Yet, there was this stranger, this strange, beautiful, green-eyed boy who uttered three words and all my walls came tumbling down. All I did was shake my head, and that was the most honest thing I'd done in a long time.
I remained in silence for a while, unsure of what to say. He was just standing there, staring at me, but it was in the least threatening way. I should have been uncomfortable, should have been uneasy, but on the contrary, I felt strangely serene.
"Who are you?" I asked.
He dropped his hands, standing up and extending them to me.
"Let's get you out of the rain before you get pneumonia," he said.
Reluctantly, I took it, and allowed him to help me up. I stumbled, a pain throbbing through my foot as I did so. Fuck. What happened?
I wondered where he'd come from. Had he followed me? Had he been swimming too? Who was he in the first place?
"You cut your foot," he said. "It's not too deep, so I'll wrap it for you inside."
I cocked my head at him as he wrapped an arm freely around my waist. I supported myself on my right foot, as my left was the one that was cut. I leaned against him, and started to hobble along with him.
"Inside?" I asked.
He nodded.
"I live in the house on the other side of the lake," he said.
"I saw you jump. I came out immediately, but I just assumed that maybe you wanted a night swim. When you didn't come up after a while," he gestured to his clothes, "I jumped in after you."
I winced. Who was this guy? Superman or something?
"I'm not some damsel in distress," I said bitterly. "I could have gotten myself out eventually."
He chuckled as we approached his house.
"If that's your way of saying 'thank you', you're welcome," he said.
I closed my eyes, ashamed. I wasn't normally rude or stand-offish, but something about the fact that he'd saved me made me uncomfortable--just a little bit. I prided myself in being self-sufficient, in not needing a guy to define me or rescue me.
"Thank you," I said.
He opened the front door to his house, and I stared at him.
"Aren't you coming in?" he asked.
I shook my head.
"I don't even know you," I told him.
He walked inside, grabbing something off the counter.
"My name is Colin Westwick," he said. "I'm new here, and I'm a junior at Valley PHASS. My parents' names are Kirstin and Holden Westwick; I have a sister named Susanna who's asleep upstairs."
I nodded, still skeptical.
I was thankful that he'd saved me, because I was sure that I would have died if he hadn't, but I still didn't know if I wanted to go inside his house. I shivered violently, and he wrapped an arm around my shoulder.
"Listen," he said. "You need to get out of those wet clothes." He paused, grinning as he realized the implications of what he'd just said. "You can shower while I wash and dry your clothes, and I can get you a t-shirt to put on."
I nodded, stepping over the threshold.
His arm tightened around my waist as he helped me limp toward the stairs. He set me down gently and smiled at me.
"I'm gonna go get you some towels, clothes, and toiletries from upstairs," Colin said. "You can use the guest bathroom downstairs so you're not overexerting yourself."
I nodded again, not wanting to say too much.
I didn't know this boy, but I knew that if I let myself, I would have a breakdown--which wasn't so unusual these days--and that wasn't what I wanted. I needed to keep my guard up more than ever. Letting my guard down had proved to be the worst mistake of my life, and I would be damned if I made the same mistake again.
He watched me closely, his head cocking to the side as he took in my appearance. I was sizing him up as well.
I met his green eyes, feeling as though they were seeing straight through to my soul, and it gave me an uneasy feeling. I found his lips, plump, and still slightly blue from the cold. My eyes roamed over his skin, a smooth, pale ivory, glistening under the beads of water that covered him. I examined his clothes as they clung to his body, and I could tell that he was probably dying to get out of them.
Finally, I broke out of the trance I'd been in since I met him, watching as he trotted upstairs.
I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to keep myself warm.
I couldn't believe that I had been so careless. How had I let myself get in a predicament where there was someone who felt compelled to help me--and compelled to damn near catch pneumonia in the process? I meant what I said to Colin. I wasn't a damsel in distress. I hadn't fallen into the lake. I wanted to be there, and I wasn't sure if I had actually wanted to be pulled out. I wasn't sure I wanted to be saved. I wasn't sure...I wasn't sure if I wanted to be alive.
As scary as it was to admit, I was too far gone to think rationally. I had hoped that a near-death experience would help me to see everything clearer, but I hadn't thought much beyond that. I hadn't thought about what would happen if I stayed under too long, if I didn't tell anyone where I was, if I died down there and it took weeks for people to find me. I hadn't cared enough to even consider any of those possibilities.
But Colin...there was something about Colin that rocked me to my core, knocked the wind out of me. What kind of person was he that he would risk his life to save me, a stranger--a stupid stranger, at that? He was sweet without trying. Even though I'd grown accustomed to thinking the opposite about people, I could tell that he didn't want anything more than to help me.
"Here you go," he said, handing me a stack of towels, a t-shirt, some socks, a washcloth, and a pair of slippers. "The bathroom is just around the corner here. D'you need my help, or do you think you're okay to walk on that foot?"
I gaped at him for a moment, unsure of how to respond to someone being nice to me without asking for anything in return.
"Uh, I think I can walk fine," I said. "I think now it's mostly numb more than anything." I started toward the bathroom, and then turned to face him. "Hey, Colin?" I waited to see him round the corner. He stared at me, a small smile on his face. "Thanks. For everything."
"Any time," he replied.
Twenty minutes later, when I emerged from the shower, I walked over to the living room, where Colin sat, waiting for me. He was in dry clothes, and his wet hair stuck to his forehead. His eyes fixed on nothing in particular, and I had to clear my throat for him to notice that I had re-entered the room.
He stood up, handing me a plush blanket. I wrapped it around myself, sitting on my heels as I joined him on the sofa. I shivered violently, still a bit shaken up from almost drowning.
I sat in silence for a while, staring out into space.
I would have to go home eventually, but I wasn't quite ready. I looked over at Colin, surprised to find that he had been watching me.
There was something about him and his demeanor that was comfortable--safe. He seemed warm somehow, and I had this urge to be near him, to feel even the tiniest bit of warmth that emanated from his soul. Cautiously, I leaned toward him. I rested my head--which was still throbbing--on his shoulder. He stared at me curiously, but he didn't pull away; instead, he wrapped an arm around me, cradling me close to his body.
I felt the tears sting my eyes, and I tried to blink them away. It was near impossible. What was it about this guy? I had only just met him, and he'd already saved me, taken care of me, and something about him made me tear down my walls and want to cry in front of him.
I looked up at him, and he reached up, wiping a rogue tear from my cheek with his thumb. I smiled bashfully, and instead of making fun of me with playful banter like most people did, he inhaled deeply, releasing the air slowly. He did it again, and I copied him.
He grinned at me with relief, then removed his arm from around me.
"Are you hungry?" he asked.
I was hesitant to answer honestly, but my stomach growled in response, so I just nodded.
He stood up and I followed him to the kitchen.
/>
"We have pastrami for sandwiches, leftover spaghetti, and," he paused, pulling out a small crock pot that looked vaguely familiar, "we have this stuff called pozole?"
I giggled.
"Colin, I really mean this in the least offensive way possible," I said carefully, measuring each word "but who do you know that knows how to make pozole?"
He eyed me, as though he actually was offended. After a few moments of silence, he burst into an outrageous fit of laughter.
"That's a fair question," he said. "My mom said someone brought it over." He paused. "Someone named Alicia Quinn?"
I sat down, winded, as I recognized the name. I'd almost forgotten about her, and knew that she must have been worried sick about me, especially considering the argument we'd had before I barged out into the storm.
"What's wrong?" Colin asked, sitting across from me.
He placed his hand over mine, squeezing it lightly. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my breathing. I was just all over the place, and it was harder than I thought to keep my emotions under control.
"Alicia Quinn," I said.
"That's my mom.” I sighed, smiling halfheartedly. "She does make the best pozole ever. You might as well warm that up."
He grabbed a stainless steel pot from the hanging rack above our heads, and poured some of the pozole in. He placed it on the stove, turning it on so that the soup would warm up.
He sat down across from me, and I got teary-eyed looking at him.
"We had a fight," I said, "before I came here. She begged me not to go out in the storm. I hate making her worry."
Without another word, he stood up. He walked to the living room, leaving me confused and flustered in his wake. He strolled back into the kitchen casually, and apparently he'd taken his home phone off the charger. He sat down, smiling as he handed it to me.
I turned it over repeatedly in my hands. I debated silently about whether or not I wanted to call my mom. On the one hand, I didn't want to make her worry--she'd had enough worry and pain for a lifetime when my brother Nikkolas got his girlfriend pregnant and went to live with her for a few months. On the other hand, I wasn't ready to face her or anything she had to say, not when I'd been so short and ugly with her the last time we spoke. I knew without a doubt that I was in the wrong, and that I was the one who had made everything worse in the argument we had, but something in me didn't want to call her. I didn't want her to ask questions, to make more insane accusations.
Even so, I really didn't want her to worry.
After hesitating long enough, I dialed my mom's cell phone number, knowing that she would answer in the hopes that it would be me calling.
I put the phone to my ear, waiting for her voice to come on the line.
"Hello?" she answered.
Relief washed over me.
"Mommy," I said, “it’s Nic."
I heard her sigh, and I knew that she was feeling the same relief that I was.
"Ay Dios mio," she said. "I'm so glad to know you're okay, sweetie. Where are you?"
I looked up at Colin, who was watching as I talked to my mom.
"I'm at the Westwick house," I said.
My mom was silent for a while, and I could tell that she was confused. As far as she knew, we didn't know any Westwick family, so I'd have to explain to her.
"You know," I said slowly, "the woman you gave the pozole to the other day?" I paused. "Well, her son is new at Valley-PHASS, and I ran into him when I stopped for food. When the storm picked up, he trailed me back to his house since it was closer than ours. So I've been here for a couple hours now."
My eyes flickered to him, and confusion warped his features. I would explain later.
"Well that's good, Kales," my mom said. "Stay put. Naomi is here with me, Daddy's at the office, and Nikky is over at Kayla's. I told everyone to stay put; I'd rather us be apart and safe than have us all together." She paused. "Just stay the night there. If the storm calms before dawn then I'll call you and give you the okay to come home."
"Okay," I said. "Well, we're about to have dinner, so I'll let you go." I waited for her response, and then closed my eyes. "Mommy?"
"Yes, mija?" she replied.
"I love you," I said.
"I love you too."
I hung up the phone and handed it to Colin.
He smiled as he took it from me, and an awkward silence ensued. I stared at him, waiting for the questions to start. Instead, he gazed into my eyes, and although it made me slightly uncomfortable, I couldn't bring myself to look away from him.
"I bet you're wondering why I lied to my mom," I said, my voice shaking from the extent of my nerves.
He shook his head, his eyebrow raising.
"Not really," he said. "I figure if you want to tell me, you will."
I nodded slowly, and then sat forward. I couldn't possibly have heard him right. "You're not wondering why I jumped? Or even why I was out driving in a storm in the first place?"
"Not in the slightest."
I grew more and more frustrated as each second went by. Was I misreading his character? Was he just being a Good Samaritan? It seemed for a few instances that he did care about me, even a little bit, considering that I was a stranger and he didn't even know my name. His nonchalance was severely pissing me off.
"What is your deal?" I asked.
He smirked. Oh, he was really getting under my skin.
"I'm not that kind of guy," he said. "You know the kind of guy who pesters a girl to open up to him. It's rude, inconsiderate, and just insensitive if you ask me. Digging into someone's soul for their innermost secrets--especially if they're not ready to divulge them--is an insane invasion of privacy. I don't like it being done to me, so I don't do it to others. So, if we become friends after tonight, and you choose to tell me why you lied to your mom, or why you jumped into a freezing cold lake, or why you were driving out in a storm in the first place, I will gladly listen." He paused, eyeing my expression. "But I'm not going to ask."
I was dumbstruck. I couldn't quite find words to respond to what he'd just said, mostly because I wasn't used to meeting nice people, let alone nice guys. I'd had my guard up for the last six months, not letting anyone into the dark fortress that was my heart. Yet, here this guy was, all green eyes and a killer smile, chiseling away at all the walls I'd built and tearing them down, brick by brick.
"Seriously?" I asked, flabbergasted. "What planet are you from?"
He smirked again--this time, I had to admit that it was actually kind of cute.
"I'm from Earth, I assure you," he said.
I rolled my eyes.
I didn't believe that for a second.
We sat in silence for a few moments, and I just stared at the table. I was on my guard the entire night, but it was completely pointless to be. He had already entered a place that was forbidden to anyone since Kyle, and I got the feeling that Colin Westwick was going to prove to be the center of my world very, very soon.
I thought about that for a moment, and what exactly it meant. Would I date him? Would I fall in love with him? Just how important was he going to be? I didn't know, but I was more than eager to find out.
Our silence was broken by the sound of the soup boiling in the pot. Colin stood up to turn it off, and then served us.
"I've never had pozole before," he said. "What exactly is it?"
I grinned, happy that the subject changed, even if only for a moment.
"It's pork meat," I said, "with hominy in a chili sauce--it's kind of hard to explain. You're typically supposed to eat it with lemon or lime, and shredded cabbage over the top."
He smiled, gesturing for me to get up.
"Well, since you're clearly the expert, why don't you hook me up?" he asked.
"Excuse me?" I asked, playfully shoving him. "I am supposed to be the guest here."
I stood up, though, watching as he took the cabbage and the lemons out of his refrigerator. He chopped the lemons into four pieces, and sliced the cabbage
as thin as possible. I grabbed a handful of cabbage and tossed it into his bowl, doing the same thing with mine. Then, I squeezed two lemon slices into each bowl. I looked up at him.
"Do you have cilantro?" I asked.
"Nope," he replied. "My mom used to buy it, but we never used it, so my dad told her not to buy anymore."
Shrugging, I carried both bowls over to the table. Colin grabbed a couple of spoons and two bottles of Snapple from the fridge.
"Kiwi Strawberry or Peach?" he asked.
"Peach," I said, without hesitation.
We sat down and ate in silence, and when I looked up at him mid-bite, he had been watching me. His eyes roamed over my face casually, and rather than look away bashfully, I began to do the same to him. I memorized every perfect, chiseled feature until I thought I had it etched in my memory.
"Why do you keep doing that?" I asked. "Every time I think things can't get any more awkward, I look up and you're watching me."
He flashed a hundred-watt smile, and my heart melted. What was happening to me? I was putty in his hands, feeling more out of control than ever.
I wasn't that girl. I wasn't the girl who fell head over heels for a guy she'd just met, and yet, I felt like without even trying to, by simply being himself, Colin held my heart in his hands.
"I'm just trying to read you," he said, shyly, a crooked smile finding its way to his features. "Tell me about yourself. You've been here for an hour and a half now, and I don't even know your name."
I sighed. I wasn't sure what it was, but I wanted to tell him everything. There was something in me that felt a pull towards Colin Westwick, and I never wanted to pull away. I wanted him to know everything--in time, of course--and I wanted him to know the real me. After everything he had done to help me tonight, he deserved that and so much more.
"My name is Nickayla Quinn," I said. "I'm mixed with White, Black, and Mexican. My mother is Black and Mexican, and my dad is White. I have two brothers and a sister: Nathan, Nikkolas, and Naomi. I go to Valley-PHASS and I'm a junior. I'd love to be a psychologist in the future." I paused. "Something happened to me last year and I--I'm not quite ready to talk about it. Since it happened, I've lost myself a little bit. I feel like I'm wandering down this path with no direction and I'm losing me. I need to find my way back to who I used to be."
Losing Me Page 2