****
Wren goes off in search of the hot chocolate booth while I wait for her at a picnic table across from the elephant ear stand. The smell of cinnamon and fried dough wafts toward me as I hold my head up in my hands. Despite the intoxicating scent, I can’t even think about eating. Pain ripples through me and tears at my organs. I wrap my hands around my stomach. Even though I’m a mess inside, I don’t cry. Not now. Not ever. I don’t think my tear ducts work.
The table creaks and shifts as Adam straddles the seat across from me. “You know,” he starts, “She keeps tormenting you because she knows that it gets to you.”
I stare at him with a blank expression. He’s the last person I want to talk about my feelings with. “You know, I’d really like to be left alone.” Being around Adam is like sailing down the hill on a wooden rollercoaster. Sometimes the weightless feeling bounces off the walls of your stomach, pushing forward a rush of adrenaline. The rush excites you and delights you. You want on that ride time and time again. But at the same time, the ride makes you panic. You’re nauseous, unsure of whether you should squeal or scream. He’s making me feel like that now and I don’t want to deal with it.
“So,” he says not taking my hint. “What did you mean when you said everything you thought was wrong about me was right?” There’s an intrigued look dancing around in his teal eyes.
“That you were what I expected you to be all along,” I mutter, playing with my hands.
“And what’s that?”
“A red-blooded American douche-bag.”
He laughs. “Tell me how you really feel.”
He doesn’t get it. “I just did.” I wasn’t joking.
His laughter dies down and as I lift my head a serene look crosses over his features. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.” What I want is for you to go away.
“Are you sure?” he probes me further.
“Yes. I’m positive.” For one thing, I’m not interested in drudging up all the pains of my past and explaining them to him. Two, I don’t know him well enough to trust him. “Please just go away,” I say, exhausted. I’m hoping that after getting shut down three times, something will finally click in that genius brain of his.
He rises from the table, gives me a sullen over his shoulder and disappears into the crowd. Wren comes up next to me and sets down a Styrofoam cup. “One hot chocolate for you.” She bumps me with her hip. “Scoot.” I slide over and she sits down. “Was that Adam?”
“Unfortunately,” I say glumly.
“What did he want?”
I make quote marks with my fingers. “To talk.”
Wren takes the lid off her hot chocolate and blows on the heated drink. Steam rises from the top, and vanishes into the air. “Well did you talk to him?” She takes a tiny, tester sip from her cup.
I grasp my cup. The warmth from the beverage radiates through the Styrofoam and heats up my hand. “For a minute if that.”
Wren smiles, sweetly. “I think it was sweet of him to check on you.”
“Whose side are you on?” I say accusingly.
She tsks. “You know I’m on yours. I just think you should give him a break.”
She says she’s on my side, but it sounds to me like she’s taking his. “Why? He’s the one who showed up with the ice queen.”
“I actually have to commend him.” She’s definitely taking his side. “First, you slap him after he puts himself out there, hinting that he has feelings for you. Now he shows up with Katie and you’re totally taking this the wrong way.”
I squint, confused. “Huh?”
Wren lets out a soft laugh and sighs. “Oh Ells, you mess around with all these boys and you have yet to see the big picture.”
My mouth drops open and I glare at her incredulously. “Are you insinuating that I’m a slut?”
She slaps my hand. “No!” Then she nods toward game booth. Adam stands there with Katie, but he’s staring at me intensely. “He’s doing that to make you jealous. And guess what, Ellory, it worked.”
I shake my head. “No. No way.”
Wren tilts her head to the side. “Yes way. You were totally jealous.” She sets down her cup. “Think about it. The whole time he’s been here with Katie, he’s been taunting you with it. Always touching her when you’re looking. Staring at you when he’s with her.”
He’s still staring at me. Our eyes lock and a sinful smirk creeps across his lips. “Thanks for the observation, Dr. Ruth.”
Wren’s right. Even when Adam looks away from me, he’s not even paying attention to Katie. His eyes are getting lost in the crowd. Katie spins around and tries to get his attention and I look down at my hands. Part of the reason why I couldn’t figure this out on my own is because I never let myself get farther than second base with a guy. I don’t ever open myself up. I’m perfectly content being their play thing.
We pass Adam on the way out. His perfect, proportional almond-shaped eyes follow me the whole time. I feel them on me even when I’m not looking at him. Something inside of me clicks. A feeling of attachment. A gut feeling that tells me even though I’m not speaking to him, Adam understands me.
I’ve heard there are times when a guy can spot a girl he found attractive from across the room. Their eyes meet and lock. Neither one of them needs words: their gaze tells them everything they need to know. That’s what it’s like for Adam and me. We don’t need words. One look and we know each other, inside and out. That scares me. It scares me because I know that deep down nothing else matters. Not my rebellious ways. My war with Katie. Or even my painful past. Adam is the only thing that matters.
On the outside, I may appear to be tough, but on the inside I’m vulnerable, just like a lot of people. I block out the part of me that allows me to feel. I numb myself using internal Novocain. People who feel always get hurt. I think of my Mom. She loved and gave her all to my father and what did she get? Years of uncertainty and heartache. I’d asked her once if she regretted the time she spent with Dad. I was stunned when she told me no. She’d said that even though her relationship with Dad ended badly, being in love was the greatest feeling in the world and she’d want to experience it again in a second. I vaguely remember telling myself that I’d never allow myself to be hurt like Mom. Love is the murky uncharted waters of the ocean. An unknown territory that I don’t want to tread across.
Wren’s car slings up pieces of gravel as she turns around in my driveway. I walk through the garage and into the kitchen. The house is dark, quiet, and empty. Mom has a booth selling pumpkins at Fall Fest. I know she won’t be home until after midnight.
Most of the time, I like the quiet. I like my alone time—which is why I spend a good portion of my time holed up in my room. But right now, the silence is getting to me. My thoughts plague me. And all of my thoughts revolve around Adam.
I take a scalding hot shower, trying to burn and cleanse the thoughts of Adam. I want them to disappear. I want to erase them. Even though the hot water eliminates the residue on the outside of me, there’s still a filthy longing on the inside. I’m relaxed, yet tortured at the same time. Is there nothing that will keep my mind off of him? Sadly, I know the answer is no. Adam tortures me, but what’s even more sadistic is that I want him to. I want him to keep torturing me until he drives me crazy. I never want him to stop.
Deciding to turn in early is something I haven’t done in a long time. I don’t bother flicking the light on when I walk into to my room. I navigate through the darkness and zoom in on the glowing red light from my alarm clock. It’s 9:30. As I climb into bed I try to remember the last time I went to bed this early. I’m pretty sure I was thirteen years old.
The quiet swallows me. I yawn and roll over, curling into the fetal position. I can’t sleep. I’m restless. Soft pinging cuts into the silence. I bolt upright as my eyes wander through the darkness. I hold my breath and the pinging stops. A loud gust of air leaves my lungs as I breathe and I hear the pinging again. The sound rem
inds me of a person standing on a thin sheet of ice. The weight adding pressure to the flimsy piece of frozen precipitation. Seconds away from cracking. One slight move and the person will plummet into the freezing cold water.
I stay as still as possible and suck in my breath a second time. The pinging is coming from my window. During the early stages of fall sometimes kids from down the road play flashlight tag in my back yard. Mom and I don’t mind. I used to do the same thing when I was little. “That’s enough guys!” I shout, hoping the kids would take the hint. They don’t.
Finally, I stroll over to my window, pull open the blinds, and freeze as Adam tosses a small pebble into the glass. I don’t know what to do. Or what to say. I stand there for second, just staring.
He walks closer. The moonlight beams down from the heavens and illuminates his hauntingly beautiful features. “Open the window,” he says. The sound of his voice is muffled.
I slide the window open and crouch down, resting my chin on the windowsill. “What are you doing here?”
“What are you doing?” he asks playfully. “It’s only 9:45.”
“Yeah, well, I’m tired.” My stomach is twisted into one giant knot. “What are you doing at my window?”
He looks up into the star-filled sky. “It’s a beautiful night. I thought we could go for a moonlight stroll.”
A moonlight stroll. He wants me to go on a moonlight stroll with him. Who is this guy? “I don’t think I should. My Mom will be home soon.”
He smiles and his turquoise eyes sparkle in the moonlight. “Aren’t you Ellory Graham?”
I’m not sure where he’s going with this. “Yes.”
“The same Ellory Graham who punches girls in the face, sneaks out for parties, and has mouth like a trucker.”
“Yes. Yes. And Yes.”
“Well, get out here, we’ll be back before your Mom gets home.”
“But I’m in my pajamas.”
He quirks me a grin. “Does it look like I care?”
“No.”
Adam reaches for me. “Hold on,” I tell him. Then I check my bedroom door to make sure it’s locked. Just in case Mom comes home early.
I slide my torso out the window and He cradles me in his arms once I’m out completely and then he dips me forward and I plant my feet firmly into the earth. A strand of my hair falls into my face. I blow on the spiral curl, and Adam tucks it behind my ear. The tip of his finger lightly caresses my cheek and a rush of heat fills me up. Consumes me.
A soft seductive smile curls on his lips and I feel like I’ve swallowed a jar of bees. They’re buzzing around in my stomach. Adam makes me nervous. When I first laid eyes on him, I thought I’d loathe him for the rest of eternity. Now, I think I like him. “Where are we going?” I ask as he laces his fingers through mine.
My limbs tingle. I keep looking down at our hands. Another smile. A smile so beautiful and so perfect, that a flash of it makes me melt inside.
Adam guides me to a small slope in my backyard. He lets go of my hand and I feel like I’ve been ripped in half. I want him to touch me again. I want to feel heat surge throughout my body. I want to go up in flames. He pats and empty spot next to him. “Are you going to sit with me or what?”
I sit down gingerly. Even though I want nothing more than to be covered by a blanket of his arms, I keep my distance. There’s so much about Adam that I don’t know. There’s so much about Adam that I want to know. I tilt my head up and stare at the stars. The glowing balls of fire remind me of the fire that’s growing inside of me for Adam. The fire that began as crackling embers. Now the orange and red flames are a tiny smolder.
“So you got me out here,” I say as we face each other. “What are you going to do with me?”
He laughs, amused. “What do you want me to do?” He slides closer.
Instinctively, my arm shoots out and my fingers brush against his stomach. His abs protrude through his shirt and I feel like I’m a blind person reading braille. I push him away. “Nothing.” I’m lying. The second I touched him I felt a spark. Maybe even a sensation close to magnets being drawn together.
As he scoots away, an ache throbs in my heart. The darkness in front of me blurs my vision. I’m drowning in a sea of black. Soon my entire body will be underneath the dark, choppy waters. I look at Adam, who is looking at me. Again I replay the first time I saw him. I replay him laughing at me. “What are you thinking about?” he asks curiously.
“I’m thinking about the first time I saw you in the school parking lot. And how you laughed at me,” I say an edge to my voice.
He raises an eyebrow. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“I wasn’t laughing at you.”
“It sure looked that way to me.”
“I wasn’t. Trust me.”
I have a problem with trusting people. It’s not that I don’t want to. But after my father left, I built up a wall. I trusted my father. He said he’d always be there for me and he hasn’t been. His responsibilities as a parent don’t matter. I don’t matter.
A cool breeze whips through the night air. I shiver and rub warmth into my arms. Adam notices this right away. “You’re cold.” He removes his sweater and holds it out to me. “Here,” he tells me. “Take it.” I’m silent for a minute. I can’t breathe. He sits across from me in nothing but a wife beater as the moonlight highlights the defined muscles in his arms. He keeps his hand out. “Just take it.”
My fingers graze his as I take the sweatshirt and I look away from him, blushing. “Aren’t you cold?”
“Not really.”
I wrap his sweatshirt around my shoulders and his scent swells in my nostrils. I inhale deeply, cocooned in Adam’s essence and all I think about is how I want his smell on my skin. I rub the sleeve of his shirt against my cheek. “What’s your interest in me?”
He scoots closer and the heat from his body radiates onto mine. “You’re a mystery to me. I like that.”
“Really?” I slide over a little bit until our arms are touching through our clothes. “I was under the impression that you thought I was rude.”
“You are.” I’m not rude by nature, but I know I can be when I have to be.
The confusion of this whole scenario drenches me like a hurricane rainstorm. This guy is the type of guy teenage girls idolize. So attractive that just looking into his eyes could make a person weep. But that isn’t all. Adam is polite, educated, and at times sweet and caring. “I don’t understand why you like me. You could have anyone you want.”
He doesn’t turn his head, but he looks at me out of the corner of his eye. “You’re right. I could have anyone I want.” He reaches out and massages my cheek with his thumb. “But I don’t want anyone else. I want you.”
“But why?” There’s nothing special about me.
He leans in closer. “What can I say? I like girls who slap me around.”
A hushed laugh exits my throat. “So that’s it.”
Part of me is fighting the urge to kiss him. Part of me wants to hurl myself at him. He cups my chin and I’m overwhelmed with desire. I want his mouth on mine. His full lower lip entices me. I’m staring at it, wondering what it will feel like to have it brush against mine.
I lie back on the cold damp, ground. A chill circulates through me and I snap back to reality. Adam’s is a sorcerer and every time he looks at me, his spell has an effect on me. Adam lies down next to me and takes my hand. “What’s wrong?” I face him. His eyes search mine for answers.
My head snaps up and I get lost in the beauty of the stars above me. “You must hate it here,” I say changing the subject.
“No. I like it actually.”
“Really? I’d never pick Burton over Chicago.”
“In a city that big, it’s hard to get to know people.”
“Didn’t you live there your whole life?”
“No. We moved around a lot because of my father’s job. Before Illinois, I lived in Texas and before Texas I lived in Michigan.
”
“I envy you,” I tell him. “I’ve lived in this small po-dunk town my entire life. It must have been something to see as many places as you’ve seen.”
“It gets old.”
“I’d trade places with you in a second.” I prop myself up with my elbow.
“Are you sure about that?” He props himself up, facing me. “Every few years a different school. A different home. A different way of life. Trust me, you’d hate it.”
“No I wouldn’t.” He rests his free hand on the curve of my hip. I bite my lower lip, thinking about how I wish his hand would burn through my clothing. I want his hands on my bare skin. “You never answered my question.” Well, he told me he liked girls who slap him around, but that wasn’t direct answer. So my question is still valid.
He moves closer and exhales. His warm breath washes over my face. I sigh. He grips my hip. I’m unglued. I’m a flower and my petals are being plucked. Adam rests his lips against my forehead and longing for him to do more detonates in my heart. “You know why I want you, Ellory?”
He’s like a seductive god. Adam knows to perfect every touch. Every kiss. Every comment and every smile that would drive a female conquest of his crazy. I’m trembling. I’m losing the strong part of myself. “Answer it already,” I demand with a quiver of my vocal chords.
“You’re unlike any girl I’ve ever met and that fascinates me.” He’s so close that his lips are an inch away from mine. “You’re wild, reckless, and unpredictable. So many girls lack those qualities. Trust me. I would know.”
I don’t doubt that. “So what are you going to do? Try and tame me?”
In one swift motion, he pulls me on top of him. He locks my hips in place by gripping onto them. “Is that what you want?” he whispers. A soft, delicate whisper that fills my ears like a foghorn.
“No.” He slips a hand underneath my shirt and his fingers flutter against my back. I feel his fingers all over my body. I never want him to stop. I want him to touch me forever and ever. “I can’t be broken in.”
I’m lying. He’s breaking me. I’m in pieces. The wall I’ve built inside of me cracks, a thin fissure spreads along the length of my inner barrier and its seconds away from shattering. He cups the back of my neck and pulls my face to his. Trailing the length of my lips with his thumb, he murmurs, “You’re so beautiful.”
A Whisper To A Scream Page 8