Seeking Havok

by Lila Felix

  “Do I look that pathetic?”

  He shrugged and knelt down in front of me, “No, just like a girl having trouble with her shoes, a very beautiful girl.”

  He buckled them both, and at some point the sensation of his fingers on my ankles felt so good that I closed my eyes.

  “Falling asleep already?”

  I came to, “No, just taking it all in.”

  “You’re making this really hard on me.”

  “What?”

  “I promised myself I wouldn’t kiss you until you’d had a full on proper date. Do that thing one more time with your eyes closed, licking your lips and I’m not gonna make it. You have no idea how damned tempting you are.”

  I suppressed the urge to grab him by the collar and end his want right there and then—barely.

  “I’m ready to go when you are.”

  “Great. Stay here.”

  He ran outside and I didn’t know what was happening until a knock at the door confused me.

  I answered the door to Cal, holding the prettiest multi-colored carnations, and his priceless smile.

  “Thank you,” I said through a grin so wide it was hurting my jaw—smiling wasn’t a habit of mine.

  I set them inside and he followed.

  “Now we’re ready.”

  We walked out and in front of the building was a black, older Ford Bronco.

  “It was my high school graduation present. I had Camille drive it over, her husband drove her back home. I don’t really need it around here, but we’re going a good distance.”

  “And here I thought I knew everything about you.”

  “Not even close.”

  He opened my door for me and I crawled in, trying my best not to completely humiliate myself in these shoes. I saw him walk around and decided to lean over and unlock his door so he didn’t spend too much time on that side of the car, in traffic.

  “You unlocked my door,” He accused as he slid into the driver’s side.

  “Yeah, I didn’t want you standing on the street too long. It’s traffic time.”

  He shook his head and mumbled something to himself. Twenty minutes later we arrived at a place right on the Vermillion River. I stared at it, completely intimidated by the building itself and a voice that seemed to come from it, telling me I had no business being there.

  Cal got out and opened my door but I didn’t budge.

  “They serve the food inside,” he goaded me.

  “Yeah, I got that,” I said, blowing that incessant clump of hair from my face.

  “Come on,” He offered me his hand. I took it and got out of the Bronco, but still didn’t make any attempt to move.

  “Havok. You look amazing. It’s just a place to eat. Where’s my girl, full of smartass quips, the one who always looked like she could take on the world by herself?”

  “I lose my superpowers in dresses and heels.”

  He broke out in a laugh, shaking his head. “No, I don’t think you do.”

  We went inside, seated by a stuffy maître ‘d.

  “So tell me, Purdue or LSU?”

  I fiddled with the cloth napkin in front of me, “I’ve always wanted to go to LSU, but now I’m thinking Purdue, especially since they gave me a full scholarship.”

  “It’s a good school. You’ve even got me really thinking about going back.”

  A smile crept up on me, “You should, but if you go to LSU, you’d be far away.”

  “No, I couldn’t stand to be that far away.”

  The rest of the meal was spent that way, talking about futures and who we would be down the road. I avoided the past Havok, and something inside told me that he was avoiding a big part of himself too.

  “We should get home. You’ve got to get to work. And you haven’t slept much.”

  “They decided to play an old show tonight. I told them I wasn’t coming in. And they are letting me go to days, setting up a new show just for me. So I won’t be working nights for very much longer.”

  “What do you mean a show?”

  “Let’s go. I’ve got dessert waiting at home.”

  He didn’t answer my question. What kind of show was he talking about? What if he was some kind of radio show host and he knew Fade? What if I got to meet him? I didn’t know if that made me want to faint or run.

  She sat next to me in my Bronco. I didn’t want to be driving her home. Well, I did. I wanted to drive her home, tell her everything and just rid myself of the knowledge, its deceitful fingers drummed a sickening reminder in my head. But she’d run, back to her mother, back to that hell and I just couldn’t do that to her. I’d tried to hint at things a little that night, just to get the idea grinding in her head, but it didn’t seem to be working.

  I looked over and she was staring out the window, arms hugging herself.

  “Are you okay?”

  She looked over and gave me a lopsided grin, “Yeah. It’s weird.”

  “What’s weird?”

  “This, being happy.”

  “Being happy is weird.”

  She shrugged, “Not weird, different for me.”

  I used my hand to unfold her arms, let down her guards and laced her fingers in mine, “I’m gonna make sure that one day, it’s not different—I’m gonna make sure that one day happy is normal.”

  She looked down at our hands, “Are you sure it’s not too late for me?”

  I pulled over, hearing the hiccup on her voice. I put the Bronco in park and turned in my seat to face her.

  “Remember what you told me about school? You said it’s not too late for me. And it’s not too late for you either. You’re only eighteen…”

  “Nineteen.”

  “What? I thought you were—I didn’t know. Shit! I didn’t know, Havok. It’s today?”

  “Yeah, it’s fine. I never told you the exact date.”

  I dragged my hand down my ever growing scruff, “If I’d known, I would’ve…”

  “No,” She took my hand in both of hers, “This was the second best birthday I’ve ever had. I couldn’t have asked for more.”

  I looked down at our hands, and then back up to her face—her lips. But I had to resist, just a little more.

  “Wait, second best?”

  A smile beamed back at me, “Yes, second best. When I was five, my mom had my birthday at the Go-Kart track and there was a Strawberry Shortcake birthday cake. It was back when she was a regular mom.”

  “Well, hell, who can compete with that?”

  “Right? You can’t. It’s Strawberry Shortcake.”

  “My cake will never stack up.”

  She perked up, “You bought me a cake?”

  “Yeah, for graduation and college, and now your birthday.”

  “Do you know how much I love cake?”

  I sat in shock, she’d actually revealed something to me that she’d once told Fade.

  “I do now. What’s your favorite?”

  “Any, I swear it. Carrot cake, cheesecake, all of it.”

  “Well, let’s not delay.”

  I drove home, she never let go of my hand. Holding the truth back from her ticked in my head driving me deeper into guilt as we approached the apartment. But the consequences of telling her too soon were scarier. So I squelched them down for another time, hoping she didn’t notice the change in demeanor.

  We got inside and she immediately stepped out of the heels.

  “They looked so good. What a shame.”

  “Look!” She pointed the heel of her left foot in my direction and I could see a very angry bubble had brewed to life there.

  “I’m like the worst birthday date ever. First I don’t even know it’s your birthday and then I practically force you to wear those things,” I kicked one of the heels down the hall, “that gave you blisters.”

  “I know exactly how to make these go away.”

  “How?” I thought she knew some female secret blister go-away treatment.

  “First you have to go in the kitchen
…”

  “Ok…”

  “Then you have to get a fork and a knife…”

  “You can’t really expect me to pop that thing…”

  “And get me some cake.”

  “If I had known you would be so easily contented with cake I would’ve made sure I had more.”

  She held up her hands and looked from one to the other, “There’s still no cake here.”

  I cracked up at her silliness and scrambled to the kitchen. I didn’t make her blow out candles, especially since I didn’t buy any. I cut an extra big slice and placed it before her, fork and all and waited. She smelled it first, closing her eyes and inhaling. I’d gotten her almond cake with raspberry filling, which was Camille’s favorite. I thought maybe girls in general would like it.

  “Wedding cake,” she murmured.

  “Wedding cake?”

  “Yes, one of my mom’s friends got married and at her wedding reception she had this exact cake. The best wedding cake ever.”

  Paralyzed, that’s what I was sitting across from her at my table, watching her eat the cake I’d haphazardly bought.

  She pulled the fork slowly from her mouth and I had to grab the sides of the chair I was sitting in to resist grabbing her, pulling her onto my lap and showing that fork who really owned her mouth. But I couldn’t, not just yet. It had to be perfect—for her.

  I stared like a stalker as she smooshed the last of the crumbs through the tongs of the fork and slipped it into her mouth. The girl was a heart attack and she didn’t even know it.

  “A movie? I picked some up from one of those red vending machine things.”

  “Can I take this off first?” She pointed to the dress, so perfectly fit.

  “Sure, go ahead,” I stood in front of her, arms crossed.

  “Yeah, I’m not a stripper, you must have me confused with my mo…with someone else.”

  “Go change, I’ll go set up the movie.”

  She walked down the hall to her room and I let out a chuckle as soon as her door closed. She’d nearly told me about her mother. And instantly I felt awful for toying with her like I was. I moved to the living room to set up the next coincidence between me and Fade. I put the movie into the DVD player and cut through the previews, hitting pause when the movie started. I ran down the hall to my own room and exchanged my clothes for black pajama pants and a faded Beastie Boys t-shirt. I managed to beat her back to the living room and attempted to look relaxed as I prepared for the next phase.

  She came in seconds later with a pair of my boxers on and one of my hoodies.

  “I raided your closet.”

  “When? I was just in there.”

  “Um, the other night when you were at work.”

  “Really?”

  “Um, yeah, I—I missed you so I went to get one of your hoodies but then I didn’t have any clean shorts so I stole some of those too.”

  “It’s not stealing when it’s me Havok. You can have it all. Now, the best movie ever.”

  I flipped the movie on and she froze in place.

  Say it, ask me, for the love of all that’s holy, ask me, say something.

  “You like Howl’s Moving Castle?”

  “I like anything Hayao Miyazaki.”

  “Like what?”

  “Are you testing me? Spirited Away, Castle In the Sky, The Wind Rises…”

  She sat back and folded her arms, defeated. I waited until the scene with the scorch marks before goading her one more time, “So, you missed me?”

  “Every night.”

  Her words closed the distance between us, as she said it, she floated closer to me, nestling, taking her place under my arm.

  “What would you do,” she asked me, turning her elbow in my ribs.

  “Huh?”

  “If you were Sophie, would you save Howl from himself or let him go—let the monster take him over?”

  I mulled it over for a long while. Her question had nothing to do with the Japanimaton film we watched, it was about her.

  “I think everyone deserves a person that loves them enough to save them from anything—from the world, from their enemies, from themselves.”

  “Some people aren’t worth saving.”

  “Everyone is worth saving in the eyes of the one that loves them.”

  Silence filled the spaces between the characters’ dialogue on the screen and once it was over she was so still, I had to lean over and look at her face to confirm she wasn’t asleep.

  “I’m not asleep.”

  “Do you want to watch another one or are you sleepy?”

  She shook her head, “No.”

  Scooting up and turning my way I thought she would tell me ‘goodnight’ and call it a night. She pulled and pushed her ring clad bottom lip back and forth in and out of her mouth. The only sound I could hear was the clink of that ring on her teeth. She mulled something over. God, let it be the truth. I can hardly bare keeping this from her. It hasn’t even been twenty four hours and it’s as if charcoal were shading my conscience second by second.

  “Is my proper date finished,” she asked through a sigh.

  “If you want it to be.”

  “I put on a good front,” she said, picking at the strings of my pajama pants.

  I couldn’t speak, too afraid I’d spook her.

  “But that’s just to protect myself, you know?”

  “You don’t ever, ever have to protect yourself from me,” I took her hands and brought them to my lips, kissing each set of fragile hands.

  “Cal?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Kiss me.”

  I shook. My throat vibrated as the words left my mouth. Asking anyone for anything was rough for me. But this seemed like so much more than asking for a gesture. It made me feel small, needy and I hated feeling needy. And I loathed the feeling of vulnerability, especially in front of him. But the desire for him, the craving for physical contact, comfort at the hands of Cal, was undeniable. I’d been hooked on the sensation since spending the night at his apartment the first time. But I’d denied it, talked myself out of it, rebelled—mistaking need for weakness.

  And now, I just didn’t give a damn.

  I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t allow myself this moment.

  “Come here,” he said, pulling gently on my hands.

  I turned fully towards him, and he looked at me with something unrecognizable. Was it awe? Did I confuse him?

  “It’s adoration,” he answered my unspoken question, curling that unfailing clump behind my ear.

  “What is?”

  “The way I look at you. It’s care. It’s joy. It’s contentedness. It’s—it’s desire.”

  I sucked in a breath, a gasp really, intending to debate how wrong he was to feel that way about someone like me, but he never gave me the chance. My argument was stopped by his hot, rough hands on my face and I nearly fainted at the feel of security. Safe, I felt safe in his capable hands. I could almost hear the buzz from the magnetic attraction between us that I’d rebelled against for so long. But that time was long gone.

  I leaned in, not really knowing what in the hell to do or how to proceed. He scooted closer, “It’s just me,” he whispered. And with it, I let go. I shifted to face him on my knees. “You’re the only one I’d give this to. I’ve never kissed a guy.”

  “You’ve kissed a girl?” He joked, at a time like that, he joked.

  “Get a grip. I’m being serious here.”

  “I know. And I couldn’t be more honored. I got your first date and now your first kiss. And you already give me the world when you look at me the way you’re looking at me now.”

  I must’ve stared into his eyes for five more minutes and he never broke my gaze.

  He leaned in, the heat in the room nearly smothering me, swirling around us. And then both of his lips grazed my bottom lip, on one side of my piercing, and then the other. He slid his hands down my arms, and then grabbed my waist, lifting my shirt in the process as both of h
is lips enveloped mine and I let myself get lost in every second. He licked my top lip and pulled at it, then pressed his full mouth to mine. I whimpered, a sound I was sure I’d never made and he pulled back.

  “That was the best sound I’ve ever heard,” he told me, his lips grazing my jaw as he spoke.

  “Was that me,” I asked awakening from my trance.

  “Yeah, it was you. I can’t wait until the next time I rouse that sound from you.”

  “What are you waiting for?”

  He laughed and I finally opened my eyes again, “So greedy, already. We have time.”

  “Do we?”

  “Yes, I’m not ever going anywhere. Are you?”

  “No, I’m not,” I replied through a yawn.

  “Well, it sounds like you need to go to bed. And I’m getting kinda tired myself.”

  I nodded but didn’t want to move, so afraid that the goodness I’d finally found would poof into thin air if I even so much as breathed.

  “Come on,” he tugged me until I stood up and led me by the hand to my room.

  “Goodnight, birthday girl. I’ll see you tomorrow. You have plans?”

  “No, I need to go get a job. But I don’t think I can get much done on a Saturday.”

  “Let’s sleep in and then see what trouble we can get into.”

  “Sounds good. Thanks Cal.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said and then kissed my forehead, though I now wanted his lips on mine again.

  We slept in until noon the next day. It felt so indulgent—and lazy. I stumbled into the bathroom and showered quickly. I’d already wasted half of the day. After getting out, I brushed my teeth and heard Cal bustling about. After throwing some clothes on, I went to the kitchen to put on some coffee but he’d beat me to it.

  “Good morning,” he said. I crunched my eyebrows together, trying to remember the last time someone told me good morning. Not get me coffee, or where’s my clothes. It had been a while.

  “Good morning to you.”

  “Coffee?” He offered.

  “No, I need orange juice. I never really liked coffee. I was just always so tired all the time. And now I feel like all I do is sleep.”

  “Well, today I thought we’d just veg out. I’m still exhausted after sleeping until noon. But if you want to do something else, don’t let me keep you.”

  Hanging out with Cal all day sounded like the opposite of punishment.