I turned around and looked at him lying in the grass wide eyed and speechless. I had to wipe everything I had felt in the brief moments of contact off of my face.
“Jesus, what’s next? Are you going to flip a car over with flick of your wrist?” he said, wincing a little as he sat up.
“Crap!” I said out loud as I kneeled next to him. “Are you okay?” He nodded yes, looking a little more than irritated.“Krav Maga,” I said as I sat on the step. He joined me a second later still looking very stunned. “My dad came home from work one day, just before my thirteenth birthday and said ‘One of the guys from work asked when you’ll be legal. It had me thinking that other creeps out there are thinking the same thing. I think you need to know how to handle yourself. And I handled the guy from work as soon as we were off the clock.’ He showed me his banged up knuckles, but I knew that guy was worse off wherever he was. The next day he enrolled me in Krav Maga classes because his cop friend told him it would teach me to immobilize anyone who came at me, with deadly force if necessary. My dad doesn’t mess around.”
“Huh,” he said to himself. “Then I acknowledge that you can handle yourself. Is your mom tiny like you?”
“Well, from what I hear she was, but she died when I was a baby, so I really don’t know first hand.”
“Sorry,” he said with a sympathetic look.
“It’s okay. You didn’t know.”
“Is it hard just being with your dad?” I thought about this for a moment. The easy answer was no because I didn’t know any different, but then I thought about how I could feel how much my dad missed my mom each time he hugged me. That made the answer a definite yes, but I went in another direction. I looked at his house and nodded.
“There are worse things,” I said as we both stared at the spot where his dad had pushed him. He nodded in agreement as we sat there silently.
Chapter 6
I went inside to check on Gwen and found she had somehow managed to pass out in the bathroom.
“I can’t leave her here. Not with that monkey,” I said, pointing to a passed out and snoring Trey. “And I can’t take her home like this. My dad will smell it on her the minute we pull into the driveway.” Riley looked around as he thought of a solution.
“My place,” he said as if I was supposed to understand. I gave him a confused look and he went on. “We’ll take her to my place. She can sleep it off there. You should stay too in case she wakes up and freaks out.” It seemed like the only reasonable solution and I groaned again in frustration because all I wanted to do was climb into my own bed.
“What about your dad?”
“I guarantee he’s passed out in his wing of the house and he’ll leave as soon as he wakes up. Anything to not be home,” he said bitterly.
“Okay. Can you help me get her over there?”
He was stronger than I gave him credit for. Even though Gwen was complete dead weight, Riley had no trouble lifting her over his shoulder. No amount of Krav Maga would give me that kind of strength.
He nodded towards the front door and I opened it slowly, half expecting his dad to pop out and throw something at us, but his house was silent. Riley went in ahead of me and his footsteps on the marble floor of the foyer seemed loud enough to wake the dead.
We got to his room and he placed Gwen in the arm chair I had fallen asleep in a few days earlier. He grabbed a throw that was on the foot of his bed and draped it over her, being as careful as possible so he wouldn’t wake her.
“You’ll be a good tucker-inner one day.” I whispered. He smiled at that.
“I’m starving. C’mon,” he said, motioning for me to follow him. I thought it was risky to leave his room and move around in his house, but he didn’t seem to worry so I followed him.
“What about you dad,” I asked as we walked down a hall that seemed to go on forever.
He looked back at me and smiled. “It’s only 9:30 at night,” he said with a laugh. “I have people here a lot later than that usually.” He showed me the time on his phone and I was shocked. It felt much later, maybe because I was so tired.
“God, this has been the longest day ever. I should just go home. I’m sure Gwen will be fine with you.”
“No, don’t go yet. You at least need to eat something. I insist,” he said with his arms crossed over his chest.
I nodded yes and followed him the rest of the way to the kitchen.
I sat at the enormous kitchen island as he looked through the pantry for some food. We were both startled by the sound of his phone vibrating with a picture of one of the many girls I had seen him cozying up to. He tried to hit ignore, looking a little embarrassed.
“You should get that,” I teased.
“No. It’s not important. Besides, it’s impolite to take calls when you have company,” he said with a smirk.
The phone started ringing again. “I don’t think,” I turned it to face me so I could read the name, “Heather is going to give up until you answer. Oh, wait- I know Heather. Heather Michaels from my English class!”
“She can wait,” he said as he snatched the phone from my hands, stuffing it into his pocket.
“Do they ever get mad,” I asked as I swung my legs back and forth as they dangled from the high stool.
“Does who ever get mad?” He was pulling some cartons of Chinese food from the fridge. “Microwave?”
“No, it’s fine cold.” He handed me a carton of something with chicken and a fork and took the seat next to me. He had his own carton and was digging in already. I guess I wasn’t the only one who preferred my Chinese leftovers to be cold. “The girls. Maybe I’m making assumptions, but there does seem to be a lot of them. Do they ever fight over you? Do you ever feel guilty?” He held a bite to his mouth as he glared at me.
“They know what they’re getting into. I’m not out preying on innocent victims and making promises to anyone,” he lectured defensively.
“Sorry,” I said just above my breath as I stared down into the carton. He put his container on the island and tried to meet my downward gaze.
“Hey, I’m not offended,” he said gently. “I’m just....tired of this double standard. I know the entire school thinks I’m a man whore.” I felt a pang of guilt for being one of the accusers. “But the girls who hang out with me get treated like they’re so innocent. He grabbed his phone and started scrolling through his contact pictures. “See Heather? She only calls because she wants to score alcohol and needs someone to drive, but I ignore the call because I’m not into that. And this one,” he said as he showed me the next girl, “she only calls because she thinks I look good for her ego. Don’t get me wrong- some are fun to make out with, but that’s as far as I take it. I can’t help it. I love kissing pretty girls.” He tossed his phone back down and grabbed his fork again. “What about you? I never see you with anyone...aside from Gwen.”
“I’m just not really into the whole dating thing,” I said with a shrug. It was a lot easier than saying “people can’t touch me because I’ll feel what they feel and that’s crazy and exhausting.”
“Well, looked like Chris wanted to change that,” he said with an arch of his eyebrow.
“Gross. And no, he wanted to get laid.” I wasn’t used to this line of talking- not even with Gwen. She’d tell me about who she was dating and add in a few gory details, but she knew it made me uncomfortable because I worried that I would never be able to be close to anyone like that.
“Well, he’s pretty ambitious for trying,” he said with his mouth full. I took a bite and prayed the subject would change. “Who was your first kiss? Anyone I know?” No such luck. I chewed my food slowly to buy myself time before I answered. I didn’t know why saying I had never been kissed was so hard. I couldn’t make the words come out of my mouth, so I looked around awkwardly.
He put his food down with a shocked expression then started laughing in disbelief. “Jane St. George, have you seriously never been kissed?” he asked in between hysterical laughter.<
br />
“It’s not funny,” I pouted.
“I’m...I’m sorry,” he said as he caught his breath. “I’m not making fun of you. I just can’t believe...”
“The opportunity hasn’t really come along,” I whispered, feeling completely uncomfortable.
“How?” he asked, sounding shocked again. “You’re so cute. I can’t believe someone hasn’t won you over.”
“Sadly, it’s true. I have....intimacy issues.” He didn’t press me for details and I appreciated that.
“It’s pretty nice out. Want to sit on the back patio?”
“Sure.”
I followed him outside to a backyard that was quite possibly more grand than his house. It was the kind of yard you would expect to see people having high tea in, or playing croquet. He sat down on a glider swing and patted the spot next to him for me to sit at. The night was perfectly clear with an abundance of stars in the sky and the peaceful sound of crickets made my eyes feel heavy.
“Did you play out here when you were little?” I asked as I fought back a yawn.
“Sort of? I do remember pretending that the gazebo was my secret fort and I would bring all of my action figures out here to play with, but honestly, I don’t remember ever feeling like a kid.”
“I can relate,” I admitted. I curled my feel under me and got comfortable...a little too comfortable because my eyes got too heavy to keep open.
At some point I must have dozed off because I started coming to, little by little, with a content feeling washing over me. It was a peaceful calm that I knew wasn’t my own, and when my eyes fully opened I could see who it belonged to. I was curled up on Riley’s shoulder and his arm was draped over me as he played with a lock of my hair. I wanted to take advantage of Riley’s serenity, but I knew it was wrong and decided to pull myself out of it fast. I sat up, startling him a little in the process.
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I must be really tired.”
“Relax,” he said, placing a hand on my shoulder before I could move away. There it was again- the calm that felt like a drug. “It’s fine. It’s nice actually.” He moved his hand and I felt like someone cut a cord that was connecting us. “I never get to just be with anyone. Watching you sleep, and those little whimper sounds you make, it’s somehow soothing.”
“I whimper?” I asked, feeling mortified.
“A little,” he said with a wink.
“Um...” was all I could manage for a few long moments. “I really should go.”
“There you guys are,” I heard a very drunk Gwen say from behind us. “What are you even doing? Making out?” She started hysterically laughing once she said it and it made me turn bright red as I thought about the conversation Riley and I had. He shrugged an apology because he could see the discomfort on my face. I knew that was my cue to get her in my car.
“C’mon. Let’s go sleep it off,” I said as I pulled her along, not feeling much off of her, which meant she was going to pass out soon. “Thank you, Riley.”
“No problem.”
I stuffed my drunk and babbling best friend into my car and prayed my dad would be asleep when we got home. Thankfully, my prayers were answered and I was able to get her into my room with almost no noise. I got her settled into bed then slipped on my favorite vintage Ramones shirt that had been my dad’s at some point.
I tried getting to sleep, but gave up after a while and snuck out of the room with my laptop. I went to my search engine and opened up a bookmark Gwen and I had found a long time ago when we were trying to figure out more about my ability. We didn’t like the labels “sensitive” or “empath”, so we both started calling them “the feels”.
Most of the websites we first visited were full of lots of people who knew nothing about anything and then we found the SRC- Shrine Research Center. Everything there seemed scientific in nature and offered the most logical answers. I followed a few message boards but did very little participating on them. I usually just looked up answers to questions other people had asked, but tonight had me thinking of so many questions I needed answers to.
I started typing before I had any time to think it over.
“What do I do to control this? How can I ever have relationships that don’t involve the overwhelming sensations of another person’s emotions? Is that even possible? Am I doomed to stay alone for good?”
I read it over and thought that it was a little melodramatic, but I hit send anyway. I wasn’t expecting such a quick response, but a little ding told me someone had replied.
“Exposure therapy. It sounds scary, but it worked for me. The more you feel it, the more you can control it. My name is Mason. I’m always here to talk.”
“Wow, okay,” I typed back.
“Look, don’t be afraid of your O.E.E..”
“?”
“Overactive Emotional Empathy. I have it too. Want some advice? If you sense someone who is in a bad place do your best to walk them through whatever they are going through. Be supportive and help,” Mason said in his next message.
“I tried that once. I couldn’t save her.” I thought back to Callie and how she haunted my thoughts most days. I felt a little weird about sharing that with a stranger on the internet.
“That’s tough. This is brutally honest, but there was probably nothing you could have done. Don’t let that experience stop you though. Don’t close yourself off from people. Just makes the times you’re around them harder.”
I thanked Mason and thought about this advice for a long time. I wondered if he was right. Everything about it seemed logical, but the thought of interacting more seemed terrifying.
I slapped my laptop closed and turned on the t.v. to find something to numb my brain with. Before I knew it, the sun was coming through the living room window and I was slowly waking up with a crick in my neck from falling asleep sitting up. I tried to stretch it out and finally gave up and headed to the bathroom to splash water on my face and brush my teeth.
Gwen was still out cold and not even the sound of me pulling out a pair of leggings or rummaging through my desk drawer for a hair tie made her stir. I pulled my hair back and smeared on some lip balm and just as I was about to grab a bowl of cereal, the doorbell rang. I rushed for the door because I knew it would wake my dad up and I was stunned to find Riley on my porch. I caught him with his hand up in a fist just before it made contact with the door. We both stood there silently studying each other with the same wrinkle between our eyebrows, but he broke the silence first.
“Nice shirt,” he said. I had to look to remember that I was still in the Ramones shirt.
“Oh, thanks,” I said as I crossed my arms over my chest. “Why are you here?” I blurted out.
“I wanted to check on you both.”
I stepped out and shut the door because I didn’t want my dad to have any way to accidentally overhear our conversation.
“We are both doing just fine. How did you find me?” I asked. I was thinking about Riley’s giant house and I wondered what he must have thought about the paint that was peeling from some of the siding on our home.
“I know people,” he said with a smirk. “Did I catch you in the middle of something?”
“Cereal.”
“Excuse me?”
“I was about to have some cereal.” I felt a little funny for admitting it.
“I think we can do better than cereal,” he said as he rubbed his chin. “Come on. Let’s find food,” he said as he motioned for me to follow him to his car.
“Wait, you want me to go with you?”
“Yep.”
I looked down at my shirt and my leggings and back at Riley in his jeans and white tee. I decided I wasn’t too underdressed and slipped into the white converse I had on the porch. He was waiting with the door open and closed it behind me once I was buckled in. His car stereo turned on with the engine and I was happy to hear music I actually liked blasting from his speakers.
“I hope you like chicken and waffles,” he
said as we took off.
We pulled into the Welcome Diner and ordered our food at the little walk up window then found an empty picnic table outside.
“So, I went back to the party after you left last night,” he admitted as we sipped our coffee.
“Why? Were you trying to lose chromosomes? Oh, wait...you went for a girl.” He only rolled his eyes in response.
“Sort of.”
“And?”
“You know, I really don’t like Chris or Trey,” he said in his matter of fact tone. “Pretty sure the feeling is mutual.”
“I bet you’re all torn up about it, but you have to do what you have to do to get to the girl,” I said a little too sarcastically.
“There was no girl,” he said as he took another sip.
“But you said you went for a girl,” I repeated in confusion.
“I went for a girl. Not to get one.” He waited for his meaning to sink in before he continued and I silently prayed he couldn’t see me blush. “Look, I know you’re like some little mighty ninja or whatever, but I couldn’t let those douche bags off so easily.”
“What did you do?” I asked, dreading his answer.
“Well,” he took a bite, leaving me in suspense. “I had a heart to heart about how to win girls over with Chris. I don’t think he appreciated my advice. And Trey was passed out still, so I did this,” he said as he pulled out his phone and pulled up a picture. I squinted to see Trey on the bathroom floor with strips of something silver crossing his body. It was duct tape! Riley had managed to securely duct tape Trey to the floor! I almost spit out my coffee as I started to laugh hysterically.
“You did not actually do that,” I said as I gasped for air.
“I did.” He admitted it with a casual, straight face. “I needed to make sure he didn’t attempt to drive anywhere.”
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