Hollow Sight

by Kristie Pierce

  “Bloody hell, no. Thankfully I missed out on that.”

  We both laugh some more as he reenacts what he had witnessed as two very drunk and rowdy fellow classmates hopped on a four-wheeler to chase a raccoon thinking it was a deer, yes a deer. Shotgun in hand and a beer bottle in the other. Liam admits that he was a little afraid for his life at that moment. I assure him that the Snyder boys have never aimed and fired at anyone. It’s only things with fur and four legs that needed to worry.

  “I thought only the south bred housed red... faces? No, that doesn't sound right. What's the phrase?”

  “Rednecks. And no. The south probably does have some fine hicks, but we here in southern Michigan are a hunting community. And that can breed some rednecks. Most of them are pretty nice, but I'm sure the Snyder boys wouldn't hesitate to chase a boy off their property with a riffle once a poor guy musters up the courage to ask out their one and only sister.”

  “That poor lad,” Liam says with sarcastic sincerity.

  “You looked uncomfortable when I asked why you’d come here. Is there a reason why?” I ask after our laughter dies down. Liam's face makes me wish I hadn't and I suddenly feel like maybe I’m being too nosy. “But you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” I add quietly.

  “You caught that, huh? And here I thought I’d been able to hide it.” Liam sighs. “But not with you. You see right through me, don’t you?” He shakes his head slightly and then appears as if he’s trying to decide if he wants to continue. “I guess this goes along with the uncomfortable part,” he continues quietly.

  “I don’t see through anything, Liam. And you really don’t have to if you don’t want to… you don’t have to do anything that you don’t…”

  “No,” he says interrupting me. “It’s okay. I want to. It's just when I'm with you, I forget about it, the reasons why. It's a nice distraction.”

  He looks so miserable all of the sudden, I’m not sure if I want him to continue if it’s going to cause him to be upset. I keep my eyes on his face, carefully trying to gauge his emotions. He becomes unreadable though, and I can tell that what he is about to tell me is… bad.

  “Breckin, right after the semester ended, there was… this girl…,” he begins slowly, watching my expression carefully. His eyes are guarded but he otherwise remains impassive. I know he’s waiting to see what I’ll say or do to that, but the only thing to find upon my face is pure curiosity. Okay, so there was a girl. So what? Should I really be surprised? He goes on. “We’d been dating for a long time, a lot like you and Ben.” Liam spits his name. “She and I spent all our time together. She was… very sweet and… everything I would ask for if I’d known then what it was that I should ask for. We were driving one night coming home from a play. She very much enjoyed theater and I have to admit that I didn’t. I thought the play’s she liked were silly and unoriginal. But it made her happy, so I went,” he says with half a smile. Then his expression changes. He’s no longer emotionless, Liam is now so ripped apart by sadness that I almost stop him. I don’t think I've ever witnessed such misery. When he speaks again, it’s almost a whisper.

  “The other car crossed the center line. We were coming around a curve in the road… it was raining… there was no time to swerve or brake and he ended up hitting our car head on. All I really remember was one second it was dark, and the next there were headlights coming straight at us.

  “It’s a blur after that. I vaguely remember the sirens and all the rescue workers that surrounded us. As they wheeled me to the ambulance I was so disoriented, but I caught a glimpse of the firefighters cutting the twisted metal of the car. She was still inside…. Her parents blamed me. I swore to them that no one was at fault, there was no foul play involved. It was dark and the road was wet and the other driver was driving too fast. The authority report stated as such; that it really was just an accident. Wrong place at the wrong time kind of thing.

  “I was in the hospital for her funeral. I was pretty banged up. I had a concussion with some facial fractures along with several broken bones. I had to have surgery on my leg,” he explains while lifting his left leg to the surface of the water, showing me a pale pink scar the length of his shin. He begins to absentmindedly trace the faint scar on his left eyebrow while continuing. “That sent my father into an outrage. He was sure that my foo–soccer career was over. It should’ve bothered me now that I think back to it. You know, that he was more concerned with my leg rather than my overall health. I was too depressed to care. I didn’t care about anything. The one person I felt that loved me the way I should be loved was dead, and I just… shut down.

  “So you see, that’s the real reason I’d wanted to come. I had to get away. I’d grown tired of the criticism and whispered remarks.” Liam’s face has turned hard now, remembering. He’s still visibly upset, but his jaw has clenched together tightly and his nostrils flare as he continues. “To my face people were sympathetic, but behind my back some blamed me just as her parents had. Saying all kinds of unimaginable things, embellishing the story. The other man died as well. As far as I know he didn’t have any family to mourn him.”

  Liam stops abruptly then, sucking in a deep breath while I have tears in my eyes. It’s clear that this still bothers him and with good reason. I want to comfort him more now than I ever have before. His bottom lip trembles for a few seconds as he looks blindly ahead of him and I’m sure that he’s replaying the events of that night in his head. I clutch the side of the pool ledge so hard that the concrete begins to dig into my skin. I’m aching to put my hand to his face so that I can give him some console.

  “I’m so sorry, Liam.” I am unable to speak louder than a soft murmur.

  “Thank you. Everyday gets a little better, but I’ll admit that I’ve never been able to shake that image of her… in the car.” He swallows. “It still haunts me.”

  “I don't know what else to say,” I admit shyly. My heart gives a painful squeeze and I don't think in the current circumstance that it'd be wrong of me to reach my hand out to him in a gesture of comfort. I’m just beginning to hesitantly move my hand toward him as the magnets give a zing in thrilling expectation.

  “There isn't anything else to say. It's over now.” Liam closes his eyes and seems to regroup. I drop my hand. “No more embarrassing questions?” he asks a moment later. He endeavors to appear light but I can see that he’s still quite shaken.

  “No,” I smile sheepishly. “I'm all out for now.” Of course that is a huge lie, but after what he's just told me, I’m not going to ask anymore. I’ve already gotten so much more than I ever expected to.

  We float silently after that. Liam lays his head back against the ledge and looks up to the sky. I hadn’t realized it, but I had turned my head to look at him when he was telling his story and I have now unintentionally moved closer to him. He, too, turns his head to gaze at me and our eyes lock for one long moment. Liam’s face slowly shifts again from melancholy to something I don’t understand. His breathing picks up a little and mine responds, hitching in my lungs.

  Before I can understand what’s happening, Liam has quickly shifted his body so that his arms are on either side of my face, hands resting on the cool cement next to my head. He stands in front of me now, able to touch the bottom of the pool while my legs are left dangling beneath me. His face is inches away from mine and it takes all I have not to put my lips to his. My heart is pounding, blood thumping in my ears, and my breathing accelerates more than it already has causing the water at my chin to ripple away from me. His eyes mirror the color of the water surrounding us while their thin outlines remain dark sapphire blue. They blaze looking as if their intense turquoise has crystallized somehow inside his eyes, and that they might actually shatter like glass from the intensity of his stare. Liam’s lips twitch and he closes his eyes and presses his forehead to mine.

  “Breckin,” he whispers.

  This is it. This is what I’d imagined; Liam whispering my name. The sound of it catap
ults shivers through my body causing me to tremble. He doesn’t say anything else as we stay locked into our positions – his arms on either side of me and mine still grasping the side of the ledge. If I were to let go, I’d sink. I so very much want to wrap my arms around his neck along with my legs around his waist, but I am positive that would be crossing the invisible “just friends” line. I am so close. My skin begins to ache again. I need to move. I need to be free from his close proximity. But I can’t. I am frozen in place, totally intoxicated and hypnotized.

  “Breckin, this is harder than I thought it would be. I tried convincing myself that if I could at least handle you as a friend – if that was the only way to have you in my life –then I’d do it. It’s too tempting being alone with you like this. This is wrong and I'm sorry.”

  I don’t know what to say. Again.

  He opens his eyes to look at me. I don’t know what expression my face must be portraying, but it can’t be too terrible because he chuckles quietly and lifts his head to push his body away from me, swimming backward in the now almost still water. I let go of the ledge with defeat and let my body submerge into the water. I let out a frustrated scream beneath the water as I know he won't be able to hear it, bubbles purging from my mouth and floating purposefully toward the surface. I, too, then push away from the side of the pool, but with my feet, and swim under the water to the steps. When I surface, I swim to sit down on the top stair and start wringing the water from my shirt. Liam wades in the depths of the pool and then comes to join me, sitting on the opposite side of the stairs. He is as far away from me as the space will allow.

  “Can I tell you something?” he asks, inclining his head to the side.

  “Anything,” I breathe. I still haven’t gotten my respirations under control. And the scream I'd let out underwater took what extra oxygen I had left in my lungs.

  “I’m not sure how you’ll take it. Maybe I shouldn’t.”

  “You can’t ask me and then not say it! That’s hardly fair.” I pout. He laughs at my sudden outburst.

  “It’s not a question, but more of a… statement.”

  “Please?” I pout again.

  Liam presses his lips together into a line and then he must decide that he can tell me. I will only beg him until he does, so it works out better for me. I won’t have to seem quite so pathetic.

  “Okay, but it’s sort of embarrassing.”

  “That's why we're here,” I playfully remind him.

  “Well, maybe embarrassing is the wrong word… It’s more awkward I guess. Just forget I said anything.”

  Okay, begging it is.

  “Liam you don’t have to feel awkward around me. Look, I’m in my underwear for crying out loud. I promise, you can tell me anything. Never be afraid to tell me something. Please?” I am trying to beg without it sounding like I’m begging. I’m not entirely sure that it’s working.

  He eyes me skeptically and makes a face.

  “Please?” I try again.

  “Oh, all right,” he says rolling his beautiful eyes. “But that's hardly fair, you know.”

  “What's hardly fair?”

  “The way you were looking at me. Those eyes of yours are dangerous.”

  “My muddy brown eyes are dangerous?” I say, unbelieving.

  “Breckin, they aren't anything like mud. Big brown doe eyes with green sunbursts? I've never seen anything like them. C'mon, I'd be willing to bet you get just about anything you want when you unleash the force behind those. They’re a dangerous force to be reckoned with.”

  “Yeah-no. I don't have any kind of unyielding force lying within, linked to powers of persuasion. And don't change the subject over to me. Out with it.”

  Liam sits up straight and squares his shoulders. He turns his entire body to face me and then focuses intently on my face, eyes locking with mine as if to make a point. All I’m capable of in that moment is staring idiotically back at him. He looks like he is getting ready to confess a very naughty crime, which causes the bad boy smile to surface.

  “Why is it, do you think I can’t leave you alone? It’s clear that you’re pure torture for me,” he says with a grin. “But yet I can’t seem to stay away. Why is that?”

  His question of sorts suddenly has me feeling flabbergasted. And a little angry. Who is this so-called statement more embarrassing for? Him or me? Leave you alone. What the hell does that mean? Is that what he wants? Good God, he did bring me here to tell me to stay away from him. Or did he? I’m so confused.

  “I’m sorry that it’s so difficult to be around me.” I snap. “If it’s so torturous for you, then why did you ask me to come with you today?” I realize that my response probably sounds a bit sharp, so before I can register his reaction, I try to recuperate my words. “I guess I just don’t understand where you’re going with this.” I add quietly.

  His face has hardened again and I try not to believe that it’s in reaction to my tone. But I can sympathize with what he’s saying I guess, maybe-sort of, now that I think about it. The thought of leaving him alone is just plain depressing for me to think about.

  “When you left the pool after what I’d done, I felt completely wretched. And I was sure that I’d lost any chance – although it’s a small chance if any at all – that I’d lost all hope of having you in my life. I had to explain myself. I told you that I can’t have you thinking that I’m some kind of scary psychotic.” He softens his expression. “And it’s not difficult to be around you. That’s probably an overstatement. It's quite pleasurable being in your company. I’ll just have to be on my best behavior.”

  “I wouldn’t have thought that anyway – the part about you being a psycho. That’s ridiculous,” I reply, shaking my head. “Psycho's carry around butcher knives and throw pretty girls into the backs of blacked-out vans. I tried telling you before that I was glad that you said those things to... him. He deserved it.” I don’t want to say Ben’s name.

  “Let’s change the subject,” he says quickly. I scrutinize his face for a short second and I’m sure that he hasn’t really said all that he’d been planning to. “Bring on more of the embarrassing and uncomfortable questions.”

  We both laugh.

  “All right,” I agree. “I don't have much. How old are you?”

  “That’s not very embarrassing,” he scoffs. “I’m eighteen. My birthday is December twenty-fifth,” he answers before I can inquire about that.

  “Christmas? Is it really terrible to have to share a birthday with such a celebrated holiday? I always thought that it wouldn’t be so cool having a birthday shared with Christmas.”

  “Yeah, it’s kind of annoying. Although my mum tried her best to make sure that I didn’t feel that way.” Liam narrows his eyes playfully then. “Don’t you have anything else that’s considered embarrassing? Don't you want to ask me if I have any weird fetishes or if I hide the bodies of pretty girls in the back of my van?”

  “Hilarious!” I sneer sarcastically. “Hmm, let me think… Well, what’s your most embarrassing moment then? Tell me that since I’ve got nothing.”

  “All right. Wow, I haven’t thought about this in quite a while.” He’s laughing again. “I’m getting embarrassed just thinking about it.”

  “It must be good then. Go on.” I encourage eagerly.

  He hesitates, but then goes on anyway.

  “Ugh. Okay. It was a couple of years ago, after a big football match. Our team was headed for the national title, so this was a game we had all pumped ourselves up for in a really big way. Way too much testosterone flying around,” he chuckles. “The score was tied and I remember my adrenaline was pumping so fiercely that it seemed to make me even more aware than I already was of my surroundings. It was weird,” he says shaking his head slightly. “We were all huddled together with the coach – he telling us of our instruction. Everyone was counting on me – I could hear it, feel it. I was surprised that I could concentrate on the play he had called due to all the cheering and screaming from th
e crowd.”

  “I don’t see how this is embarrassing,” I interrupt.

  He puts one finger up. “Wait for it.”

  “Sorry,” I mutter.

  “Anyway,” he continues with a smile. “To make a long, boring sports story short, I made the goal and we won the big game. After, everyone rushed the field. Myself and a few others were hoisted up onto various people’s shoulders while the cheering continued and somehow got even louder. We had taken our shirts off somewhere in the middle of dumping the cooler onto our coach’s back and receiving congratulations from everyone. It was pure chaos in the literal sense. Police officers were trying to handle the crowd without success. It was what I imagine a riot might look like. I’m not sure really how it happened, there was a lot going on all at once. But all of the sudden it was extremely drafty…cold, er…”

  He seems unable to finish with the rest of the story. He starts to fidget and plays with the seam to his shorts. I don’t understand what he’s getting at. It was cold, what is so funny about that? I furrow my eyebrows.

  “You’re really going to make me say it out loud!” he exclaims.

  “I’m confused.”

  “UGH! I was cold because my shorts weren’t on my body anymore. I stood there like a ninny, buck naked!”

  “OH!” I gasp, suddenly realizing. I blush when I try to picture it. “That would be pretty embarrassing.” I say in a low voice.

  “Yeah, it was. Humiliating! In front of all those people, too.”

  “Yikes.”

  We both laugh again, but I fall silent before he does as that incapacitating urge I’d felt before overtakes me. My entire body aches to touch him. His laughing ceases when he reads my face and he becomes both wary and serious. I am not doing a very good job at hiding how much I want him. When he smiles like that, so effortlessly, and the way his eyes light up making me want him without even trying, it makes it hard to resist him like this. Especially when we’re alone. All alone.