by Leddy Harper
“And then you broke my heart,” I said, finishing his sentence for him.
“And then I broke my own heart, Bree.” His tone grew stern and harsh again before he paused and visibly calmed down. “But yes, then that happened. I wasn’t going to give it to you because I didn’t want to complicate things more so than they already are. But I couldn’t keep it. You deserved to get something on your birthday, to know that you were thought of. Even if I shouldn’t think of you, you need to know that you’re worth so much more than you give yourself credit for.”
I pushed his chest and pulled my hands away, finally releasing the CD. He stumbled back a step, but never let the case fall. I wanted to keep pushing him, to release all my anger on him, but I couldn’t do anything other than stand there and hold his gaze across the dark space that separated us. “You have a hell of a way to show it.”
“Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll take it back.”
“No!” I rushed him, frantically grabbing at his hands. “No! Don’t take it back. That’s not what I want.”
“Then what do you want, Aubrey?” He raised his voice and lowered his face to mine. His warm breath skimming across my cheeks made me realize how cool the night was. He shook my hands away and grabbed my biceps, his heated palms made me notice the chill on my arms through my thin sleeves.
“I want to rewind time. I want to go back to January fifth before school started,” I whispered, the weight of it all suddenly crushing my chest.
“Why that day?”
“Because instead of sitting in my seat, I’d sit on the other side of the room. And then I’d make sure I didn’t go to school for a few days after that until the side of my face healed. If I could just change those two things, I wouldn’t feel this way right now.”
He must’ve understood what I meant, because he dropped his hand, reached down to pick up the discarded present, and backed up a few steps. “I don’t. I wouldn’t change a thing. Even knowing the outcome, I wouldn’t go back in time and do a damn thing different. Bree, you’re the best person I’ve ever known. I’d rather endure this pain with the memory of you, than to feel nothing at all.”
“And how would you feel if I told you that this pain you speak of, the same pain that you believe is all worth it…what if I told you that it killed the person you knew? The one you say is the best person you’ve ever known…how would you feel knowing she’s gone?”
The darkness only intensified his silence, causing the shadow of his form to shrink, the air to turn colder, and the pieces of my broken heart to scatter in the breeze surrounding us.
“I ruined you?” he asked with such a soft yet strained voice it threatened my resolve.
“You broke me. I’ve never claimed to be a strong person. I’m well aware of who I am—who I was. I’ve survived a lot of things. I’ve picked up the pieces of my life more times than I can count. I’ve dried my eyes on my own shirt and taught myself how to keep going. But even a brick wall can only be beaten on so many times before it crumbles. I was weak when I met you, Axel. Capable of carrying on, focused on putting one foot in front of the other, but I was so damn weak. You offered support when I needed it the most. You were my cup of cold water in the last leg of a marathon. My lungful of fresh air during the homestretch of a swim meet. I would’ve made it to the finish line without you, but you helped make it easier on me. You didn’t enable me, you weren’t my crutch, and you certainly weren’t my savior. You were my companion. A shoulder to lean on, an ear that would listen, and a hand to hold.” I had to pause to catch my breath, the cold weather suddenly running through me until my lungs became the size of peas.
Axel remained stiff, unmoving in the shadows of night, but I knew without a doubt that he’d hung on to every word I spoke. And he felt every syllable. I also knew by the way his chest heaved in short, shallow breaths, that he feared what I’d say next, but he was unable to stop me from continuing.
“I may have been weak, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t capable. I was perfectly fine taking care of myself, not having to worry if my messed-up life would bring down someone else’s. But then you came along. You made my days easier, my thoughts brighter, and for the first time, I felt stronger. I thought it was because I had a friend. I was so elated to finally have someone in my corner, someone on my team, that I never thought twice about the aspects of our relationship. I thought what we had was normal, what any other friendships were like. But then you said something to make me question how you felt. Because up until then, I thought it was impossible for you to feel that way, but the words you said confused me, and I didn’t know how to deal with that. I didn’t want to ask you, because I wasn’t sure how I’d react to your answer. And I probably never would’ve asked had I not felt so comfortable talking to you. You dumped a lot on me that day and then walked away. Yes, I was crushed, my feelings were hurt, and I felt more alone than I ever had before. But then something changed.
“That Monday when we went back to school, I sat in class with everyone else. Except I learned something that no one else did that day. You were able to have such an impact on me, not because you were my friend, but because you were so much more, I just hadn’t allowed myself to believe it. You asked me how long it would take before I developed feelings for you, and the answer is: I already have.”
“Bree—”
“You walking away from me as a friend hurt. You walking away from me after I’d unknowingly handed you my heart? That, Axel, that was the wrecking ball that demolished me. It drowned me, suffocated me. And it verified that voice inside my head that has always been there, telling me that I’m worthless and unlovable.”
“How would me telling you that I’ve fallen for you, prove you’re unlovable?”
“My dad loved me, and he left. Walked away without a fight.” I fought back, my unforgiving voice taking him by surprise as he leaned even farther away from me. “I cried and begged him to stay, begged him not to leave me. But he did. You say you cared, yet that didn’t stop you from turning your back on me, even after I begged and pleaded with you not to end our friendship. I turned seventeen today, Axel. And standing here right now, I can say I’ve had only two people in my life that cared about me above the expected. Both left. If I were loveable, or worth more than that, why haven’t I had more than two people care? And why won’t they stay? If I’m so worthy, why didn’t they fight for me? Huh? The only person that ever fought for me was my mom, and that was out of personal gain. Not love.”
“Don’t lump me with your father, Aubrey. I’m not him. I don’t know why he left you, and quite frankly, I don’t care. To me, he’s a coward. There’s not a reason on this earth for any parent to walk away from their child. I didn’t abandon you. I was trying to protect you. So don’t compare me to a spineless man that threw you to the wolves.” His chest and shoulders flared as he leaned his upper body forward, resembling a cobra about to strike. “My decision wasn’t selfish. It didn’t benefit me in any way.”
My resolve cracked, melted, and evaporated during the time it took for him to say that. The heat of my anger cooled, and I had to wrap my arms around my body just to stay warm. Every ounce of courage and determination I had when trekking through the trees to get here vanished, leaving me a quivering, weak, and desperate fool.
“Aubrey,” he said as he rushed to me, catching me in his embrace seconds before my knees hit the grass beneath me. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me to him, offering heat and strength.
With his mouth near my ear, he repeated my words from weeks ago. “Please don’t do this.”
“What’s with our two-week curse?” I asked into his shoulder with a sniffled laugh, needing the seriousness to wane. “I’m almost scared to see what will happen in another two weeks.”
“What do you mean?” Axel pulled back slightly to see my face.
I kept my head down, not ready for him to see the pain in my eyes, but I answered anyway. “We were good, then I ended up here, then we were bad, and then I ended up here
again… If the pattern continues, you’ll be holding me in your yard while I cry sometime around March first.” The breaths of his airy laugh fanned my face, and it caused me to finally look at him, knowing we were going to be good again.
“Come on, you’re shivering. Let’s go inside.”
I cocked my head to the side in disbelief of his words.
He grabbed my hand with a steady smile on his lips. “To talk, Bree. It’s cold out here, and you’re not wearing a jacket. This conversation isn’t over, so I’m not letting you go home. Not to mention, your breath smells like you’ve been drinking. You need to sober up some so we can finish this talk.”
I let him pull me up by my hand, and then I covered my mouth with the other as if he’d told me I had morning breath. I followed him, keeping my head down in shame, until we were inside. The heat immediately hit me and calmed the shivers, yet my insides continued to quake with nerves. He led me to his couch, not releasing my hand until I sat, and then he went into the kitchen.
“All I have is water. I’m sorry. I’m not much of a coffee drinker, and the only kind I do like is the fancy shit from Starbucks,” he said, coming back into the room with a bottle of cold water. “But water works just the same.”
“I’m not drunk, Axel. I had some wine before I came over, and I think it gave me a buzz, but after all that”—I waved my hand in the direction of the sliding door—“I think it wore off.”
“Okay, so if you don’t need to sober up, let’s talk.”
I rolled my eyes and leaned back into the couch, avoiding his stare. “What do you want to talk about? I think we pretty much got it all out in your back yard. I’m not really sure what else there is to say.”
“Well, sum it up for me, then.”
I rolled my head against the back of the couch to face him, catching his sparkling eyes. “Sure thing, Mr. Taylor,” I said sarcastically, only releasing my laugh when he did. “Once upon a time, in a classroom not far from here, a young teacher met a student. She came to school one day with a bruise on her face and he wanted to kiss her boo-boos all better. He found out about her wicked mother and vowed to save her, but then he fell in love and was forced to walk away. On the night of her seventeenth birthday, she drank a glass of poisoned grape juice and ran through the enchanted forest to find him. Yada yada yada…they made up and all was right in the kingdom again.”
He blinked dramatically at me, but the corners of his lips turned up. “It’s funny how fairy tales always seem to get it wrong. But that was an interesting twist on it. For argument’s sake, what if the teacher wasn’t in love with her?”
My eyebrows shot up, but his expression remained soft, calming my nerves. “Okay. So then why did he tell her that?”
“He didn’t tell her that. He told her that he’d fallen for her.”
“Isn’t that just some cheesy, shortened version of ‘I’ve fallen in love with you’? What else would that mean, then?”
“Just that he has strong feelings for her that could maybe, one day, turn into something more. Something stronger. Possibly love.”
“Then I’d tell this teacher that he needs to learn how to correctly use romantic terms. Because ‘fallen’ implies it’s already happened. He’s a teacher for heaven’s sake. He should know the difference between past and present tenses.”
He smirked and his eyes lit up. “He’s already been through this with her. He’s a history teacher. Not an English professor.”
I laughed, feeling settled as we both comfortably slid right back into our old banter. “Well, he should at least know the difference between fallen and falling. I’m sure he’ll confuse a lot of students if he teaches them about how Rome is falling.”
“Touché.” He tried to appear offended, but his eyes gave him away. “Now, about the ending of this story. You said they made up. What does that mean? They can’t go back to being friends now that they’ve both admitted they have feelings for each other. They can’t be more than friends, because she’s his student. So what did they do?”
It was stupid to refer to ourselves as characters in a fairy tale, but for some reason, it made it easier to talk about the real issues at hand. It seemed to simplify things enough to rationalize them with level heads. “Well, I guess I imagined that they’d kind of have the best of both worlds. I mean, even when they were only pretending to be friends, they never really were. Their feelings for each other didn’t pop up overnight. So at some point in their relationship, they were more than just friends. Why couldn’t they just go back to that?”
“Back to what? Friends with emotions?”
I nodded, giving my chest a moment to loosen up. I felt as though I teetered on the precipice of rejection, and I needed to steel myself for it. I took a deep breath, released it, and continued. “Yeah. I don’t understand why it has to be one way or the other. You’re the one that wants to put labels on it. Can’t we just have a relationship without defining it?”
“It’s not that simple, Bree. I know you may not understand this because you’ve never had a romantic relationship before.”
“That may be true, but why do I need to have had experience to understand human nature? What we had worked perfectly fine before you decided to overthink everything. That’s your problem, Axel. You think too much,” I said, punctuating my words with a smile.
His head fell against the back of the couch and he let out an exaggerated sigh. “Bree…you’re not understanding.” He lifted his head again, making sure he had my attention before finishing his point. “Things go bad when people don’t think. When they don’t anticipate what could happen before they do something that they shouldn’t.”
After knowing about what had happened with my dad, Axel’s words hit me hard. They made me really listen to him, and think about the entire situation. He was right. Whatever decision we made, it had to be thoroughly thought out.
“Here are the concrete boundaries we have. They aren’t lines in the sand or chalk on a driveway. They won’t disappear or wash away. They aren’t bendable, there aren’t loopholes, and they aren’t to be questioned. I am your teacher—I’m in a position of trust. Teachers are expected to take the responsibilities of the parents when the students are in their care. Having a relationship with you is morally irresponsible. You are still a minor—I don’t care what the law says. You may be legally able to consent to sex, but you aren’t legal to vote, gamble, or drink.” He looked at me knowingly. “And you’re not considered a legal adult until you’re eighteen. So, you’re a minor.
“Those are our brick walls. The things we cannot change. You want to go back to the way things were, except we can’t. And here’s why: We were both under the impression that our friendship was innocent, meaning we saw each other as regular people, no impure thoughts, no indecent expectations, just another person to pass the time with. Our conversations remained clean because neither one of us wanted to be rejected or lectured for saying something inappropriate. But now you know how I feel, and I know how you feel. There’s nothing to stop us from fantasizing about each other, or discussing those thoughts. And it’s a very small step between words and actions.” His voice had grown strained toward the end, sounding as though it was hard for him to finish.
“We’d just have to make up some rules. Such as no talking about that kind of stuff. We’ll keep it clean. If we don’t talk about it, then the distance between words and actions is irrelevant.”
He shook his head in quick jerks, running his hands over the back of his neck. “Like I said, it was easy before because neither of us knew where the other stood. Had I randomly told you one night on the phone how badly I wanted to kiss you, what would you have done? Probably freaked out, gone silent, or made some excuse to hang up. I never said anything because I didn’t want to take that chance. But that’s all changed, because now, I know how you feel. So I have nothing to keep me from saying that to you.”
“You know I have feelings for you, not that I want to kiss you. Don’t assume that beca
use I care about you as more than a friend, it means I want to jump into bed with you. Don’t assume I want to kiss you, or be affectionate with you. That should be what holds you back from saying anything inappropriate.”
He held my gaze, strong and steady, as if calling my bluff. “Okay, fine. Maybe that’ll hold me off from saying it to you. But now that you know how badly I want to kiss you, what will happen when you want the same thing? What will stop you from saying it to me?”
“I don’t know how badly you want to kiss me. You’ve never told me that. You asked a hypothetical question about a theoretical confession. So that would be what would stop me from saying anything.” My heartbeat raced, nearly making me lightheaded, and I prayed he couldn’t hear it in my voice.
He leaned forward until he sat at the edge of the cushion, as close to me as he possibly could without getting off the couch. His dark lashes lowered slightly, giving his intense stare a sultry kind of feel, and freezing me in place. I couldn’t back up or move away if I’d wanted to. His tongue peeked out and slowly, seductively, moistened his lips. “Ever since that evening at the library, I’ve wondered what your lips would feel like on mine. I’ve imagined in vivid detail how your tongue would taste in my mouth. And I’ve gone to sleep nearly every night, dreaming about what sound you’d make when your lips part, that intake of air right before opening your mouth for me.”
All the oxygen in the room vanished and I felt flushed. My cheeks were feverish, my lungs ached from too much panting, and my limbs tingled. A tight, fiery knot burned low in my belly, and I squeezed my thighs together in the hopes of relieving the throbbing sensation in my groin that matched the beats of my racing heart.
“Now answer my question again,” he said in the same hypnotic tone he’d used when detailing his thoughts about kissing me.