by Lola Rooney
“I do not blush,” Lucas said as he stared into my eyes. Before I could offer up a contradiction, he went on. “But I do trip all over myself every time I look at you. Do you have any idea how stunning you are?”
“I’m not—” I began, but then his hands began to move against my bare skin and I had to bite my bottom lip to stop myself from screaming with anticipation. The back of his hands brushed against the bottom of my breasts and I sucked in a breath, bracing myself against Lucas’s body.
In one fluid motion Lucas pulled his shirt off and I found myself exploring the curves of his chest while he explored mine. There was something so intimate about being in bed with him, our bare skin pressed together, that I felt a little lightheaded. Then his thumbs slid across my nipples and I wasn’t just lightheaded anymore. I was mindless. The tension inside of me began to build in a way I’d never felt before and a tingling took over my limbs as I found his lips, his hands still caressing my breasts with such delicacy, as though I were a precious thing. The room spun around me and I knew nothing at all except the feeling of his hands on me. Then he broke our kiss and lowered his face to the skin of my breasts. Just one touch of his lips and the world exploded into tiny little pieces that did not fall around us but drifted down, slowly, like snowflakes.
When I came back to my senses I was lying with my cheek against Lucas’s chest, the bed sheet draped lightly over us, and my entire body seemed to be singing. Lucas trailed his hand along my back and it was as though a musical note erupted everywhere he touched.
“Well, that was new,” I whispered. I was trying not to feel be embarrassed and failing miserably.
In response Lucas shifted me upwards and placed a kiss against my warm cheek. “That was amazing,” he said, brushing my hair away from my face.
“Really?” I said. It bothered me that he hadn’t felt all the same things that I had. Wasn’t it my turn now? Wasn’t that how this worked? “Do you want me to…”
I reached downward, wanting to feel him, but then I hesitated. I had no idea where the towel was at this point and touching him there without any barrier…that wasn’t something I’d ever done before.
Taking my hand in his, he brought it to his lips and kissed it. “I definitely want you to,” Lucas said, “but there is the matter of the exam I’m supposed to be taking in about an hour.”
Glancing at the clock on my bedside table, I saw that he was right.
“All right,” I said. “But don’t forget, it’s your turn next. Fair’s fair.”
“Oh, I won’t forget. Trust me,” Lucas replied, running an idle hand down the front of my body and planting a kiss on my lips before swinging his legs to the floor. “I’m pretty sure I’ll be not forgetting all through my statistics exam, too.”
As he got out of bed my suspicions about the towel were confirmed. He was entirely naked. As he pulled on his boxers and wandered down the hall in search of food, I pressed my face into the pillow and giggled like an idiot. For about five straight minutes.
“Will you stop picturing me naked and get in here?” Lucas said, poking his head back into the room. And this time I wasn’t too embarrassed to show him my beaming grin.
We wolfed down our meal of cold bacon and toast, which had never tasted so good, and got dressed. He let me chastely put on my clothes in the bathroom, as I’d been doing every time he came over in the morning. I might have just been topless in front of him, but there was something about putting on clothes that struck me as decidedly unsexy. I wasn’t quite ready for him to see me struggling to button my jeans as he displayed his rock-hard abs.
As we walked toward campus, Lucas took my hand in his. This was another new thing we were doing, that I was trying to get used to. It drew a lot of attention, which I tried to bear without too much squirming. It helped that he kissed me every chance he got. Nothing made my mind go blank like Lucas’s lips on mine.
“So you and…Brandon,” Lucas said. He always had trouble saying his name. “You never did anything like that?” I guessed his meaning: Had Brandon and I ever come close to having sex?
I struggled not to groan. Over the last little while it had become glaringly obvious that whenever he wasn’t occupied appreciating my body Lucas’s mind drifted to my stalker and the few details I’d told him about the situation. I wasn’t sure how much longer the story I told him was going to hold up, which left me in a cold sweat.
“No,” I said stiffly, hoping he’d sense my wariness of the subject and back off, but he kept glancing my way, waiting for more. “I was younger. We never got to that step.”
Because I was in middle school, was what I didn’t say.
“So you broke it off?” Lucas persisted.
Actually, no. When I woke up covered in blood he was already gone.
“I guess you could say it was a mutual decision,” I replied.
He didn’t look too happy with me when I was testifying that I’d never seen him before in my life.
“I’m getting the impression that you don’t really want to talk about this,” Lucas said, putting an arm around my shoulder. I leaned into him, letting the past fade to black as he held me close, feeling the safety of his arms. “I know you probably think I’m obsessing. I just can’t stand the thought of him hurting you again.”
“How could he,” I said, forcing a smile, “with you standing guard?”
We went into our favourite coffee shop, the same one where we’d shared that molten brownie months ago, and my eyes lingered on the table we’d sat at that day. It seemed ages ago, before I knew Lucas, before I trusted him.
Before I put him in danger.
“Oh, I almost forgot. I wanted to show you something,” Lucas said. He handed me a pamphlet as he stepped up to the counter and ordered our drinks—a hot chocolate for me, extra whip, and a coffee with sugar for him. There were photos of kids playing various sports on the cover—soccer, volleyball, basketball—but every time I tried to read the words across the top they blurred.
I had the oddest feeling, as though I should scream, but I couldn’t think why. Outside the windows of the coffee shop the day was sunny. The leaves were beginning to grow in on the trees. The cafe was busy and buzzing with conversation. Lucas stood over by the counter, waiting for our drinks, winking at me. And yet it felt as though the world had suddenly tilted off its axis.
Something’s wrong, I thought to myself. What is it? What is it?
My phone buzzed and I took it out.
Em: So how’s Hottie McLover who makes you ignore your own TWIN?
I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding and searched for a clever response.
Me: Divine. Best McLover I ever had.
Em: I’m glad you’re happy, sis. You deserve it. But so do I, so he’d better have some hot friends.
Me: Like you’ve ever needed help finding a guy.
Em: Not in the Matthews league. You’re moving up and you’re taking me with you.
Me: You got it, sister.
I was still smiling at my phone when Lucas sat down at the table with our drinks.
“God, I’m going to need this to get through my exam,” he said, taking a sip. “Who’re you chatting with?”
“Just Em,” I said, pocketing the phone quickly. I’d been careful to keep my phone away from Lucas ever since I’d told him Brandon had been texting me. His nasty messages had been coming in steadily for the past few days, and they were just as curse-ridden as ever. If Lucas saw the true extent of those texts I was pretty sure he’d go mad and drag me to the police station kicking and screaming.
“So what do you think?” he said, looking at me expectantly.
“What?” I said in confusion, and then looked down at the table in front of me. “Oh, the pamphlet!” I saw now that it was a brochure for a local kids’ sports day camp.
Lucas said, “They need a basketball coach for this summer. I was thinking of applying.”
My mouth fell open a little as I looked from Lucas to the pam
phlet. It stayed that way until he leaned forward and gave me a peck on my open lips.
“I guess your look of utter shock means you think it’s a good idea?” Lucas joked, but I could tell he really wanted to hear my opinion.
“I’m so glad,” I said, poring over the glossy photos of the recreation center that would be used for the camp. “I never thought you’d get here so fast. I thought it might take you months, even years to learn to love basketball again.”
“Well, I don’t love it yet,” Lucas admitted. “But I thought maybe helping some kids learn to love playing might help me remember the good times I had with my dad. And it’s a paid position, too, so maybe I won’t have to work quite so hard next year.”
“You’ll be a natural,” I said. “Though, I warn you, all the little girls will be falling in love with you.”
“Too bad I’m head over heels for my girlfriend,” he said, and my heart skipped a beat.
Girlfriend.
I leaned forward and hugged him, breathing deeply of that intoxicating Lucas scent. “I’m so proud of you,” I said into his ear. “If only your old party pals could see you now. I bet they wouldn’t believe their eyes, Lucas Matthews out there doing his bit for the community.”
Lucas waved at someone over my shoulder. “Well, I guess we can ask one of them. There’s Oleg,” he said.
I froze in my seat, gripping my drink with both hands at the sound of the name. Oleg was the friend Lucas had called to clean up my apartment while we were in Christie the day after the breakin. He’d finagled Mariella into letting him in. He’s done an amazing job, too, even cleaning all the red paint off my walls and buying me a new pillow so that when we returned the place looked exactly as it had been before. It was such a relief to have the mess gone that I didn’t have the heart to scold Lucas for letting one of his friends into my nightmare. He wouldn’t have understood, anyway. The secret Lucas held was painful, but if someone found out it wouldn’t break him. He didn’t live in fear of the world finding out the truth about him.
Lucas didn’t know what it was like to live in shame.
“He’s waving me outside,” Lucas said as he got to his feet. “Come say hi.”
“No, you go. I want to read over my essay one last time before I hand it in,” I fibbed. “Tell him thank you for me again.”
“He was doing me a favour,” Lucas said, shaking his head at me. “And I already thanked him for you, twice.”
“Thank him again anyway,” I said as I rifled through my bag looking for my essay. “That’s a good friend you’ve got there.”
Any friend who would come clean up a mess like that with no explanation at a moment’s notice was as good as gold in my opinion. As I watched Oleg give Lucas a big bear hug—apparently he gave these out freely, drunk or not—I found myself hoping that Lucas would tell him about his father. I had the feeling Oleg would be more understanding than he knew.
When I pulled out the binder that held my essay, a small, balled-up piece of paper rolled out of my bag. Still half-gazing out the window at the guys, I wasn’t even paying attention as I straightened it out. I was so distracted that my hands started to tremble before the meaning of the words really penetrated my brain.
Enjoying that hot chocolate? Hope so, because it might be your last.
Ditch your handsome friend if you know what’s good for you.
Crumpling the note in my hand, I subtly scanned the room around me. The strange feeling I’d had before suddenly made perfect sense. Brandon had been here, in the room, watching me. He’d been close enough to put the note in my bag. And this time he hadn’t sent a friend to do his dirty work—I was sure of it. No, I was more than sure. I knew it. The feeling in my gut that something was terribly wrong—I’d only felt that way once before, the day he’d leaned toward me, knife in hand, and whispered murderous words in my ear.
A wave of nausea threatened to overcome me and my heart began to pound. My eyes darted around the room, but I couldn’t find him. Maybe he’d already left? Didn’t seem likely. This moment, the moment I read the note he’d placed so perfectly, was his prize. He wanted to see me shake. He wanted to make me cry with fear.
Suddenly I realized that unlike every time I’d received a text from him, unlike the day of the breakin, I didn’t feel the urge to burst into tears or to hide. Instead, I felt an all-encompassing rage. My fingers gripped my drink so tightly the cup collapsed, sending scalding chocolate over my hand, though I hardly felt it.
He thought he could threaten Lucas and get away with it? We’d see about that.
By the time Lucas returned I’d composed myself enough to look normal. I figured if he noticed I was on edge he’d think it was about my paper. As I stood up to meet him, I turned over the napkin I’d left behind on the table.
“I was thinking of driving up to see my mom,” Lucas said as we crossed the campus. “I figure it’s about time, and I don’t have any exams for a few days. I could tell her about the job.”
I grasped his hand tightly. “Sounds like a great idea,” I said.
And it did, considering the note I’d left for Brandon on my napkin back at the coffee shop.
I’ll be waiting
18
But he didn’t come.
I knew Lucas wouldn’t make it easy for me. Since he couldn’t be there to babysit me while he was visiting his mom, he brought in reinforcements. That very night, just minutes after I’d waved Lucas off on his drive to Christie, Em showed up with a pile of rom coms for a movie night. She claimed we’d planned it weeks ago, but I knew better. Who planned a movie night in the middle of exams? By the way she kept glancing at me as Julia Roberts laughed her big-teeth laugh, I could also tell that Lucas hadn’t given her all the details about why I needed watching. He probably thought she already knew the whole story, and Em, who thought we told each other everything, would never have asked. Her expectation of a big tearful revelation—I could feel her readying herself whenever the movie went quiet enough for us to talk—made me fidgety. I ended up eating more than my half of the bowl of extra butter popcorn. Okay, I basically ate the whole bowl.
Then I realized I’d just ingested all those empty calories for nothing. If Em didn’t know why she had to stay, I could easily make up a lie to get rid of her.
It only took about ten minutes to convince my sister that: One, I knew Lucas had asked her to come over. Two, Lucas was just being way overprotective. And three, she didn’t really have to stay over because I wasn’t in any danger. I used my master lying skills to make up a story that Mariella had seen a creepy guy lurking around the building and Lucas had overreacted. But I was pretty sure it was just the super’s son, Gregory; I knew Em would buy this, because she also thought Gregory was creepy. I finished off with some sappy comments about how much I liked Lucas and how I was pretty sure we were falling in love—not even really a lie, at least on my part—and wasn’t it sweet of him to be so worried about me?
Emily ate it up.
By nine o’clock she was out the door and I went into defense mode. I pulled my baseball bat out from under my bed and put it on the couch. But one weapon didn’t seem like enough. What if he wrested it out of my hands? Then I’d have nothing. I prowled around my apartment looking for anything I could use as a weapon. At the end of thirty minutes I had two butcher knives, the lamp from my bedside table—it had a heavy base—a cast iron pan, and a roll of duct tape. I figured if I got him on the ground I’d need something to tie him up with before I ran for my life.
I assembled my collection on the coffee table—except for the bat, which never left my hands—and then I was back in my ideal spot on the couch, watching and waiting.
I had plenty of time to freak out as my eyes flicked from the window to the door to the other window to the hall, but I felt surprisingly calm. I was glad I’d invited Brandon to come and find me, glad to be waiting instead of always wondering. I was ready for this to be over. Even though I had no idea what I was going to say to him, I was
ready to face him.
But he didn’t come.
As the hours passed my body began to protest. I’d been sitting with my muscles tensed for so long that when I put the bat down in my lap my fingers stayed curled. I needed water, but I didn’t want to move, sure that he was waiting somewhere nearby and the sound of my footsteps would alert him to my presence. But then, wasn’t that what I wanted?
My initial calm began to dissipate and a lowlying paranoia took its place as the night wore into the wee hours of morning. Every creak of the building, every tiny sound made me jump and grip my bat. At one point I nearly swung at Turner as he crept across the carpet. After that he smartly kept out of my way. I started furiously planning how I would handle each of my weapons, the best way to grip the lamp, how I would lunge, with the knife in one hand or both. These fantasies got more and more elaborate as I began to incorporate all the different ways Brandon might attack me. He’d probably learned all kinds of new techniques in jail, even if it was a youth jail. He was probably like an assassin now. I began to picture him wearing all black and a ski mask so he would blend in with the shadows. After that, even the shadows started to alarm me and I added them to my rounds of the room: window, shadow, door, shadow, shadow, window, shadow, hall.
Sometime around four a.m. I started to nod off from exhaustion. It was then, when my defenses were down, that the memories fell over me like a suffocating blanket. This time there was no hope of turning my thoughts away. The memories were too many and too strong and I was too weak. I could do nothing but submit to them. I could do nothing but clench my jaw against the screams and endure.
I saw the blade of Brandon’s knife against a background of green grass.
I saw little Tommy’s back as he ran ahead of me—“Race you to the train tracks, Katie!”—his white t-shirt bright against the dark trees.