Something There In Between

by S. Ferguson

  Turns out, taking a shower to try and clear my head is a horrible idea because I am even more confused when I finish.

  Wrapping myself up in a fluffy robe, I brush the tangles from my hair, and put in leave-in conditioner. My habit of constantly using my flat iron demands my hair stay moisturized.

  I scrub my face, clearing it of the smeared makeup I forgot to take off before showering. That’s another thing I never forget to do. Declan has my head messed up.

  My phone chirps, and I fish it out of my discarded jeans.

  I hope its Dec. I really hope it isn’t Dec.

  It’s Dec.

  Stop over-thinking.

  I almost drop my phone; my head pops up, looking around. How did he know I was thinking about everything? I thought I played it mostly cool when I left. Yeah, right.

  I don’t know what you’re talking about.

  For some reason, texting Dec is easy. I can be myself via text. I don’t feel the need to perform as much.

  It’s so easy to be snarky with him. Well, it’s easy in real life, too, but texting makes me feel like I can really be me.

  Right and I don’t know what you taste like. PS It’s delicious.

  I take a shuddering breath, feeling my body respond to his flirty message.

  Are you sexting me?

  He responds in less than ten seconds.

  Depends. Are you sexting me?

  I laugh out loud.

  Can you hear that? That’s the sound of me rolling my eyes at you.

  This time, I’m smiling in anticipation of his answer.

  B Girl you can roll your eyes all you want. I love it when you roll your eyes. For example earlier today, your eyes rolled to the back of your goddamn head while I swallowed your cum.

  Well, shit. He isn’t messing around, is he?

  That wasn’t fair because you won’t let me touch you.

  I know that makes me sound like I’m pouting, but I think I kind of am. It also sounds like I’m already counting on another round. Of course I am. Naked Dec is beautiful.

  I’d never been into chest hair, but for some reason it totally worked on him: his defined muscles, those tattoos, his big beautiful cock.

  Without thinking, I find myself reaching with my free hand to part my robe. The cold air hits my heated, naked skin, and I hiss out in pleasure.

  I didn’t let you touch me bc this wasn’t about me. This was about you. Besides you’re not ready. When you are, believe me, I’ll let you touch me all you want.

  What does he mean not ready? Of course, I’m ready. Sex is the only thing I really do. The only thing I’m good for. I close my robe again; his attitude about me not being ready kills my mood.

  Now tell me what you’re wearing.

  He can’t be serious. Oh well, two can play this game.

  I’m actually naked. Just showered.

  Let’s see what he thinks of that.

  I bet your skin looks all pink and rosy. Just like your little clit did earlier before I put my mouth on it. I miss it. You should give it a little rub for me. Tell her I say hi.

  And we’re back folks. My phone chirps again before I can form a response.

  I’m putting off showering as long as I can. I want to have your smell on me forever. Do you wanna see what you do to me?

  I don’t even hesitate to tell him yes. God, do I ever.

  I don’t wait long before my phone alerts me of a picture message. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t a selfie of him in his bathroom mirror.

  He’s naked and hard. His right hand is holding his phone up to take the picture, his bottom lip is between his teeth, and his left hand is gripping his stiff cock.

  It’s blurred a bit, and takes me a few seconds to realize that’s because it’s in motion. Declan is touching himself while talking to me. Well, texting me, sexting me, whatever.

  A devious thought enters my head. I’ve sent naked pics to guys before, but for some reason, like everything else, it feels different with Declan. Like it means more.

  To hell with it, I’ll do it. Before I can talk myself out of it, I open the top of my robe, lowering the collar until it’s just below my nipples.

  I bring my left arm under them to perk them up… I’m not exactly well endowed, and contort my right arm into an unnatural position to take the photo. I take a quick look to make sure it looks good and you can’t see my face.

  Once that’s done, I hurry and press send before I can give myself more time to second guess my decision.

  It’s almost a full minute before my phone chirps, right about the time I decide I must have fucked up somehow sending him the pic.

  Fuck. So fucking hot. Next time I’m coming all over your tits. Would you let me do that? Swear to fuck I’ll eat you before and after. Let me come on your tits.

  Everything below my waist clenches, and I rub my thighs together. I’ve never been this turned on from just texting. Before I can respond, my phone chirps.

  Just thinking about it and I came hard for the second time today.

  There’s an attached picture, and it’s almost the same as before, only this time Dec is looking right into the mirror and his cock is about half-mast.

  There is an unmistakable puddle of cum on the bathroom counter. A puddle. I didn’t think guys came that much, especially for the second time in one day.

  At least, I know I’m not the only one who's being affected so strongly.

  I know, in this moment, that I have to change. It scares the shit out of me.

  I don’t even know what I’m supposed to change into. But I know this girl won’t last much longer. I know that, right now, I am the shell of a human.

  I’m looking around and seeing everyone living the life I know I should be. Relationships are forming, friendships are thriving, the loyalty of Ron’s group, the family they have all made. I want to be a part of that; I don’t want to be on the outside anymore.

  I don’t know where to begin. Declan seems like the safest choice. I know he’s trying. He doesn’t seem to have bought into the image I present to the outside world. He’s always seen through it. I know he wants to help me. I know I can’t… I know it’s not in me to try to love someone again, but I can be friends. I can be a friend. I can see where this goes.

  19

  Bree

  Sweat is pouring down my face as I’m training with Ze again. By an unspoken understanding, we found ourselves meeting every day at one in the afternoon. Today, he has me doing a lot of work using the BOSU ball: planking while balancing on it, and doing push-ups while holding the sides of it while it’s upside down.

  There is nothing pleasant about this but I surprise myself more than once by being able to do what he’s asking.

  Once again Ze waits until I’m in a vulnerable position, unable to move away, before he starts his questioning.

  “So tell me about this boy.” He squats beside me.

  I can feel his gaze, but I don’t turn my head, instead continuing to focus on raising and lowering my body while holding the wobbling BOSU. My core is screaming, and my arms are shaking, but I refuse to stop.

  The physical pain is a welcome distraction from the emotional pain his question brings to the surface.

  “I don’t want to talk about him,” I grit through my clenched teeth.

  “Good thing I didn’t ask you if you wanted to. I said, tell me.” The authority in Ze’s voice manages to come through, despite the calm tone he maintains.

  I’ve never heard him raise his voice; something tells me he doesn’t need to.

  “I met him when I was 16.” My mind is a flurry of memories as I try to calculate how little I can tell him while satisfying his curiosity. Realizing this is futile I decide to give him the summary, to tell him what happened when Alex left. I’m fairly certain that’s what he wants to hear anyway.

  “And…” God, Ze can be annoying.

  “It was a year ago. I followed Alex into the store against Ron’s advice. I should hav
e listened.” I pause to shake my head at my own stupidity. What else was I was supposed to do? I had searched everywhere for him. “To just stumble onto him walking into the corner store, was like a gift from heaven. I had no choice; I had to follow him. To find out what had happened to him, to us.

  “‘Don’t go fucking searching ’til you’re ready for what you’ll find, Bree,’ Ron had said.”

  I should have listened.

  “I just couldn’t believe that, after a year of searching, I’d finally found Alex. It didn’t seem real. I was so excited. So happy and relieved that he was alive. I could still remember our last conversation: Alex telling me he loved me as he packed to go out of town for a week with his new job. I was so happy when he had found work with one of the larger construction companies in town. We were on our way. Not bad for being on our own since we were 16. But we had each other… Always.” I stare at the BOSU, refusing to look at Ze as I speak.

  “I didn’t know what happened to him, but I was sure we could come back from it. I was sure he had a good reason for being gone so long. We would be fine. I just needed to let him explain to me what had happened.”

  Then, he would wrap those long arms around me, and hold me, making everything okay again. Alex was the other half of my heart; there was nothing we couldn’t get past. He was all that I had in this world, my only family, my only friend, and my lover. There was nothing I couldn’t forgive.

  “Then, I saw her.” My face is burning with my humiliation.

  She had been tall and blonde, the complete opposite of me in almost every way. She had no tattoos or piercings. She looked like someone Alex would have made fun of in the past. He always called them Mandy, Candy or Brandy, some version of a generic sorority girl name, saying their names were as unoriginal as they were. This time, however, she sauntered up to him, and wrapped her arm around his waist while placing her head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and kissed the top of her head. The same gesture he had done with me a million times.

  “Because it's the only part of you I can reach without bending in half,” he had explained, when I asked him why he always kissed me there.

  My heart stopped beating.

  “I must have made some sort of sound because they both turned around, looking a little startled. Alex’s eyes met mine, and I didn’t recognize them anymore.” I take a shuddering breath.

  Beautiful blue eyes that held my entire world narrowed, and I saw hatred in them. The scathing look he sent me would have wounded me further had it been possible.

  “‘What do you want, Bree?’ He acted like I was annoying him.

  “I told him how I had been looking for him. I struggle to breathe, my heart beating out of my chest. This can’t be happening. This can’t be real. Even now the same thoughts run through my head.

  “Then he fired a fatal shot. “‘It’s been a year, Bree. You need to let it go and move on.’ Alex just rolled his eyes and turned around, dismissing me.

  “I tried to explain to him how much it hurt, how he was just walking away from me. But he wouldn’t listen. It hurt so fucking much.” I risk a glance at Ze, he’s looking at me, his face full of compassion. I don’t see any pity, thank God.

  “I didn’t think he could get any colder after that, but I was wrong. Alex shot me an annoyed look and said ‘I didn't come back to see you because it didn’t bother me not to.’” At this point I’m done, I don’t want to talk anymore. I also know this isn’t an option with Ze.

  Those words had been a cold blade slicing through my chest. Looking back, I’m pretty sure this was the exact moment my heart died. What had been left after his disappearance shattered spectacularly, all the broken pieces crashing to the scuffed up tile floor of a corner shop. I actually caught myself looking down at the floor to check if I could see them. All my anger deflated, and overwhelming grief slammed into me.

  “What happened then,” Ze asked, ignoring my desire to stop talking.

  “Alex walked away, whispering something into the blonde’s ear without sparing me a second glance. I just stood as still as a statue. I couldn't move. I couldn't speak.”

  I had learned in that moment that not only was I easily cast aside, I wasn’t even worth a proper explanation. I wasn’t worth the energy of a goodbye. My view of reality had been skewed. This was a lesson of the harshest kind. I really was the worthless cast off I had been raised to believe.

  “I don’t know how long I stood there. Eventually, an employee walked over whispering that I needed to leave or they would have to call the cops. I nodded silently, tears falling as I stumbled out.

  “Then I walked the streets for hours, mulling over these what I had learned.” I punctuate my sentence with a tight squeeze to the edges of the BOSU.

  “I couldn’t talk to anyone about it. Alex had always been my best friend anyway, my only friend. I knew I needed to get my shit together. I wondered how everyone could look at me, and expect me to function, when I wasn’t even whole. I had a gaping wound in my chest, blood and gore dripping on the floor. How can you ask me about anything else when I… can’t… breathe?” That was the first time I’d ever spoken to someone about my panic attacks. I watched Ze’s face, but saw nothing but genuine concern.

  I wish I could have told Ze I eventually healed. I wish I could say I got better. But I can’t. You don’t recover when the most important person in your life shows you how little you mean to them, how worthless you are. Add this to the perfect storm that already was my life… No one was coming back from that.

  “So that’s the ending, I want to know more about the beginning. How did the two of you end up working for Ron?” Clearly Ze has no mercy for me today.

  “I didn’t have a good relationship with Mo…my mom. She didn’t like me. She could be…cruel. Alex recognized what was going on and offered me a way out.”

  There, that’s mostly the truth.

  “So, living on the streets, that was his ‘way out’?” Ze does air quotes, and gives me a look so I hard I can feel it.

  “We didn’t have anywhere to go. Neither of us had good parents, or access to any money. We did the best we could.” I defend Alex. I don’t know why, but I feel like I have to.

  “If you say so… Where’s your father?” Ze asks the one question I don’t have to lie about to avoid answering.

  “He’s dead. I never knew him. Mother said he died right after I was born.” The sting of all the times I spent wishing he was around makes my eyes blur with tears.

  When you’re helpless to escape the one parent you have, when there is no one in your corner, you can’t help but imagine how different things could have been. Would my father have gone along with Mother’s abuse? Would he have protected me? Taken me away and given me a real family? I’ll never know, and it’s pointless to keep asking myself those questions. I learned that a long time ago.

  “And you’re sure of that? That your old man is dead?” Ze asks, raising an eyebrow in question.

  “I have no reason not to believe it. I’m 20 years old. I think I would have heard from him by now.”

  “If you say so,” Ze repeats, giving me an odd look, like he doesn’t believe it’s true.

  I don’t know why Mother would have lied about my father being dead. She never wanted me around, so wouldn’t she have wanted him to get me off her hands? It doesn’t add up in my head.

  Thankfully, Ze seems to think that’s enough serious talk and starts directing me to move to the punching bags, which are quickly becoming my favorite part of our sessions.

  Another two days of Ron-enforced time off, and I’m feeling restless. Ron insisted I take breaks before the meeting that he keeps rescheduling.

  I’m beginning to think the meeting is never going to happen, and Ron is just using it as an excuse, along with taking advantage of Declan working the bar now, to make me rest.

  For the first time in my life, free time isn’t quite as scary. Today, I know I need to push myself a little further out of
my box.

  Deciding I need to act before I chicken out, again, I grab my phone and start typing a text. Friends text, right?

  What are you up to?

  Excellent text Bree...simple and to the point. I mentally high-five myself, and wait for him to answer.

  OK, who died?

  What? What does that mean? Is he joking? Maybe texting wasn’t a smart choice because I can’t hear his tone of voice.

  Ummmmm… No one. I thought I would see what you were up to. If you’re busy it’s ok.

  I feel like that seems desperate even if that was the opposite of what I’m going for. How the hell do you act nonchalant when you are very, very much ‘chalant’, or whatever the hell that word means?

  I’m never too busy for you B Girl. You wanna hang out? I can bring some lunch over.

  You can do this, Bree. You can do this. I take a deep breath before sending my response.

  Yes.

  I look around the apartment and it’s still clean, but I tidy up anyway. It’s never dirty…I would have to actually live here for that. I just use it to shower and sleep because it's the only place I have. This apartment isn’t my home, and it hasn’t been for a long, long time.

  I make another quick scan before taking a quick shower, then throw on some black jeans and black tank top. I don’t want to look like I tried too hard.

  Maybe I should ask Ron if I could move? Before I can think any further about that idea, I hear a knock on my door.

  “That was fast as hell,” I say as I open the door wide for Declan to walk through.

  “I was actually in the neighborhood,” he responds, looking anywhere but at me.

  “You were checking the bench, weren’t you?” As much as it irritates me that he knows about my sacred place, I kind of like the idea that someone was looking for me.