It feels good when Ellie touches me. No one else.
Only Ellie.
“Leonard helped plan the trip. I didn’t have any trouble driving here,” I tell her. I want her to be proud of me like I’m proud of her.
“That’s great, Flynn.” She looks up at me and I stare at her. She’s so pretty. The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.
And she’s my girlfriend. She loves me. She tells me all the time.
I smile because I’m happy.
“You’ll come back to Wellston one day,” I tell her because I hope she will. I want her to come home. I want her to live with me and be with me there with Murphy.
Her face looks strange and she’s not smiling anymore.
“Why can’t you come live with me somewhere? We could go anywhere. New York City. Chicago. We could find some small little town in Florida where it’s warm all the time and never snows,” she said, her words running together as she talks so fast it’s hard for me to keep up.
“But I live in Wellston. It’s where I work. I have a house there,” I tell her, not understanding why she hates it there so much.
It’s just a town.
That stuff doesn’t matter.
It has nothing to do with me. Or her.
Ellie doesn’t say anything else. But then she’s kissing me. And I like that.
I think only about Ellie and how much I like touching her.
I think she might be happy.
Chapter Sixteen
-Ellie-
I haven’t talked to Flynn in days.
He tried to speak to me during English class, but I ignored him. I’m being mean to him, and I don’t really know why. I hated being mean to him. I saw how upset he got when I wouldn’t turn around when he said my name.
I don’t know what’s changed for me, but I just know that I can’t be his friend anymore. It hurts too much to know I’ve done nothing to deserve his loyalty. His friendship. I allow my friends to tease him. To mock and ridicule him.
And I’m a coward.
I won’t stand up for him the way I should.
I tried to once.
Stu had stolen Flynn’s lunch, and had dumped the contents on the ground, picking through it.
“He eats the same shit every single day! Doesn’t he understand the importance of variety?” Stu complained, picking up the chicken salad sandwich.
I snatched it out of his hands and shoved it back in the brown paper bag. “Don’t eat that! It’s not yours!” I said, trying to look intimidating. But it was impossible to intimidate Stu Wooten. He didn’t care if you were a guy or a girl; if you pissed him off, he went for you. Guns blazing.
He was a scary guy.
And it was a certain suicide to go against anything he did. Dania knew that which is why she tried to intervene.
“Ells is just goofing around,” Dania laughed, though it sounded forced.
“Very funny, Ellie, now give me back my lunch,” Stu had said, reaching for the bag. I had backed up and held it out of reach.
“It’s not yours. It belongs to Flynn. I’m going to give it back.” I tried to walk away, but Stu grabbed a hold of my arm and pulled me back.
“Give me my fucking lunch, Ellie before I make you,” he growled an inch from my face. I could smell the cigarette he had just smoked on his breath, and his cold eyes gave me chills.
Backing down, I shoved the paper bag into his chest and left, feeling sick inside for not holding my ground.
“Ellie,” Flynn said, not too quietly.
I ignored him. I didn’t want to talk to him.
I really wanted to talk to him.
He poked me in the back, and still I wouldn’t turn around. I felt something wet in my eyes. It burned. It couldn’t be tears. I didn’t cry. Ever.
“Ellie! Why won’t you talk to me? You’re my friend!” he yelled, pushing his books on the floor.
“Control yourself, Mr. Hendrick,” Mr. Goodwin said, looking mockingly stern. As if anyone took him seriously.
Flynn poked me again, more insistent this time. “Ellie! Look at me!”
I whipped around in my seat and trained my eyes on the wall behind him so I didn’t have to look at his face. If I did I’d feel even worse.
I didn’t want to feel anything. I hated it.
Flynn made me feel too much.
It was time for that to stop.
“Look, Flynn, I am not your fucking friend. Leave me alone!” I hissed before turning back around in my seat.
“You’re a liar. You are my friend!” he yelled, and he stood up and pushed his desk over.
“Mr. Hendrick, you need to leave. You’re disrupting the class,” Mr. Goodwin said.
Flynn left and I should have felt better because he was gone.
But I didn’t.
I felt worse.
If that was possible.
**
I spent the rest of the morning with Dania and Lyla, building blocks and watching the toddler knock them over. There was no more talk of our discussion the night before but the discomfort between us had lessened considerably.
There was still a weight of issues that would most likely always be there, but I didn’t want to run the other way just because we were in the same room.
Once the snowplows had been down the roads a few times, I figured it was time for me to head back home. I knew Flynn would be waiting for me as classes had been cancelled at the community college for the day.
“Thanks for letting me crash on the couch. It was a hell of a lot better than the storeroom,” I said to Dania, as I was getting ready to leave.
“No problem, Ellie. I’m glad you came over,” she said, holding the door open for me. Lyla held her chubby arms out, and I gave her a hug.
“She’s pretty awesome, D,” I said, ruffling the little girl’s dark curls.
“I think so, though I am biased,” Dania said, giving Lyla a gooey, maternal smile.
“Well, I guess I’ll see ya around,” I said. Even though Dania and I had really talked the night before I knew that our days of being in each other’s back pocket were over. I didn’t think we’d ever be able to go back to being the kind of friends that called each other every day and texted randomly. Too much had happened.
And even if we were trying to put the past behind us, the dynamics of our relationship had altered completely.
“You know where I live and I know where you work. It might be a little hard to let another three years go by without talking,” Dania said, following me out into the hallway, Lyla squirming on her hip, wanting to get down.
“I guess so,” I agreed, waving as I hurried down the stairs.
Once I got in the car and started back toward Flynn’s house I knew there was no chance I’d make it up his driveway. Wellston had gotten easily eight inches of snow in total and the plows were obviously only focusing on the main streets. The back road towards Flynn’s was icy and downright treacherous. I ended up parking my car off the road and in a ditch. I grabbed my purse and pulled my coat tightly around me.
I was only wearing sneakers, not the best for walking through almost a foot of snow. I could see that someone had been out and plowed Flynn’s driveway, though obviously they hadn’t done the best job.
My feet were soaked by the time I got to the house. I stomped my feet on the porch and I could hear Murphy’s frantic barking inside. Before I could open the door, Flynn was there.
“Good morning,” I said, trying to get my shoes off.
Flynn surprised me by reaching out and pulling on my arms until I was pressed against his chest. He hugged me tightly, not letting go.
I brought my arms up and around him, hugging him in return, not understanding what had prompted this.
“Hey, you okay?” I asked, pulling back.
“I didn’t like you not being here last night. It sucked,” Flynn said, and I cupped is cheek with my hand.
“Aww. That’s sweet,” I teased.
“Your hands are freezing,”
Flynn said, jerking away from my touch.
“Yeah, well I had to park at the bottom of your driveway. There was no way I could get my car up here.”
Flynn frowned. “Dexter Mullins is supposed to plow the driveway. He lives down the road and I pay him. Did he not do it?”
“Oh it was plowed, but my car still wouldn’t have made it. So I walked,” I said, closing the front door and finally starting to melt in the warmth.
“You’re all wet. You should change before you get sick,” Flynn announced, pointing at my dripping socks.
“Good idea. I’ll be right back,” I said, all but running to the bedroom to find some dry clothes.
A few minutes later I came out to find that Flynn had made me some coffee. He had obviously been working on his sculptures. There were several new ones lined up along the table.
“It looks like you’ve been busy,” I said, indicating the new sculptures.
Flynn shrugged. “I had to keep my mind busy. I didn’t like you being at Dania’s. So I worked on these. It helped,” he said, shrugging.
“I’m sorry that you didn’t like me being there,” I told him, carefully running my hands through his hair in the way I knew he liked.
He leaned into my hand and closed his eyes for a minute. He seemed relaxed now that I was home. He seemed content. It made my heart swell to know that I put that look on his face.
I sat down beside him at the table and sipped on my coffee while he continued to work on his sculptures. We were quiet, the only sound coming from the television.
I thought about Dania saying that I didn’t seem to be happy. If she could see me right now, she would never have questioned my feelings.
Watching Flynn work reminded me of how we used to be when we were young. I had always loved this side of him. When he worked on his art he was confident and sure. There was no hesitation or resistance. He immersed himself totally.
And I once more became that girl who was most at ease in his company.
“What do you think about taking a trip?” I asked suddenly. I hadn’t planned to make the suggestion. But it popped out of my mouth, without forethought.
“A trip,” Flynn stated expressionlessly.
I picked up the tiny sand castle Flynn had made for me over three years ago in commemoration of our first trip together. We had gone to a beach in Virginia and for the short time we had been there, things had been perfect.
“I was thinking about our trip to Sandbridge Beach the other day and how much I enjoyed it,” I said, tracing a finger along the curves of the tiny sculpture.
“We didn’t stay long. You came back when Dania had her baby that she gave away. You didn’t talk to me for weeks,” he said matter of factly, and I flushed with years old shame.
“I know. That part wasn’t great, but everything leading up to it was. Walking on the beach, having dinner. Just being somewhere away from here,” I mused.
“You want to go somewhere that isn’t here,” he said slowly, still molding the clay in front of him.
“I want to go somewhere with you. I think it would be good for both of us, don’t you think?”
Flynn didn’t say anything for a while. I put the sculpture back in its spot by the window. “You want to go to the beach again? It’ll be too cold to get into the water,” he said and I grinned. He was agreeing to go.
“No, I wasn’t thinking the beach. Do you remember Nadine?” I asked him.
“The girl with one eye that’s bigger than the other?”
I choked on a laugh. “Uh, yeah, her.”
Flynn finally looked up, his face bland. “Are you okay? You sound like you’re choking. Point to your throat if you are.”
“I’m fine, Flynn.”
He returned to his sculpting. “Well, you wouldn’t be able to talk if you were choking. So I guess you’re okay.”
“Well anyway, Nadine lives in New York City and she’s invited us to come for a visit. Isn’t that awesome?”
Flynn was quiet, his hands deftly moving the clay until it formed a building with thin columns.
“Flynn. What do you think?” I asked impatiently, finding his silence frustrating.
“I don’t like cities,” he remarked.
I tried not to get annoyed. I tried not to blow up at him when once again he shot down my suggestions. I hated that for a brief second I wished that he could be, just for once, someone who wasn’t terrified to leave the town he lived in.
Then I despised myself for it.
“I know cities are loud and busy but it could be fun,” I hedged, trying to convince him. “Hey! Didn’t you sell a bunch of your pieces to a shop in Manhattan? We could go to see them!” I suggested, trying to be enthusiastic. But Flynn’s negative attitude was pretty deflating.
“They were for Christmas. It’s not Christmas anymore,” he stated with a bit of an edge to his voice.
“Okay, well we could go see a play. Or go to the zoo. Maybe we could go out and see the Statue of Liberty!” I sounded frantic. I felt my anger start to simmer and all I could think about were Dania’s words last night: I know what you look like when you’re happy and this isn’t it.
I had thought being with Flynn was all that I needed to be content. What if I was wrong?
I had hinged my entire future on the man sitting in front of me, refusing to meet my eyes.
He had changed me. He had made me a better person. I was the woman I had become because of him. Without him, I would have never left Wellston. I would never have forced myself to reach for something else. Something better.
But as I was transforming into this new improved Ellie McCallum, Flynn was digging his heels into the ground, rooting himself firmly, unwilling to move.
It terrified me.
We were a story of contradictions. I wanted something more and Flynn wanted exactly what he had.
I had thought obsessively about what my life would be like when the day came and I returned to Flynn. And while I had never been particularly thrilled with the idea, I hadn’t thought that it would be this confining.
This restrictive.
I wanted to be with Flynn more than anything. But I was beginning to worry that by holding onto the thing my heart wanted, I’d lose myself.
I didn’t like the self-doubt and feelings of complacency that ate away at my insides the longer I stayed in this town.
“You want to go to New York City,” Flynn stated rather than asked. He knew the answer.
“Yes, I’d like to go. But I want you to come with me,” I said, trying to calm down. Flynn needed my understanding not my anger. It wasn’t fair to him that I wasn’t happy with my situation. He had done everything he could to make this a home for me, knowing I had never had one before.
My future was with Flynn.
It had to be. I couldn’t contemplate a world without him in it.
Why did it feel as though I was trying to convince myself?
“I don’t like travelling, Ellie,” he said, his voice tight.
I sighed. “I know. I’m sorry, I’m being selfish,” I said wearily, conceding once again that what I wanted would be too much for the man I loved.
“But you want to go,” Flynn added, finally looking up at me, his hands still in the clay.
“Not if you’re going to be miserable,” I countered, knowing it was true. No matter how much I wanted to go somewhere like New York with him, I’d never be able to enjoy myself if he had a meltdown.
“I need to meet with Leonard. He can help me plan it. I just have to know what to expect. I’m not like you. I can’t just go,” he said, sounding sad for the first time.
“I know that, Flynn,” I murmured, feeling guilty for pushing the idea on him.
“I get anxious when I go somewhere new. I’ve never been to New York. I’ve never liked cities. But if you want to go, I should go.”
I took in a deep breath, overwhelmed by his selflessness.
But I worried that Wellston was suffocating me.
�
�We can plan the trip together, Flynn,” I promised.
Flynn nodded, looking younger than his years with his hair in his eyes. “I want to go if you want to.”
I should have been excited that I was getting what I wanted. I should have been thrilled that he was agreeing to do something I wanted to do.
So why did I feel so guilty?
Chapter Seventeen
-Ellie-
“Look it’s tard boy!” Dania yelled, elbowing me in the side.
I was tired this morning. I hadn’t been able to go to sleep after Mr. Beretti had left my room. I had been sick in the bathroom most of the night.
Dania had come into my room first thing this morning and crawled into bed beside me. She had wrapped her arm around me. “I’m sorry I didn’t stop him,” she had whispered.
I didn’t say anything. My stomach was clenched in an ugly knot. I was dirty. I was disgusting.
But I deserved it.
I wasn’t worth anything.
“I would have stopped him if I had known,” Dania had whispered, holding onto me tightly.
I pulled away from her, not wanting her to touch me. “We need to get ready for school,” I had said, not wanting to talk about it ever again.
Sometimes it was hard to reconcile the Dania I knew at home, the girl who tried to protect me at the expense of herself, with the girl who ridiculed and abused Flynn.
But right now, with my emotions shut off and my head pounding from being sick and used, I didn’t care.
I was feeling mean and unfeeling.
“Hey tard boy!” I hollered, throwing a balled up piece of paper at Flynn as he walked up the steps. People were looking at us but no one intervened. They knew better. We weren’t a group others wanted to mess with.
Flynn’s shoulders came up and he tucked his chin into his chest, holding his bagged lunch in his clenched fist.
Dania and Stu howled with laughter when I threw a pencil and it bounced off his back.
Then he looked up at me and the ice around my heart melted in an instant.
He was hurting.
Because of me.
Why would I do that to him?
Chasing the Tide Page 17