Текст книги "Reclaiming the Sand"

Автор книги: A. Meredith Walters

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

-Ellie-

I was on campus finishing my homework. I was scheduled to have a meeting with Professor Au, my academic advisor to talk about possible class options for next semester. I had yet to make up my mind about what I was going to do.

I seesawed back and forth between excitement at the possibility and total denial that I could do it at all.

It had been a week since I had gone with Flynn to his house. I struggled with a glut of new feelings I hadn’t experienced since I was a child. I had felt more guilt in the past month than I had in the past fifteen years combined. Every interaction with Flynn brought with it wave after wave of emotion that threatened to rip me apart.

I had made peace with Dania, though it had involved considerable groveling on my part. She had been furious. Nasty words were hurled and I took them like I always did.

And even though I gave her the lip service that she expected, I was quickly growing tired of our vicious cycle.

Watching her attempts to humiliate Flynn last week had wrenched something loose inside me. I had been reminded of that day in high school when Stu and Dania had pushed him into the freezing stream by his house.

They had thought it was funny. I had gone along with it. I hadn’t stopped them.

I remembered the look on his face. He thought they were being friendly. He didn’t understand the calculated cruelty that they had planned for him.

I had played my part in it. I had been just as culpable.

But that had been the first time I had truly felt bad for my behavior.

By that point Flynn had become my friend. Sure, no one knew but us. I wasn’t willing to endure the wrath of my friends should it come out. But he had become someone important to me.

He was the only person who had accepted me for who I was and liked me anyway. He didn’t expect me to be anything but Ellie McCallum. And I had been such a messed up kid that his simple, unconditional affection became the balm for my tormented heart.

But my self-loathing was unstoppable. And it managed to destroy the only good relationship I had ever had in my life. It was my fate to push him away. To hurt him. To hurt myself.

And I had done that in the most destructive way possible.

But that day at the stream I had hated Dania and Stu for hurting Flynn. And it was my one moment of courage.

I had run off with my so-called friends, leaving Flynn freezing in the stream. But the sudden over powering sense of shame had stopped me. Dania had asked what was wrong.

I told her that we couldn’t leave Flynn like that. That’d he’d freeze to death. Stu had called me a fucking pussy. Then they started calling me a Freak Lover. And it had made me so incredibly angry. They had turned on me in an instant.

For a brief moment, I hadn’t cared. I had turned around and gone back to help Flynn. Stu and Dania’s taunts ringing loudly in my ears. And that had felt good. It felt right. Because I cared about him.

It was the last good day we had together. It was the last time I had spent with him unencumbered by my own shit.

It was the last day I had been truly happy.

So watching Dania’s passive threats had triggered inside me the instinct to fight and protect all over again.

And just like all those years ago, I had paid for it afterwards.

“I just keep running into you. If I didn’t know better, I’d think the universe was forcing us to be friends.”

I looked up at the sudden invasion of my personal space and bit down on my frustrated sigh.

At some point in the two weeks since I last saw her, Kara Baker had shaved her dreads. She was sporting a buzz cut so short that I could see her scalp. I wasn’t a big fan of the Sinead O’Conner look, but at least she had the head shape for it.

“Or you could just have a thing for stalking,” I remarked dryly, already resigned to at least fifteen minutes of asinine chitchat.

And honestly, Kara wasn’t too bad. She was chill and laid back, even if she was too damn nosy for her own good.

“Nah. If I wanted to stalk someone, it wouldn’t be a bitch with a bad attitude,” she quipped and I had to smile at her comment. She could hold her own, that’s for sure. I had to respect that.

“Fair enough,” I conceded and watched as she settled into the chair opposite me and pulled out a textbook.

“Whatcha workin’ on?” she asked, poking her pencil at my English book. I flipped over the cover so she could see it.

“Trying to write an essay on the fundamentals of personal liberty as found in the short stories of Kate Chopin,” I answered drolly.

Kara arched a blonde eyebrow. “Whoa, heavy shit. And you like that stuff?” she asked and I realized that yeah, I did. I was really enjoying my class. It allowed me to flex my brain in a way that working at JAC’s would never provide.

I didn’t have any opportunity in my everyday life to discuss the meaning of Byron’s poetry or to talk about the theme of greed in Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice. For the four hours a week I was in class, I didn’t feel like a useless failure. I felt competent and smart and Professor Smith seemed to think I actually knew what I was talking about.

Sure I’d always had Julie in my corner cheering me on, trying to build up my shaky self-esteem but I had never internalized any of it.

Until now.

“Yeah, I do,” I answered.

“More power to ya, I guess. I don’t have a head for that stuff. That’s why I’m going into political science. I much prefer the drama of lawmaking any day.”

Kara was a talker but it wasn’t overly obnoxious, as I had first thought. Her uncomplicated conversation was nice.

“So you’re going to be some Congressman’s bitch? That sounds like an HBO special waiting to happen,” I said, my lips curling into an awkward semblance of a smile. I didn’t get much practice at making small talk so I hoped I wasn’t rude or aggressive. My personality didn’t lend itself well to polite niceties.

“No way, I’m going to be the one making the laws, darlin’.” I snorted and looked pointedly at her baldhead.

“I can’t remember the last time I saw a female senator without hair and a tattoo up the side of her neck,” I observed.

Kara rolled her eyes. “Whatever. You’ll see. You’ll be voting for me soon enough.”

“You’d better have one hell of a platform if you expect my vote,” I said, looking back at my textbook, hoping to get back to my work. I had to meet my advisor soon.

“Legalization of marijuana and lowered drinking age for all!” she said, pounding her fist on the table.

I chuckled. “Well you’ll definitely get the pot head vote,” I muttered.

Our conversation dwindled after that, both of us getting back to our assignments. But it was cool having her sit there. She’d make random comments about her reading and I’d tell her to shut up. We had established a workable dynamic.

I looked up about halfway through writing my essay, my pencil poised over my paper. There was Flynn. He came into the library and spoke briefly with the young girl at the circulation desk.

He was dressed in his usual uniform of khakis and button down shirt. It didn’t matter how hot it was, he never wore short sleeves.

The girl was smiling at him and batting her eyelashes. Clearly for her, Flynn’s awkwardness didn’t overshadow his good looks. I felt a strange twisting in my gut as I watched her flip her hair and giggle. And even though Flynn wasn’t looking directly at her, I saw the soft curve of his smile. He seemed to like whatever she was saying to him.

“Earth to Ellie!” Kara called out, snapping her fingers in front of my face. I scowled at her, annoyed to have been caught staring.

She looked over her shoulder and gave me a coy grin. “Drooling over the hottie artist I see.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” I growled, pulling my eyes away from Flynn who was now gathering up a pile of books and putting them in his book bag.

“Don’t be defensive, then. You’re staring at that dude like you want to cut him up and eat him for dinner,” she purred and I clenched my fists in my lap so I wouldn’t smack her in the face.

“That’s a wonderful visual there, Kara. Thanks for that.” I looked at the clock on the wall and saw that I only had fifteen minutes until I needed to be at my advisor’s office. I started to pack up my books and shove them into my ancient bag.

Ever mindful of Flynn’s location in the library.

“I’ve seen him around campus. He keeps to himself. But I’ve heard he’s an amazing artist,” Kara was saying but I barely heard her. I was too busy trying to escape without Flynn noticing me.

“Yeah,” I said, distracted.

“He’s definitely a cutie but he seems a little weird. But I do like me an oddball,” she teased and I felt myself snapping back at her.

“He’s not an oddball!” I said much louder than I intended.

Fuck. I had the attention of everyone in a three-table radius. Including Flynn. He lifted his hand in a wave and I waved back before I could stop myself.

Kara’s mouth was hanging slightly open, her face flushed red. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I wasn’t trying to be an asshole,” she said, her feelings clearly hurt.

Flynn was standing at the circulation desk. The girl was still talking to him but it was obvious he was ignoring her. I got the impression he was waiting for me. So much for avoiding him.

I looked back at Kara and did the only thing I knew to do when I was feeling uncomfortable. I lashed out.

“Well stop being one then,” I bit out, putting my book bag on my shoulder and walked off. So much for our burgeoning friendship. Something told me she wouldn’t be so keen to say hi the next time we saw each other.

And my thawing heart didn’t feel particularly good about that.

“Hi, Flynn,” I said, knowing there was no way out of the library without him seeing me. And hiding wasn’t my thing anyway.

“I haven’t seen you lately,” he said, getting straight the point like he always did. The flirty librarian noticed she was being ignored and finally stopped her incessant talking.

“Flynn, don’t forget the rest of your books,” she said, interrupting. I thought about growling territorially, but I wasn’t quite sure where these unreasonable feelings were coming from.

Flynn didn’t bother to look at her; he simply scooped the books off the counter and carefully placed them in his bag.

“I can’t wait for your workshop next week! I’m coming with a friend of mine. We love your work,” she continued.

Flynn nodded and then turned back to me, cutting her off. I couldn’t help but laugh at his rudeness, which I totally appreciated.

Librarian girl’s mouth hung open for a second in shock at his blatant dismissal and then slunk off as quickly as she was able to.

“You have a workshop next week?” I asked.

Flynn nodded, walking ahead of me to leave the library. He didn’t hold the door open, instead letting it fly back and knock me in the face.

“Thanks,” I muttered, rubbing my nose.

“You’re welcome,” he said, my sarcasm lost on him as always.

“One of my conditions for using the art studio rent free is I have to provide workshops twice a semester. I have one next week. It’s on sculpting with unusual mediums. I’m using scrap metal,” he said as I hurried to keep up with his long strides.

“Wow, you’re going to teach a bunch of people to sculpt with scrap metal? That sounds pretty cool,” I told him, finally falling into step beside him.

“I don’t teach them. I sculpt. They watch. They try to do the same thing I do. I don’t like talking to people. I don’t like them looking at me either. Kevin says it’s a good step for me. So I’m going to try it. He says he might try to come up from Greensboro,” he said. And the long stream of information he had just given me surprised me.

He was doing an art workshop for students. His therapist was in Greensboro. So he must have lived there at some point.

“I’m sure you’ll do great,” I said, though my encouragement felt flat.

Flynn shrugged. “Kevin says so too.”

“Kevin is one cool guy,” I smiled.

“Yes. He helps me. He tells me when I do something I shouldn’t. My mom used to do that,” he said swiftly.

“What sort of things do you do that you think you shouldn’t?” I asked him.

“Telling people they’re fat or ugly. Or yelling when they make me mad. He tells me when I should stay quiet and listen instead of talking. He also helps me know when people are happy with me and when they’re mad. But I’ve learned some of that on my own. Like I can tell you’re listening to me because you’re looking at me. You’re not mad because you’re not frowning but you’re not happy either because you smile when you’re happy. I know your face and what it looks like when you feel things.”

I couldn’t help but feel good at his words. I grinned.

Flynn pointed at my face. “See, now you’re happy. And you’re happy because of what I just said. Why is that?” he asked, cocking his head to the side, his hair falling into his face, making him look so much younger than his twenty-two years.

“Because you know me, Flynn. No one else pays attention to my feelings like you do,” I admitted.

Flynn chewed on his bottom lip and looked at me. He never once met my eyes but he stared at me intently all the same.

“I like making you smile. It makes me smile,” he said, his lips stretching into a beautiful grin.

I hesitantly reached out and took his hand, the same way I had done when we were teenagers. I linked our fingers together, pressing my palm against his.

The first time I had done this many years ago, he had pulled away. It had taken a while until he was comfortable enough for me to touch him. And I wasn’t sure we were at that stage now. So much time had passed since I had last touched him.

But seeing him happy, knowing how in tuned he was to me, I couldn’t help myself.

I shied from physical affection as much as Flynn did. That was one of the many reasons I had felt so connected to him in the early days of our friendship. Neither one of us could handle the implications of touch. Both of us were so isolated.

But then we had somehow found each other.

And here we were again. We were still those same disconnected people that we had been years ago, only now a little older and a little more damaged.

Once again I found myself reaching out to the only person I had ever felt safe with.

Flynn Hendrick.

The freak with Asperger’s. The boy whose life I had made miserable before I had made him happy. And then I had destroyed him before I could enjoy the changes he exacted in my life.

Or maybe I hadn’t destroyed him.

Maybe I had only succeeded in destroying myself.

Because Flynn didn’t seem ruined.

He seemed healthier than he had ever been before. His confidence, while still beleaguered, had grown by leaps and bounds.

This wasn’t a man who had been beaten down by circumstances. This was someone who embraced life the only way he could. The only way he allowed himself.

I pressed my hand into his and gave him a slight squeeze. I felt him stiffen and then pull away. His fingers escaping, recoiling.

Flynn clasped his hands together in front of him and started that incessant rubbing that I recognized all too well.

I curled my fingers into my palm and clenched them tightly. I felt his rejection acutely. I knew it wasn’t his fault. I knew his physical limitations. I felt them as well. But I had hoped…

That was the problem. I had hoped.

It would be so easy for me to get angry. To reject Flynn as surely as he had just rejected me. To call him names. To turn my back and walk away.

But I didn’t.

I dug my nails into my palm and gave Flynn a smile like he hadn’t just hurt me.

He had no idea what he had done.

“Where are you going now? Can I walk with you?” Flynn asked me. He was still rubbing his hands and I wished he’d stop. His anxiety was catching.

“I have a meeting with my advisor to talk about classes for next semester. I’m not sure I’m going to go though,” I said, telling him the thing I hadn’t quite admitted to myself yet.

Flynn stopped rubbing his hands and tucked them into the pocket of his pants. “Why wouldn’t you go? You have to pick out classes. That’s important,” he said, as if it were that easy.

“Did you go to college, Flynn?”

Flynn nodded. “Yes, I went to Guildford College. I graduated last year before Mom died. I majored in fine arts.” I wasn’t surprised. Flynn was smart. He was talented. Even at fifteen I had known he was destined for greater things than Wellsburg, West Virginia.

“I never went to school,” I murmured, looking down at my feet. The pair of us must look ridiculous, standing there, neither looking at the other.

“You’re at school now,” Flynn said, sounding confused.

My shoulders rose and fell in an exaggerated shrug. “I don’t know if I can keep it up. It’s a lot,” I said, giving voice to fears that I had tamped down with a lot of effort.

“I don’t understand.” I could hear the frown in Flynn’s voice.

“I just don’t know if it’s right for me,” I replied almost belligerently. I could tell him that a sad, little kid, raised in the system didn’t have a chance for happy, shiny futures. That I had accepted that I would my days in Wellsburg, living with Dania, hanging out with Stu, Shane and Reggie. Getting wasted on the weekends and barely paying my bills.

It may not be the life I had hoped for, but it was the one I was given.

“You should do it. I liked college. You will too,” Flynn’s reassurance washed over me.

I startled when he took my hand in his. He twined his fingers through mine, just as I had done a few minutes before. My head shot up and I met his eyes. His intensity made me shiver.

His fingers trembled in mine but he didn’t pull away. Our hands were joined together, his arm stretched out in front of him. He didn’t move any closer. We did nothing to close the distance between us but his palm pressed against mine was more intimate than if he had been holding me.

“You should do what makes you happy. You are smart. You are beautiful. You can do anything. You don’t belong here. You belong out there,” he said. I was struck speechless. I never expected something so poignant from Flynn. He surprised me.

He pushed me just when I needed it. Despite his social awkwardness, he had given me the words that I needed.

His hand clung to mine and I never wanted him to let go.

“I’ve got a meeting to get to. Will you walk with me?” I whispered, scared that if I spoke any louder I’d lose my nerve.

Flynn nodded.

And he held my hand the entire way.

-Ellie-

“Where’s Murphy?” I asked Erin after arriving at the animal shelter later that afternoon.

Flynn had walked me to the Dunlop building and had let go of my hand.

“I have to go,” he said.

“Thanks for coming with me,” I had responded but he hadn’t heard me. He was already walking away.

I had met with Professor Au, another English teacher at Black River Community College and I told her of the classes Professor Smith had suggested. She had agreed they seemed like good options. I needed to make another appointment at the financial aid office to finalize the grants to cover the costs.

Then Professor Au had asked me, “Will you be looking to transfer to a four-year school for the fall?”

And even despite Flynn’s pep talk and the huge step I had taken by confirming my continued enrollment for next semester, I just couldn’t commit to anything beyond that.

So I had brushed off her question in my brash, rough way and our meeting had ended shortly after that.

But I felt good. I had been given some cautious optimism. And that was a hell of a lot more than I had ever had before.

I was in good spirits when I arrived at the animal shelter for my volunteer hours. I needed some fur and slobber and puppy adoration. It was with a dawning grief that I found his cage empty.

I knew that he was scheduled to be euthanized next week, though I had purposefully kept this out of my mind. I didn’t want to think about my big beautiful dog being put to sleep. But I couldn’t commit to bringing him home with me, as much as I cared for him.

Not now with my future so up in the air. Not when I was being pulled in so many different directions.

Murphy deserved better than my flaky selfishness.

Erin came up behind me and put a hand on my shoulder. I tensed and instantly pulled away. Her sympathy smothering me.

I was too late.

Murphy was gone. And I could have saved him. Once again my inability to make the right choices had cost me something that mattered.

“He was adopted,” Erin said and I was so lost in hating myself that I didn’t register her words right away.

When it finally dawned on me what she had said I felt my chest constrict.

“What did you say?” I demanded.

Erin chuckled but didn’t touch me again, though I knew it was killing her not to pat my back. She was the touchy feely type.

“Apparently someone came in over the weekend and adopted him. I saw the paperwork on my desk when I got here this morning.”

“He was adopted? He wasn’t put down?” I asked, needing the clarification.

Erin shook her head and smiled. “Nope, he was really adopted.”

She was already heading back to her office so I followed her. “Who adopted him? Can I see?” I asked.

“I’ve already put the information in the system and shredded the paper.” She looked at me with that goddamned sympathetic stare of hers again. “You know, it really doesn’t matter who adopted him, it’s that he was adopted. He found a home,” she said.

“But how do you know he went to a good home? What if they aren’t nice people? What if they hurt him?” I was feeling more than a little panicked. I thought about Murphy and his soft, loving eyes and laughing mouth. What if his new owners were assholes?

“I’m sure they’ll love him as much as you do,” Erin said and I drew myself upright.

“Don’t get carried away, Erin, I just want to make sure he went to a good home, is all,” I blustered, hating that she called me out on my feelings.

What was wrong with me lately?

But she was right. I loved Murphy. And even though, deep down, I was happy he had been adopted and I wouldn’t have to face the prospect of him being euthanized, it still hurt knowing he’d found a home with someone that wasn’t me. Even though I had the opportunity to give it to him and hadn’t because of my inability to commit to anything.

But that was the story of my freaking life.

Erin grinned at me like she had just learned some big secret. Instead of growling at her like one of the dogs in the shelter behind me, I turned on my heel and stalked off.

Murphy being gone left a huge gaping hole in my chest. I enjoyed the other dogs. Some of them were pretty damn cute, but they weren’t Murphy. And I hated how attached I had become to the fur ball.

I caught myself obsessing about his new family. I thought maybe I could get into Erin’s computer and see who they were. I had to stop myself from attempting it several times during my shift.

Because Erin was right. The who really didn’t matter. He had gotten out. Someone had wanted him. They had given him a home when I couldn’t.

I had to be okay with that.

I felt heavy when I left the animal shelter later that night. I was supposed to go by Dania’s to hang out but I wasn’t feeling up to it. I wanted to go home and curl into a ball and sleep until I could wake up and feel semi-normal again.

As if reading my mind, my phone chirped in my pocket and I pulled it out to see a text from Dania. We had maintained a tentative truce since our argument. It wasn’t the first time I had resented how she expected me to apologize for her behavior. But it was the first time I couldn’t let it go.

I had always been able to tell myself that Dania was family. I could repeat the same facts over and over to make myself feel better. She had helped me when no one else had. She was there for me when I needed her after being sent to juvie. She had my back, always. Blah, blah, blah.

But now those words felt hollow and fake. And I was beginning to see the massive holes in our friendship.

I opened the text and saw a picture of Dania holding a bottle of vodka and Shane licking the side of her neck. The text read, Get over here bitch!

I thought about texting her back and giving an excuse but I knew that would never fly and I didn’t have the energy for another round of fend off Dania’s crazy.

I wrapped myself up in my I don’t give a shit shield and made my way to Dania’s apartment. I knocked on the door and tried not to sigh as I heard the sounds of laughter and loud music on the other side.

It was only seven o’clock and it seemed Dania had a party in full swing. I heard a door open down the hallway and an older woman poked her head out.

“You a friend of hers?” she asked, pointing to Dania’s door.

I thought about denying our relationship.

No ma’am, I’m just selling Bibles.

“Yeah,” I said, already knowing what she was going to say.

“Then you tell her to turn her damn music down. I’m sick and tired of banging on the wall,” the elderly lady wagged her finger and glared at me as though I were the one being a public menace.

“Sure thing,” I said just as she slammed her door closed. I rolled my eyes. It was no wonder Dania was being evicted. She most certainly didn’t understand what it meant to be a respectful neighbor.

Hell, she didn’t know what it meant to be a respectful anything.

The door swung open showing a scantily clothed Reggie. Her short brown hair was sticking out on all sides of her head and from the glassy focus of her eyes, I knew she was on something.

“Ellie…” she slurred, pulling me inside. I took in the usual crowd of people. Some weren’t nearly as inebriated as Reggie, but it was clear that they had been at it for a while.

“Here!” Reggie shoved a shot glass in my hand. Normally I would down it without a second thought. But I wasn’t in the mood to party. I was feeling edgy and I didn’t think alcohol would help with the situation.

Reggie stumbled off and soon I was absorbed into the party.

It was soon pretty apparent that these get-togethers weren’t nearly as fun while sober. Danielle Davis, a girl who had graduated a year ahead of me was throwing up off the balcony. Shane was playing sexual predator with a girl who looked like she was barely out of high school.

I hadn’t seen Dania yet, not that I was making a huge effort to find her.

I deposited the still full shot glass on the coffee table and headed into the kitchen, hoping I’d find my best friend. Instead I was met by a group of tweaked out jackassess snorting crushed up pills off the phone book.

How many times had I seen this and it had never fazed me? Often I had joined in. Now, I curled my lip and retreated into the living room, disgusted.

I was surrounded by people I couldn’t stand.

I headed toward Dania’s bathroom. I wanted a few minutes to myself. I needed to think of an excuse to leave. Something that I wouldn’t get crap for later.

But I opened the door to find Dania fucking Stu on top of the toilet. Her pregnant belly bulged outward while Stu groped her tits.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” I said holding my hand up so I could shield my eyes. I’d need to bleach my brain later.

Dania rolled her head to the side to find me trying to back out the door without throwing up.

“Ells!” she shrieked, her eyes unfocused, her speech slurred. She climbed off Stu’s lap and ran over, throwing her arms around me. She seemed unconcerned by the fact that she was completely naked.

“Fucking hell, Dania!” Stu yelled. He started stroking his dick while I was standing there. “Now, I’ve got take care of this myself,” he growled. Dania giggled.

This was wrong. So very, very wrong.

I pulled away from Dania and stumbled backwards. I needed to get out of there. I couldn’t do this.

Not anymore.

“Where are you going?” Dania asked, following me out into the living room.

There was laughter and catcalls as she flashed the entire party. She put her hand on her hip and struck a pose. It was obscene.

I stared hard at her stomach, thinking about the baby that lived in there. The baby she was hurting with her selfish behavior.

She wasn’t thinking about the person she was supposed to protect. She was throwing away his life, just like her mother had done to her.

And mine had done the day she had walked out and left me alone to fend for myself.

In that moment I hated Dania.

I really fucking hated her.

“I’ve got to go,” I said and hurried back to the front door.

I could hear Dania’s laughter as I fled.

I slammed the door behind me and leaned back against it heavily. The vibrations of the music rattled my bones just as my thoughts rattled my brain.

I had made a million excuses for Dania. For my friends. For the way we lived our lives.

How could I do that? How could I stand there and say I don’t give a shit?

I had been numb for so damn long.

But every day, every hour, the deep emotional freeze was beginning to thaw.

And it hurt.

It was excruciating.

But it made me feel strong.

I gripped my keys in my hand and headed out to my car.

I didn’t know where I was going but I knew where I wouldn’t be.

And that was here. Stuck. Never changing.

It was time to do something about it.