Sweet Dandelion

by Micalea Smeltzer

  I look like hell, I know. The force to my nose has caused two black eyes and purple definitely isn’t my color.

  He unfreezes and suddenly he’s right in front of me, taking my face ever so gently in his massive paws he calls hands.

  I see the questions reflecting in his eyes.

  “I was with Ansel, Sasha, and Seth,” he probably has no idea who all of them are, but his eyes narrow when I mention Ansel, “and we hit a deer. It sent the car spinning and we crashed into an embankment. I’m fine, I promise. Sore, but fine.”

  “Dani,” my name is a plea on his lips. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  I think of his unanswered text sitting on my phone. After Sasha discovered the message I was too scared to text back and with the accident Sunday morning … well, Sage has been a mother hen so it’s been impossible to let Lachlan know anything.

  “I couldn’t.”

  His face falls, but I know he understands.

  “But you’re okay?” His thumb rubs a gentle circle over my cheek.

  “I’m fine. Just banged up. My ribs are bruised too.”

  He looks down, like he can see the bruise across my chest from the seatbelt through my black sweater.

  “I’m so fucking sorry.”

  “It was a freak accident,” I reply, moving around him to sit down on the couch, my body craving the rest. Sage wanted to keep me home the rest of the week, but I wanted to get back to my regular schedule.

  “I thought you were sick when you didn’t show up yesterday or Monday.” His hands sit low on his hips. “I wanted to text you, but figured I shouldn’t.”

  I blow out a breath, looking at him with sad eyes. “This is so complicated.”

  “Yeah.” He leans against his desk, rubbing his face. His eyes flick over me yet again.

  “I know it looks bad, but it could’ve been worse.” He clears his throat, and I can tell he’s a bit choked up. “Lachlan, I’m fine, I swear.”

  He opens his mouth to respond, but at that moment the door flies open.

  He jumps away from his desk like he’s on fire. Luckily, we were nowhere close.

  “Oh, sorry for interrupting,” one of the secretaries says, “I was told to run these down to you.” She holds out a few files, her other hand still on the doorknob.

  Lachlan’s smile is tight. “Thank you.” He takes them from her, dropping them on his desk.

  “No problem. Sorry,” she says again, flashing me an apologetic smile, “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “Knock next time,” Lachlan’s tone is icy and rather rude.

  She pales, her eyes shooting to his. “Of course, again, I’m sorry.”

  She closes the door behind her and we both are silent for several minutes.

  Lachlan finally moves, collapsing in his chair.

  I don’t know what to say, so I continue to keep quiet. What happened is proof of how careful we have to be, because it’s all too easy to get caught.

  I watch as he opens and closes his fists, his jaw taut, brows drawn. My own heart gallops like a reckless horse fueled with adrenaline now that she’s gone.

  We weren’t doing anything wrong, but we so easily could’ve been, and in one second of time everything could’ve gone up in flames.

  Lachlan’s baby blues drift in my direction and his look of torture is a punch straight to my chest.

  “It’s okay,” I say, but I know it’s really not.

  He shakes his head back and forth, silent.

  Word vomit takes over, and I launch into telling him about the weekend trip, more about the accident, I tell him about the last two days and Sage taking care of me. But all it does is darken his face further and the pit in my stomach grows.

  I see him shutting down right in front of me and it’s fucking terrifying. We’ve come too far to backtrack.

  When the bell rings, it startles me, and I know I have to go.

  Pausing in the doorway, I look over my shoulder, “Don’t leave me,” I murmur.

  His eyes look back at me, the fear vivid.

  He does give me a nod, though, and I tell myself that’s better than nothing.

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  A few weeks later there’s no longer any evidence of the accident, except for the slight soreness still in my ribs, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.

  Entering the gym, I find it empty.

  Situating myself on the bike, I put my earphones in and start my playlist.

  Letting the mindlessness take over, I zone out for a while until my thoughts drift to Lachlan.

  Things haven’t been the same since that secretary barged into the room. It’s not like we were even doing anything, but I think the fear of what we could’ve been doing has consumed him. Even if someone saw him touching my cheek, that wouldn’t be innocent, not between someone in his position and a student.

  It’s nearing April, though, and I miss his touch so much my entire body aches for it. It’s not that he hasn’t touched me at all, we’ve shared a few brushes of our fingers, stolen kisses, but we haven’t lost ourselves in each other like we did New Year’s Eve.

  I want to feel his bare skin beneath mine. Trace the contours of his muscles with the tip of my finger. I want to feel him inside me, all around me, taking over everything.

  But with the wall he’s built back up, that doesn’t seem likely.

  The only thing that comforts me is that he still tells me he loves me. Sometimes whispered in my ear before I leave his office, other times on the street if I bump into him and Zeppelin, and if he can’t speak it he texts it.

  It’s like he wants me to know, despite his distance, his feelings still remain.

  With thoughts of Lachlan filling my head I forget to track my workout, and when I look down at the bike it tells me I’ve done twenty-five miles, which is way more than I need to be doing my first day back. I’d intended to only do a measly ten at a slow speed.

  Hopping off, my body is slightly damp with sweat. Wiping my arm across my brow, I take a sip of my water. This time I remembered to bring a bottle with me.

  Gulping down every drop, I head for the exit. Swinging the door open, I immediately bump into someone. My body starts to fall, but a big hand grabs me.

  “Whoa, so sorry about that,” a gruff voice speaks.

  I look up at my rescuer, a tall man with thick brown hair and a big beard threaded with gray.

  “Thanks for catching me. That could’ve been bad.” I would’ve ended up with a massive bruise on my hip for sure.

  “Take your hand off her!” I look over to see Lachlan marching down the hall in his gym attire.

  “What the fuck, man? She was falling. I grabbed her. End of story.” He looks down at me with warm brown eyes. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Satisfied, he releases me and shoots a look at Lachlan before he heads into the gym.

  “What the hell, Lachlan?” I fume. “I bumped into him and started to fall. He was helping me, that’s it.”

  Anger simmers in my veins, because I hate his furious look.

  “You can’t stop people from touching me,” I continue when he says nothing.

  His nostrils flare but then the fight goes out of him. A breath whooshes out of him. Running his fingers through his hair, he turns his eyes to me, looking a bit ashamed, which he should be.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m an asshole. I think…” he looks away for a moment before centering his gaze on me once more. “I think it pissed me off seeing him touching you so freely, openly when I can’t do the same. Not without a guilty conscience.” His hand raises like he wants to touch my cheek, but he quickly drops it, clenching his jaw.

  Tears sting my eyes. “I-I know this is complicated. But I’m eighteen. I’m an adult, Lachlan. I’ll be nineteen in a couple of weeks. I’ll graduate in June … it’ll be fine.”

  He blinks at me.

  “R-Right?” I say in a small voice.

  He looks so pained, and it fucking
kills me that I’m the source of it. “I don’t know, Dani.”

  “W-What’s there not to know?”

  His hands come up, caging me against the wall with one on each side of me. “Everything.”

  “Huh?”

  His lips brush dangerously close to my ear and I shiver from the sensation crawling up my spine. “When it comes to you, I don’t know anything anymore, and I’m definitely questioning what kind of man I am.”

  “Lachlan—”

  He steps back. “Because from where I’m standing, I’m the worst kind out there. Taking something that shouldn’t belong to me.”

  He walks away, disappearing into the gym, and I stand there lost, having to regain my breath.

  I want to tell him he’s being crazy. He didn’t steal anything. I gave him everything.

  My trust.

  My heart.

  My virginity.

  My love.

  All of me.

  I gave it freely. He’s not a thief.

  He’s not.

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  My birthday falls on a Wednesday, which means I have to spend it at school.

  Ansel hunts me down before first period starts to give me a chocolate cupcake with yellow icing, one candle sticking out of the top.

  “Ansel,” I take it from him, fighting a smile, “thank you.”

  He shrugs like it’s no big deal and not thoughtful at all. “I’d light the candle but if a teacher sees I might get kicked out,” he jokes with a playful wink.

  I close my eyes and make a wish anyway. He plucks out the candle so I can eat the cupcake. Taking a bite, I stifle a moan, because the cupcake is pretty dang good.

  “Here, have a bite.” I hold the cupcake out to him.

  “Thanks,” he says, chewing.

  When I look up, I spot Lachlan watching us and an ache fills my belly. After our run in outside the condo’s gym a few weeks ago, he’s been avoiding me. It’s not like he can hide from me during my period with him, but he’s been strictly professional, almost cold at times.

  It’s killing me inside, and I want to talk to him about it, but he never gives me the chance. The last time I tried to bring it up at school, he looked like he was going to choke and kept staring at the door like we’d be walked in on again.

  We pass by Lachlan and I try to hide my disappointment when I don’t even get a smile from him.

  “So, I was thinking,” Ansel begins, drawing my attention back to him and away from the brooding man now somewhere behind us, headed back to his office no doubt, “prom is coming up and we should go. As friends,” he adds, “strictly friends.”

  I laugh at him for wanting to make that very clear. Posters line the halls, reminding juniors and seniors to buy their tickets for the upcoming prom on May second.

  “I wasn’t planning to go,” his shoulders fall, “but it could be fun.”

  Sasha was asked by someone on the baseball team and I know she’s thrilled. She’s been telling me I have to go for the last two weeks.

  “I’ll buy the tickets,” he says.

  I roll my eyes. “I’ll buy my ticket.”

  “No, Meadows. I’ve got this.”

  I shake my head. “Whatever you say.” Though, I still plan to get my own. It’s not fair to him to ask me as friends and then pay for everything.

  We reach class and have to cease all talk of prom to get to work on our final major project for art class. We’ll have a few smaller things after this, but this will count for the majority of our grade. Mrs. Kline divided us into groups of four and then we were given a painting to divide into fourths. The section of the painting we’re assigned to paint will be done on a ceiling tile that will be installed in the front office at the end of the year.

  Pulling out the paints I’ll need, I get to work on my section. I’m nowhere near the level of artist the other students are, but I’m doing my best, and I don’t think my section looks half-bad. It blends fairly seamlessly with the rest.

  “Looking good, Meadows.” Ansel bumps my elbow playfully on his way back over with his paint palette.

  “Thanks.”

  Mrs. Kline puts on some music and we get to work. It’s nice to get lost for a while in the swirls of colors in the classic Picasso painting we’re recreating.

  It’s his painting, Girl Before A Mirror, and somehow it feels fitting that this was the one I was assigned to be a part of. That’s how I feel a lot of times, as if I’m standing before a mirror, trying to figure out who I really am, if what I see reflected back at me is true.

  My paint brush strokes over the tile, adding a second layer of color to a part I already painted, to help fill in some of the whitish gaps where the paint doesn’t want to stick to the tile.

  “Looking good,” Mrs. Kline tells me as she passes by.

  My cheeks heat under her approval. Art class has become one of my favorites. I recently had to buy another sketchbook because I filled the first.

  Ansel, overhearing her, looks up from his own tile and smiles at me.

  His brown hair flops over his forehead and with his grin he’s all boyish charm. My heart pangs with something I can’t understand, but once again I find myself wishing it was him I had feelings for. Things would be a hell of a lot less complicated.

  The last notes of the very loud, very off-key version of the happy birthday song that Sasha and Ansel sang, lingers in the air. Seth, of course, did not join into the festive song.

  The librarian glares at us with a warning, but doesn’t say anything since we’re always quiet.

  “You guys are embarrassing me.” My whole face is no doubt lobster red.

  “Us? Embarrassing? Never.” Sasha winks at me, digging into the salad she got for lunch. “Oh!” She jumps, bending to dig through her bag. “Here’s your present.” She slides a purple bag across the table.

  I take it with a grateful smile. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Shut up and open it.”

  I remove the tissue paper and reveal several small items. I pull out the first one, a teddy bear holding a heart that says happy birthday, the next is a lavender scented lotion, and finally a small jewelry box. Opening it, I find half of a friendship necklace. My eyes shooting up to her, she pulls out the other half from beneath her shirt.

  “Thank you, Sasha. This is … really thoughtful.”

  I know it’s only a friendship necklace, but it means the world to me to know I’ve made lasting relationships with these people. I never imagined I’d ever tell anyone at school what happened to me, but I’ve made friends in Ansel and Sasha. Telling her that night in the hotel was the best decision I could’ve made. She deserved to know, and I’ve grown closer to her since. I didn’t realize it before, but I was holding back, afraid of her finding out the truth. Telling Ansel early on is what I believe helped forge our friendship so deeply.

  I take the necklace out of the box and fix it in place. I hold the half of the jagged heart against my chest and smile at her.

  Words seem to fail me so I tell her thank you again and she nods her head.

  This time Ansel passes me a gift bag.

  “Ansel—”

  “You didn’t think I’d only get you a cupcake, did you?”

  “Cupcake? I want one,” Sasha interjects, looking around like she’s failed to notice them.

  “It’s Meadows’s birthday, I got her a cupcake. Not you.”

  She sticks her nose up in the air. “I don’t know why anyone would buy one cupcake. That’s a crime.”

  He shakes his head. “Go on, open it.”

  As soon as I peek in the bag I notice the prom ticket. “Ansel, I told you I’d get my ticket!”

  “I know. That’s why I went ahead and got it.”

  “Wait a minute, you guys are going to prom together? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “We decided this morning,” I explain.

  “Well, this is great. We can go dress shopping together!” She claps h
er hands excitedly. “I’m going next weekend with my mom.”

  “That would be great.” The last thing I want to do is drag Sage dress shopping. That sounds like my version of hell. He’d probably insist on putting me in something that covered me head to toe.

  “Okay, Meadows, open your gift now. Your prom ticket wasn’t it.”

  Seth watches everything without uttering a word. Surprise, surprise.

  From the gift bag I pull out a Lucite case filled with nail polish. My jaw drops and I look at Ansel in shock. “How did you know I love nail polish?”

  He snorts. “You always wear it, and it’s all over your room. I sat on a bottle once.” I laugh, biting my lip as I open the case, pulling out the various colors and looking at the different names for curiosity’s sake. “Let me tell you, when I went to go buy all this stuff I got some strange looks. But don’t worry, I endured it all for you, Meadows.”

  I can’t help but laugh at his dramatics.

  “Thank you, guys. Seriously, this has been a pretty good birthday.”

  “Are you doing anything with your brother?” Sasha asks around a mouthful of salad.

  “We’ll probably go out to eat.” Not that that’s really any different than any other day, but whatever.

  “That sounds fun. Your brother is so hot by the way.” She fans herself.

  She met him for the first time briefly when he picked me up from the hospital.

  “Ew, please tell me you’re not crushing on my brother.”

  She gives a dainty shrug. “He’s hot, I have eyes. Sue me.”

  I cover my face with my hands. “Shut up, I’m losing my appetite.”

  She giggles in response.

  Unwrapping my sandwich I take a tentative bite, seeing how my stomach responds. Luckily, I’m okay despite hearing my friend say my brother is hot.

  I only get half of my sandwich eaten before the bell rings, but it’s enough.

  We all toss our trash and say our goodbyes before heading in opposite directions. My stomach clenches with dread at seeing Lachlan. Though I’ve grown used to his distance for the past near two months, it doesn’t mean I like it, especially not with today being my birthday.