— pay-off money that she wouldn’t accept. Everything I thought I knew growing up exploded in my face that day. I walked away from my parents after that revelation and I haven’t looked back since.

  The only family I do visit is Annabeth…my half-sister. The reason Annabeth’s mother had been in my father’s office that day was because Annabeth was sick and needed surgery. She was asking him for help with the surgery costs she couldn’t afford and my father’s answer was to beat the shit out of her.

  I paid for Annabeth’s surgery and I put them up in a nicer apartment in a better part of town, and I kept the dirty family secret, not for my parents’ sake, but for theirs. They didn’t need or want the attention it would cause and I didn’t want Annabeth to know that she wasn’t wanted.

  And that’s the kicker. She doesn’t know I’m her brother. Ever since she was old enough to understand, her mother has told her that her father died before she was born. I continue to let her believe that. How would it benefit her to know the truth? It would only cause her pain. So she thinks that I’m a family friend who stops by for visits. Sometimes the weight of that lie feels like its crushing me from the inside out.

  I rubbed my hands over my face again and stared at the wadded up paper in the trash.

  There are two girls in my life that are important to me. One of them hates me, the other one loves me, and neither of them knows I would lay down my life for them.

  I bent over and grabbed the paper out of the trash and began to smooth out the creases. I laid it flat on the kitchen counter again and reread the words I had written. I picked up the pen and wrote my last goal:

  4. Let both girls know how much I love them, no matter what it takes.

  I stared at the paper for a moment and then, remembering Ms. Sophie’s words again, I amended my list: Let SHOW both girls know how much I love them, no matter what it takes.

  Beth

  Hayden’s thigh brushed against mine, and I had to fight the flutter in my stomach that instantly followed. I cleared my throat and pretended that small touch didn’t affect me. I kept my eyes downcast and glanced at the menu in my hands. If only my mind would actually read it instead of playing
back the memory of Hayden kissing me last night. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

  Why would he do that?

  I reached for my water glass to take a sip when Hayden’s thigh brushed against mine again and I nearly knocked it over.

  Shit.

  “You okay?” Lily asked

  “I’m fine,” I said, my voice trembling. “Just clumsy is all.”

  I hid my shaky hands beneath the table, clenched them into tight fists, and tried to swallow my nervousness. I felt my mask slipping, so I continued to keep my head down and made certain not to make eye contact with anyone. I was worried that anyone who held my eyes for more than a split second would see how I was cracking on the inside. I was barely keeping it together and I wanted to excuse myself so badly – to purge everything out of me. I wanted to flush away everything that was wrong with me, excrete it from my body, and into the sewer where it belonged, and where I wanted it to stay. It wouldn’t stay there, though. It’d come back. It always did. So I sat here pretending to enjoy being out to dinner with my friends, picking at the small corn muffin Cooper passed to me when the waiter brought the complimentary basket out with our drinks, all the while wrestling with my inner thoughts, secretly imagining the amount of time I was going to give the porcelain god when I got home.

  Escape. Throw up. Do it. Don’t wait. Do it now!

  I dug my fingernails deep into the skin inside my clenched palms to divert my thoughts to the pain rather than the voice in my head that was screaming at me. I relished in the unpleasantness of it, until someone called my name.

  “Beth?”

  Inside, I was raging at the fact that I couldn’t do what I needed to do. I suppressed those feelings for the short term and directed my fake smile to the person addressing me…Lily.

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you still like working at Sal’s Diner?”

  Before I could answer I felt a warm hand cover my left fist under the table. His hand was so big it completely covered mine. Strong fingers pried my hand open. I swallowed, refusing to look down. I stared across the table and answered Lily. “I do actually,” I said in my usual way…bubbly, and I made sure to keep my smile plastered in place. “Sal misses you being there, though, and so do I. You should come by and see him soon. He’s always asking me about you.”

  Fingers rubbed across the indentations I left behind where my nails dug into my palms. Hayden wasn’t even looking at me. He was talking to Joe who was sitting on the other side of him, yet he was stroking the inside of my hand as if he was trying to erase the marks I’d left there.

  He brushed his thigh against mine again and this time I couldn’t ignore it. It felt like he was touching me everywhere. I closed my eyes briefly, affording myself a few seconds to wish away the goose bumps that erupted over every square inch of me, praying he doesn’t notice.

  “That’s so sweet. I miss seeing Sal too. I’ll definitely get by there and see him this week,” Lily said. “Hey listen, you want to go shopping with me Saturday?”

  “I wish I could. I’m working Saturday.”

  From my peripheral vision, I could see Hayden observing me, feeling the heat from his stare while he continued to caress my palm. I felt my mask slipping a little more.

  Deep breaths, Beth.

  “Oh, well that’s too bad.”

  Lily looked disappointed, and I felt bad about disappointing her. Truth was, I had to limit the time I spent with everyone because I couldn’t risk anyone else finding out how messed up I really was. I spent huge amounts of time alone, and usually that worked for me because I liked being alone. I just didn’t like being lonely.

  I was always lonely, though, even when I was out with everyone having dinner… like now. I was lonely because I couldn’t ever let anyone get close to me. I put on my super cape, and wrapped myself up in it. It was my protection. I didn’t leave my house without it, and I spoke to people behind an invisible glass wall. They couldn’t hurt me if I was behind the glass. So this was where I lived – how I lived – with glass walls and super capes.

  This was my life.

  “Hayden, dear, you’re looking at Beth like she’s on the menu.”

  Immediately, my eyes darted towards Ms. Sophie. She was grinning. I was dying of embarrassment. Looking down, I started to pull my hand back from Hayden, but he stopped the light caresses, and threaded his fingers through mine, keeping our hands hidden under the table. Clearing my throat, and with my other hand, I picked up my glass of water, and took a drink, further regretting coming out to dinner tonight.

  “Why would you say that, Ms. Sophie?” Hayden asked with a flat tone to his voice.

  With a sidelong glance, I noticed he wore no expression on his face.

  Ms. Sophie quirked up one eyebrow like she was challenging him. “Because you were, dear. I’m just the only one who’s going to say it out loud.”

  “That’s not true,” Joe said, chiming in. He raised his index finger. “I couldn’t see how he was looking at Beth, although I would like to think I would have most definitely called him out on it.”

  I had never wanted to disappear so badly in all my life. I could not believe this was happening. I took a calming breath and realized I had to play along, even though everything in me was screaming to run, to purge, to–

  “Beth,” Maggie said softly. “You okay? Ms. Sophie likes to give her boys a hard time. You know that, right?”

  I straightened my shoulders and sat up.

  Showtime.

  With a smile I had practiced in the mirror for years I answered, “Absolutely.” I turned to Ms. Sophie, and with a look of playing along, I asked, “How was Hayden looking at me, Ms. Sophie?” I even winked at her for good measure.

  “Well,” she began, leaning in conspiratorially, “imagine a starving man who’s gone without a meal for weeks and you waved a thick juicy steak under his nose. Like that, dear. Like you are his first and last meal.”

  I laughed boisterously. “I doubt that, Ms. Sophie.” I made another attempt to take back my hand. Hayden tightened his hold.

  Why is he doing this?

  “Actually,” Hayden said, “I was wondering what Beth was thinking. I’m always wondering what she’s thinking.” He was looking at me, and talking to Ms. Sophie. “If I was staring at her, it’s because she intrigues me.”

  “I wasn’t thinking anything,” I answered too quickly. I drew my eyebrows together and tried to keep my voice even. Inside, though, my heart was bouncing around my chest like a pinball. The waiter appeared with an appetizer plate and everyone’s attention was redirected for a moment.

  “You were thinking. You’re always thinking.” Hayden leaned in and whispered in my ear so the others couldn’t hear. “I’m holding your hand. I can feel you trembling. You’re thinking, Beth, and I want to know about what. I’ll make it fair and tell you what I’m thinking. I’m thinking that what I really want to do is leave this restaurant with you and spend the rest of the night finding out how to make you fall in love with me.”

  Hayden pulled back so he could see my face. His eyes were such a light blue they almost looked clear. His usual impassive expression was anything but impassive now. His eyes were sad – haunted. The waiter had left to get some extra plates and everyone was talking again. No one was paying any attention to us and I was relieved. Hayden let go of my hand, and stood. “Joe, if the waiter comes back to take our orders while I’m gone to the restroom, order the steak for me. I’m a starving man.”

  He walked away and all I could do was stare at his retreating back until he disappeared around a corner. My eyes drifted, and I found myself staring at the empty place setting in front of me. I counted the tongs on the fork, watched drops of condensation slide down my water glass, and I tried to think of something to say. Our table was quiet again, and it felt like it was my place to speak first. What could I say, though? I could feel everyone’s eyes on me. I was the center of attention. I gave a weak, halfhearted smile and tried to break the silence. “I�
��I’m not–”

  “Joe, dear,” Ms. Sophie said, cutting me off. She looked at me and winked, and then faced Joe again. “Tell us a joke while we wait for the waiter to come back around.”

  And with that, the flow of conversation once again returned to normal. I mouthed a thank you to Ms. Sophie and tried to include myself in the conversation around me. Cooper, who had been seated to my right, patted my hand in a gesture that (coming from him) meant everything would be all right.

  I only wished I believed him.

  Beth

  I woke up to pounding on my front door. I rolled over and tried to read the clock, but without my contacts all I could see were blurry red numbers. I buried my head under my pillow and silently begged for the pounding to stop.

  It didn’t.

  “Go away,” I silently hissed. After a few minutes of constant banging, I kicked off the covers and got out of bed. I stomped down the hallway to the front door, unlocked it, and swung it open, glaring at the person standing in front of me. I let out a heavy sigh.

  Why does he always catch me at my worst?

  “What are you doing here so early?”

  Hayden ignored my glaring and my sighing, and walked in with two cups of coffee stacked in a to-go carrier and two Styrofoam containers. “Breakfast. And it’s not early. It’s after ten.”

  I brushed the hair out of my face and crossed my arms in front of my chest. I was braless after all, and it was cold. “I didn’t say you could come in.”

  Hayden placed the stuff he was carrying on my kitchen table. “Come sit with me and eat something. And close the door. It’s cold outside.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Then come have some coffee.” He pulled out a chair and gestured for me to sit. I didn’t want to sit. I wanted to go back to bed. My head was pounding and my throat was raw, so I stood in place, silently protesting his presence. Cold air was rushing in, though, and knowing Hayden well enough to know he wasn’t leaving, I closed the door with a huff, and marched like a petulant child to the chair he had pulled out for me. Sometimes I think he brings the worst out in me. It wasn’t always like this; I used to have fun with him.