Chasing the Tide

by A. Meredith Walters

  Flynn had drawn me.

  I was smiling, my eyes twinkling. I knew it was an expression that I didn’t wear very often. This was an Ellie that only ever showed herself to a certain boy who had drawn her.

  There was a soft tapping on my door and I hastily put the drawing away.

  Dania slowly pushed open the door and padded softly across the room.

  “Hey,” I said, noticing the tear stains on Dania’s cheeks. Her lips were red and swollen, as though she had bitten down on flesh…hard.

  Dania wouldn’t look at me, her shoulders were slumped and she looked as broken as I had ever seen her.

  Then I knew.

  Mr. Beretti’s and Dania’s voices outside my door

  Then the silence.

  I patted the spot beside me on the bed. I didn’t say anything as Dania crawled under the covers and lay on her side, her body shuddering every now and then.

  I didn’t touch her, knowing that right now, she wouldn’t be able to bear it. So I let her fall to sleep tucked into my bed, knowing that at least for tonight, with me beside her, she was safe.

  My eyes fell to the folded paper once more, and I felt a momentary guilt that I had someone that cared about me. That I had someplace to go that made me feel safe and secure.

  Dania didn’t have that.

  I was all she had.

  **

  By the time I arrived at Black River Community College I had calmed down. I grabbed the bags of groceries and headed towards the building where Flynn taught his art classes.

  I berated myself for letting a prick like Mr. Beretti get to me. I wasn’t a pathetic fourteen-year-old girl anymore. He was nothing to me.

  Less than nothing.

  It didn’t matter what he or his horrible wife thought of me.

  So why was there a lump of lead inside that felt a lot like shame?

  I had been forced to endure random run-ins with my shitty foster parents over the years. Sometimes they ignored me. Sometimes they attempted to engage in awkward, one-sided conversation.

  And sometimes they looked at me with judgment and condescension, as Mable Beretti had just done.

  I had been able to shake it off, usually by going out and losing my mind in a haze of drugs, alcohol, and no strings attached sex.

  But I didn’t cope like that anymore.

  I had grown up. I had matured.

  Though I didn’t understand why seeing the Berettis now, after all this time, had made me feel like I was still that useless little girl with no prospects and no future. Even after I had proven to myself that I wasn’t. That I could do something with my life.

  I clutched the plastic bags in my hands and hurried across the campus, not seeing anything. My eyes a blur of unshed tears that I refused to let fall.

  I approached Flynn’s office and stopped before going through the door. He was at his desk, bent over a pile of papers, dark hair falling into his face. He was frowning and chewing on his lip as his pen moved in agitated lines.

  I stared at him long and hard. My heart that thudded steadily and painfully in my chest reacted instantly to his proximity. The lingering self-hatred, the enduring resentment and bitterness bled out onto the floor. It had no place here. Not with him.

  And then I was smiling.

  I softly knocked on his open door, indicating my presence. Flynn looked up, a strand of hair falling in his eyes and he absently pushed it back.

  “You’re on time,” Flynn said, glancing at the clock on his wall.

  “You sound surprised,” I teased, stepping into the office and closing the door behind me.

  “I am surprised. You’re late a lot,” Flynn said, never, ever pulling any punches. I chuckled and set the grocery bags down on the chair beside me.

  “How’s your day going?” I asked, finding that the last of my jangled nerves began to fade. I was able to get air into my lungs.

  Life was tangled and twisted. It was vicious and violent. It could crush you in its merciless grip before you ever had a chance to live.

  And he was my safety in the nightmare.

  “Good. I was able to finish the clay pot I had been working on. My sculpting foundations class liked it and they didn’t ask too many questions. That was nice,” Flynn answered, putting his pen down and turning on the lamp beside his desk.

  “Aren’t students supposed to ask questions? Isn’t that the point of teaching them?” I asked, opening up the first bag and pulled out the items purchased in the throes of my Beretti induced panic.

  I laid out cold pasta with pesto and tomato, a few bags of potato chips, a bar of chocolate and a container of sushi. Looking at the food I knew there was very little, aside from the chips and chocolate, that Flynn would eat. Major girlfriend fail.

  “I don’t like questions. They’re usually ridiculous and if people took the time to actually listen, they’d know the answers already,” Flynn responded and I couldn’t fault his logic.

  He looked down at the food on his desk and frowned. “This is what you brought for us to eat?” he asked, picking up the container of sushi and making a face.

  I opened up the second grocery bag and was relieved that I had had the sense to pick up a ham and cheese sandwich. Nice to see I had done something right.

  “Here. You’ll eat this right?” I asked, handing him the sandwich. Flynn opened it up and peeled back the bread.

  “Yes. I’ll eat this. Though I don’t know why I couldn’t have just brought a chicken salad sandwich. We could have eaten those instead of this stuff,” Flynn said, throwing the plastic wrap in the trash.

  “But then you wouldn’t have all of this,” I pointed out.

  Flynn grunted and took a bite of the sandwich. “This is good. I like it,” he said and I felt a silly bit of pride at being able to pick out something that he liked.

  I started eating the sushi, which was borderline disgusting. But I ate it anyway.

  We sat together in companionable silence, neither requiring conversation the way some people do. We weren’t the sort of people to fill silence with meaningless chitchat. Our quiet said more than any words ever could.

  “I decided to pick up a few shifts at JAC’s to make some money until something else comes along,” I told Flynn, cringing slightly.

  “Why did you make that face?” Flynn asked before taking another bite of his sandwich.

  “Did I make a face?” I asked lightly, sometimes hating how observant he was, even if he didn’t always understand exactly what he saw.

  “Yes, you made a face when you said you were going to work at JACs. Are you not happy about it?” he asked, reading me like a book.

  I sighed and put the empty sushi container back in the grocery bag. “I just feel like I’m moving backwards instead of forwards.”

  “How is that possible? I don’t understand what you’re saying,” Flynn said, looking confused.

  “I just mean that’s where I was working when I lived here before. I had hoped that I’d be doing something else by now.”

  “And it’s bad to work there again,” Flynn surmised.

  “It’s not bad. Just not what I want,” I admitted, feeling like Flynn was pulling truth out of me with pliers.

  “Then don’t work there. Wait until you get a better job,” he said, as though it were the easiest thing in the world.

  I laughed without humor. “I need money, Flynn. I can’t live off rainbows and fairy dust,” I stated sarcastically, knowing he wouldn’t catch it.

  “Fairy dust doesn’t exist. That’s a dumb thing to say, Ellie,” Flynn responded, looking irritated with my efforts at joking.

  “I just mean I’m almost out of money and I need to be working. I can’t sit around your house all day.”

  Flynn opened up a bag of chips and put a handful in his mouth. “Why not?” he asked around a mouthful of food.

  “Because that’s not what I do, Flynn. That’s not who I am,” I argued, feeling irrationally annoyed that he didn’t get what I was trying to t
ell him. I knew this only demonstrated our communication barrier. I knew that I had to be patient and try to explain what I was thinking. What I was feeling.

  But I wasn’t in a very patient mood.

  “You’re getting angry,” Flynn said, still chewing his food.

  “You should wait to speak until after you’ve swallowed,” I pointed out with more than a little anger.

  “I don’t understand why you’re so upset. If you don’t want to work at JACs then don’t work there.” He saw things in black and white. He didn’t see things in the varying shades of grey that lay between those two extremes.

  Not for the first time I wished it wasn’t so hard to tell him exactly how I felt. I wished he could hear what I was trying to tell him and I wished I were better at getting him to listen.

  “I need money, Flynn! I need to feel like I’m contributing! I don’t want you to take care of me financially! I want to be able to take care of myself! That’s all!” I shouted and then realized I was taking my frustrations out on him and that wasn’t fair.

  We sat silently for a while. I was embarrassed at my outburst and Flynn looked upset. I hadn’t wanted to upset him. I had come here to spend time with him. I wanted to enjoy our time together.

  What was I doing?

  I had thought when I left school and came here that this was our fresh start. That we could build on something wonderful we had created together.

  I hadn’t prepared myself for what life would really be like living with Flynn…trying to create a unified world where we co-existed harmoniously. It had been a delusional dream. Because I had my demons and Flynn had his limitations. And they were crashing into each other with the force of a wrecking ball.

  Flynn got up from his desk chair and did something that shook me to my core. He dropped to his knees in front of me, resting his hands on my knees. I sat back in shock, holding myself completely rigid.

  Flynn’s eyes were on mine. Unwavering. Steady.

  “I want you to be happy, Ellie. I want you to smile and kiss me. I want to hear you laugh. I don’t like it when you look sad. I don’t like hearing you yell. You’ve been yelling a lot lately. I feel like I’m always asking if you’re happy because you don’t look like you are. I’m tired of asking. Tell me what you want to do. I know you’re mad at me. I just don’t know why. Why are you mad at me, Ellie?”

  His simple, heartfelt question tore at my heart. I covered his hands with mine and leaned down, pressing my lips to his. His mouth was warm beneath mine and instantly opened for me.

  I pulled back, our noses touching. Flynn’s eyes closed, our breath mingling. “I’m sorry I yell at you. What I’m feeling inside has nothing to do with you. It has to do with me and my stupid insecurities.”

  “That’s dumb, Ellie,” Flynn said softly, his lips brushing against mine.

  “I didn’t say it made sense. But it’s what I feel. Here, I’m too close to being the old Ellie. The one who treated people badly and hated herself. I thought I could be someone else. I just worry that I’m becoming her again.” It hurt to admit such a horrible thing.

  Flynn kissed me. Not urgently or passionately but lovingly and gentle. “You aren’t two Ellies. You are one Ellie. And I like you just as you are,” he said simply.

  “Flynn…” I said his name on a sigh like a prayer.

  Flynn rose up on his knees and wrapped his arms around me. There was no hesitation. There was no reluctance. He pulled me into the solidity of his body and I fell against him.

  Flynn had always been my safe landing.

  With him, things were okay.

  Our kiss slowly became more passionate. I buried my hands into his thick hair and he groaned low and loud in the back of his throat. He began tugging at the hem of my shirt, pulling it out of the waist of my pants in an effort to get to my bare skin.

  “I love you, Flynn. So much,” I breathed as he started to suck on my neck. My body started to tingle in the best possible way.

  “Excuse me, Flynn,” a voice said, and I almost jumped out of my seat. I pulled back, repositioning my shirt over my exposed chest. Crap! When did that happen?

  I tried straightening my clothes but it was a lost cause. Flynn was resistant. He tried to pull me into his arms again but I pressed a hand to his chest, holding him back.

  “Flynn, someone’s here,” I whispered. His eyes were still closed and he slowly opened them, scowling.

  He looked to the doorway, obviously annoyed. “What is it, Imogen?” he asked, brash as always.

  I looked up at the woman Imogen and remembered she was one of Flynn’s co-workers. The one who had watched Murphy during my graduation weekend. He had been right, she did look like his mom.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I need your grading report. Do you have it ready? It’s due to the dean by the end of the day,” she said, giving me an apologetic smile.

  “You should have knocked instead of walking in, Imogen,” Flynn chastised, his face still flushed.

  “I did knock, Flynn. I guess you didn’t hear me,” Imogen replied, looking uncomfortable.

  That made two of us.

  Imogen held her hand out to me and I shook it reluctantly. “I’m Imogen Stafford. I’m the Dean of Art Studies here at the college,” she said and I appreciated her efforts to smooth over this awkward situation.

  “Hi, I’m Ellie McCallum, Flynn’s girlfriend,” I said.

  “I’ve heard a lot about you, Ellie. It’s nice to finally meet you,” she added. While she appeared to be a nice lady, I wish she would leave already. I was pretty certain Flynn had left a hickey on the side of my neck that needed to be covered up.

  “Here you go,” Flynn said, shoving a paper in Imogen’s hands. She took it and looked it over, nodding.

  “This looks good. Thanks, Flynn. I’ll see you this afternoon at the staff meeting,” she said.

  “Yes, I’ll see you then. You can leave now?” he said and I had to hide my grin. Imogen didn’t seem bothered by his rudeness. She was obviously used to it by now and understood how to respond without responding. She just earned some major cool points in my book.

  “Okay. Bye, Ellie. It was nice to meet you,” she said before Flynn all but pushed her out of his office.

  “I should have locked the door,” Flynn said, and I laughed.

  “It’s probably not too cool to get it on in your office at work,” I told him.

  Flynn walked back over to where I was sitting and pulled me to my feet. “I don’t want to get it on. I want to have sex with you. Right now. In my office,” Flynn corrected.

  “That’s what getting it on means, Flynn,” I said.

  “Oh. But what would we be getting on? The desk?” Flynn was frowning.

  “Never mind. But we can’t have sex. Don’t you have class in a few minutes?” I asked, pointing to the clock.

  Flynn sighed and looked very put out. “In twelve minutes. That’s not enough time is it?”

  I tried really hard not to laugh. My lips twitched uncontrollably. “I sure hope not,” I answered.

  “This sucks,” Flynn complained, and this time I did laugh.

  “Yeah it sucks. But I’ll just see you at home,” I said, kissing him again, though pulling away before he could latch on.

  “At home. I like that. I like knowing you’re there at the end of the day,” Flynn said, smiling.

  I wasn’t thinking about working at JAC’s or running into the Berettis. I wasn’t thinking about how much I hated living in Wellston and I wasn’t thinking about the thousands of memories that assaulted me every time I drove down the painfully familiar streets.

  All I was thinking about was the man in front of me and how much he had come to mean to me.

  “I love you,” I said, hoping that just this once he would say it back.

  I tried not to be too disappointed when he didn’t.

  Chapter Thirteen

  -Ellie-

  “I saw you talking to the freak this morning. What in the fuck were y
ou two talking about?” Dania asked, sitting down beside me at our usual lunch table.

  I gave her a sideways glance, my face not giving anything away. I had been very firm with Flynn, telling him to never talk to me at school unless I approached him first. I knew the shit I’d have to deal with from my friends and even though Flynn had come to mean more to me than just about anyone, I didn’t want to deal with the inevitable blowback should our friendship become common knowledge.

  Did that make me an asshole?

  Yeah, it did.

  Did that make me a total coward?

  Absolutely.

  I was so tough, so untouchable most of the time. But for some irrational reason, Dania and my so-called friends’ opinions of me mattered. I certainly didn’t want to be seen as vulnerable. I didn’t want them to think I had gone soft. I had to be tough. I had to be hard. Otherwise I feared that the persona I had built would crumble around me. And then I’d be left with nothing.

  But I hated the way Dania and Stu treated Flynn. It made me sick each time they bullied him. I even joined in though seeing his anger and despair broke a heart I didn’t know I had.

  Why couldn’t I just tell them to stop?

  Why couldn’t I stand up to them for once?

  Because Ellie McCallum was a weak fool.

  “It was nothing. Some stupid shit about English class,” I remarked dismissively, hoping Dania would drop it. But she didn’t. She had this strange obsession with Flynn Hendrick. She taunted and teased him to a level that didn’t really make sense. She had targeted him for a reason that I didn’t understand.

  “Did you see what he was fucking wearing? What’s with the khakis? And the button down shirts? It’s like eighty degrees outside! He’s such a weirdo,” Dania smirked, stuffing fries into her mouth.

  We were by ourselves for once. Stu had lunch detention. Reggie was out sick, and Shane had cut school after Algebra this morning. It was rare that we weren’t surrounded by our miscreant crew. It was nice though. I loved Dania, even if she was a total bitch. But I didn’t care for any of the others. They were part of my circle for the only reason that they were as fucked up as I was.

  “Look, there he is! I wonder what he has in his lunch today. I’ll be right back.” Dania got up and I knew she was going to go take Flynn’s lunch. It had become a sadistic ritual every single day.