Текст книги "Emancipating Andie"

Автор книги: Priscilla Glenn

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

“Why aren’t you taking yourself seriously?” he asked, and Andie froze, completely taken off guard. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again without saying anything, and he shook his head slightly. “Why are you wasting away in that restaurant when it’s so obvious this is what you were meant to do?”

She continued to stare at him, completely at a loss for words, and he closed his eyes, frustrated by her silence. “You don’t even get it, Andie. You don’t see the world the way other people do. And when you let your guard down, the way you think, the way you say things…you make people look at things differently. You make people feel things. And I just…” He trailed off, running his hands down his face, and Andie took a step forward, holding onto the doorframe with her hand.

“Finish it, Andie,” he finally said, looking up and meeting her eyes. “Just…be proud of what you’re doing and finish it.”

Andie swallowed, her eyes stinging slightly. She didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the fact that her emotions had been on overdrive for two weeks, but his encouragement, his approval, made her feel like she would burst into tears. It was the first time she felt like what she was doing was real.

“Say something,” he said.

She blinked, looking away from him. She didn’t know what to say. How could she express what she was feeling without sounding overly emotional or saying something she’d regret? Uncertainty and vodka and longing and guilt and gratitude and desire swam through her system, a heady mixture that made her feel completely incompetent.

Chase exhaled heavily and closed his eyes. “You know what bothered me about your book?”

Her stomach dropped as she realized the rug was about to be pulled out from underneath her. “What?” she said, her voice so soft she wasn’t even sure he’d heard her.

“Your main character. She’s so ridiculously self-aware. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and exactly what she needs.” He took a step toward her. “She doesn’t wait for anyone’s approval. She sees so clearly what the best things for her are, and then she makes those things happen.”

“What’s your point?” Andie whispered.

“She’s you!” Chase shouted, startling her. “Jesus Christ, Andie, she’s you! You made her. You write what she thinks, what she feels, what she wants, what she believes. Don’t pretend that’s not you!”

All the breath left Andie in a rush, and she brought her other hand up to the doorjamb, steadying herself. She had never felt so utterly exposed and vulnerable in her entire life.

“Chase,” she stammered.

He took a step forward, composing himself, his voice softer but his eyes significantly more intense. “Why do you hide? Why can’t you just be brave and do what you want instead of what you think you’re supposed to do?”

Andie looked at him, and suddenly they weren’t talking about her book anymore, and they both knew it. She shook her head quickly, breaking eye contact, because she was terrified of what would happen if she didn’t.

“Chase, I can’t live the way you do.”

Suddenly his fingers were under her chin, lifting her face as he leaned in toward her, and for a breathless second, Andie thought he might kiss her.

“Have you ever even tried?” he asked softly, his warm breath washing over her lips, and then suddenly he was gone. Andie stumbled forward slightly at the loss of contact, her skin now feeling cold where his fingers had touched her only moments before. Her eyes focused just in time to see him thrust his hands into his pockets and disappear down the stairs.

That night Andie sat upright on her couch, fighting sleep for as long as she could, because she knew exactly what would happen the second she fell into unconsciousness. But the day had been too long, and as the three shots of vodka gradually had their way with her, she lost the battle.

It started a little differently tonight.

Andie walked into the wine cellar, and as she approached the nearest wall of wine, she heard the door slam shut behind her. She turned around to see Chase staring at her, and she smiled at him. “I’m sorry,” she said, and then all at once he was up against her, pressing her into the door behind her.

“Don’t be sorry,” he whispered. But suddenly, it wasn’t Chase. It was him. And they weren’t in the wine cellar; they were in the upstairs bathroom of the homecoming party. And he was kissing her neck. And even then, amid the unease that was beginning to swirl in her gut, Andie remembered thinking she was lucky. How she couldn’t believe this was happening to her.

Derek O’Donnell was a senior. No, Derek O’Donnell was the senior. He looked like a model, like he didn’t belong walking through the halls of a high school. A three-sport athlete with a wit and charm that won over every single adult in the building.

And every single girl in the school.

Andie watched him from afar, like every other ordinary girl. She had often heard him referred to as a “ladies’ man” by the adults in the building, but Andie knew that was an understatement. Girls threw themselves at him, girls that were older and more beautiful and more experienced than Andie. He was the untouchable dream. And Andie was infatuated.

Her mother once found a notebook of hers on which she’d drawn a huge heart with their names in the center. The rest of the cover had been decorated with the words I love Derek in all different sizes, styles, and colors.

“That boy’s too old for you,” her mother had said, tapping the book firmly with her index finger.

“No he’s not,” Andie had protested softly. “He’s in high school, just like me.”

Andie’s mother shook her head firmly, spinning the book around to face Andie. “You don’t love boys like this. Na agapas me to kefali sou, kai tha eisai asfalis,” she said, tapping her temple. “Love with your head, and you’ll be safe.” She straightened up, her eyes on Andie. “You love with anything else,” she had said with a dismissive wave of her hand, “you find yourself in big trouble.”

Andie had rolled her eyes at the warning. It didn’t even matter; it wasn’t like she’d ever have a chance with him anyway.

And then came that Thursday afternoon when he approached her after volleyball practice.

She stood there like a deer in headlights, absolutely stunned. Derek O’Donnell, talking to a freshman? And when he asked her to come to the homecoming party that weekend, she felt a thrill course through her body like nothing she’d ever felt before.

She begged Tracey to go with her, finally managing to convince her after a long struggle, even though Tracey told her that Derek was a “man-whore who probably just wanted to get into her pants.”

Andie knew it was just jealousy speaking. After all, he had plenty of opportunities to “get into the pants” of other girls. He didn’t need her for that. He was genuinely interested in her. She could just feel it.

She and Tracey lied about being at each other’s houses that night, and when they arrived at the party, Derek grinned. Every time he handed her a drink, he winked. And every time he put his hand on her back, her neck, her upper thigh, she felt bolts of electricity sizzle through her body. Being next to him, having him touch her, was unlike anything she’d ever felt before.

She felt turned on. She felt sexy.

She felt powerful, having the attention of this boy.

A little later that evening, Andie had gone to the bathroom, and when she opened the door, he was standing there. He backed her into the room and shut the door behind him, and at that moment, Andie was afraid. Afraid that she would make a fool of herself, afraid she wouldn’t know how to kiss, that she would use too much tongue, or not enough, afraid she wouldn’t be good enough for him.

She was afraid of all the wrong things.

He approached her quickly, backing her into the glass of the shower door behind them as he started kissing her, and as much as she tried, she couldn’t keep up. It was sloppy, and forceful, and her head kept banging into the glass door behind her.

This wasn’t at all how she’d pictured it would be.

His hand came to her breast, squeezing it firmly, and she tried to protest, but his tongue was in her mouth, making speech impossible.

Instead, she gripped his wrist and tugged. When his hand came free, she was relieved, until she felt it quickly slip underneath her skirt. Before she could react, his fingers were inside her. She flinched, standing up on her toes to get away from the pressure and the pain. Andie gripped his wrist, tugging again, but this time he couldn’t be budged.

“Can you stop? Please? You’re hurting me,” she mumbled against his mouth.

“Shh,” he said against her lips. “I’m helping you, baby. This is never going to work if you don’t loosen up.” And then his mouth was on hers again before she could even comprehend what he meant.

Her head was swimming, and suddenly he shifted his hand, causing the pain between her legs to increase, and she whimpered in spite of herself.

“Shh,” he said, kissing her again, the back of her head banging into the glass of the shower once more.

Somehow Andie managed to rip her mouth from his, and she turned her face away from him, pressing her lips together. His mouth was immediately on her neck, his hand planted firmly between her legs, and that’s when Andie saw her.

The girl was terrified, her eyes wide, all the color gone from her face and her knuckles white as she gripped the back of his shirt.

It took her a second to realize she was looking in the mirror.

By that time her skirt was bunched up around her waist, and she felt him pull her panties to the side. She hadn’t been aware of him undoing his pants, she hadn’t even heard a zipper, but all at once, she knew what was about to happen.

Desperate, she brought her hands up to his chest, pushing with everything she had in her, but it was like pushing against a wall. The cold shower door behind her provided no give, no escape.

She felt him try to enter her and she yelped loudly.

“Shhh!” he hissed, angrily this time, pressing his hand to her mouth so abruptly that her head slammed back against the door with a loud bang. She felt it reverberate through her vision, and for a second, everything went blurry. She wanted it to stay blurry. She wanted to disappear within herself. “You’ll like it once we get started,” he said. “You’ll see. Just relax.”

He kept his hand over her mouth, silencing her as he thrust against her again, but it was in vain. He tried over and over, the movement of his hips becoming more determined as he tried to fully sheath himself inside her, the throbbing burn between her legs increasing with each attempt.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to hit him. But she couldn’t move. She could barely breathe.

He jerked his head back suddenly. “Would you fucking relax!” he snapped, just as a knock sounded on the door. He froze, his fingers still pressed securely over her mouth.

“Yeah?” he said.

“Yo, O’Donnell, hurry the fuck up!” someone called through the door. “We’re starting the next round of beer pong!”

“Alright, gimme a second,” he said.

It was silent then, the only sound being the rapid thrumming of Andie’s heartbeat echoing in her ears and the muted sounds of the party on the other side of the door.

He finally turned back toward her. “This isn’t worth it,” he said with disdain, pushing away from her as he buttoned his pants. “Put yourself back together,” he added with an irritated nod in the direction of her skirt.

Andie’s whole body was trembling, and she reached down nervously, her fingertips gripping the hem of her skirt and tugging it down in shaky, jerking motions.

He turned to leave the room but stopped suddenly, looking back at her. “If you tell anyone about this, you know what will happen, don’t you?”

He stared at her as if he were waiting for an answer, but she remained silent, wishing he would just turn the knob and disappear. He turned to face her again, and her heart leapt into her throat.

“They’ll know you’re lying,” he said. “I’ll tell them you threw yourself at me. That you fucked me against every surface in this goddamn room. And everyone will know what a whore you are.”

He turned back toward the door, cocking his head over his shoulder once more. “And I’ll tell them you sucked at it,” he added for good measure. “So if I were you, I’d keep my mouth shut.” He winked at her before he turned and yanked the door open, disappearing amid the crowd and the laughter and the talking, the cheers coming from the beer pong table.

She backed up then, trying to get away from him, from the party, from the entire night.

This was the point she always woke up. She’d stumble backward, her back hitting the cold glass of the shower again, and she’d burst into tears, waking in tears that were just as real as they were that night.

But this time, as she backed up, it wasn’t a rigid shower door behind her.

It was warm, and soft, and comfortable.

Two arms wrapped around her, and instead of retreating from their touch, she leaned into them, closing her eyes and feeling the security envelop her.

“It’s okay, Andie,” Chase whispered softly in her ear. “I’d never hurt you.”

Her eyes flipped open as she bolted upright on the couch, her heart pounding against her ribcage. Her whole body was shaking so violently that her teeth were chattering, and she brought her knees into her chest, hugging herself as she tried to stop the incessant trembling. She wasn’t sure if it was a result of the dream itself, or the new way it had ended, but a cloud of overwhelming guilt descended over her, mixing with the fear the dream typically invoked.

The sheer weight of it pinned her to the couch, and she closed her eyes, trying to fight her way back to the surface.

After about ten minutes of deep breathing, her body was still quivering and her stomach was churning relentlessly.

She didn’t want to be alone anymore.

Andie leaned over and grabbed her cell phone, hitting the speed dial for his number. She just wanted things to return to normal. She wanted to go back to a time when she felt happy and secure and confident in her choices again.

“Andie,” he answered, his voice gravelly with sleep. “What’s wrong? Everything okay?”

“Hi, I’m sorry to wake you up,” she said. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine. I just…I need you. Can you come over?”

She heard the sounds of him shifting in his bed. “Now?”

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

Colin made a noise in the back of his throat as he stretched. “No, it’s alright. I’ll be there in a few.”

“Okay,” she whispered, and he ended the call.

When Colin arrived twenty minutes later, Andie was still sitting on the couch, her knees pulled into her chest and a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

“Hey,” he said softly, shutting the front door and pulling off his jacket. He was wearing a sweatshirt and track pants, his hair still rumpled with sleep.

“Hi,” Andie said sheepishly. “Thank you for coming.”

Colin smiled then, moving toward her and bringing his mouth to hers as he pressed her back onto the cushions.

Andie made a surprised noise against his lips, gently kissing him back as he crawled above her. She felt his hands push the blanket off her shoulders, and then his mouth was on her neck as he used his thighs to open her legs before settling between them.

“Colin,” she said.

He hummed softly as his hand made its way up her shirt, finding her breast and running his thumb over it as he pressed his hips in to hers.

“Colin,” she said again. “Wait.”

“What is it?” he said against her throat. “I’m here now, baby. I need you, too.”

It took her a second to process what he’d said, and as soon as she did, she felt like the world’s biggest idiot. Of course that’s what he thought she meant. What else would he think? She had called him in the middle of the night and asked him to come over. I just need you, she had told him.

Colin ground himself against her, bringing his mouth back to hers, and Andie brought her hands up to his shoulders, pushing him back slightly. Their lips broke contact with a tiny grunt of protest from him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked through his labored breath.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t…” Andie trailed off, running a hand over her eyes. “That’s not what I meant when I said I needed you.”

Colin pushed himself up slightly on his arms, and Andie opened her eyes, looking up at him.

“What did you mean then? What’s going on?”

She took a tiny breath. “I just didn’t want to be alone tonight. I had a bad dream,” she said softly, and even as the words left her mouth, she realized how ridiculous they sounded.

Andie watched his expression turn from perplexed to amused. “You had a bad dream?” he asked, fighting a smile.

She nodded beneath him.

He chuckled softly as he lowered himself back down to her. “Poor baby,” he crooned in her ear before he ran his tongue over the lobe. “Let me make it all better.”

“No, Colin, stop,” she said, shifting beneath him again. “I’m serious. I just…I don’t feel right.”

He pushed himself up onto his arms again, looking down at her with his brow furrowed.

“Can we just talk?” she asked.

“Talk,” he repeated. He inhaled deeply before running his hand down his face. “Yeah, we can talk.”

Colin lifted off of her and Andie shifted, pressing her body against the back of the couch to make room for him. He laid on his side and faced her, gripping her hip and pulling her against his body. Andie buried her face in his chest, and she felt him rest his chin on the top of her head.

“What was the dream about?”

Andie closed her eyes, shaking her head slightly. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she mumbled into his shirt, and she felt him take a deep breath before he exhaled heavily.

She could tell he was disappointed, although she wasn’t sure if it was because she had made him come to her apartment in the middle of the night over a dream she wouldn’t even tell him about, or because he thought he was coming over for sex and just got turned down.

She felt like she should give him something, she just didn’t know what. She knew she couldn’t bring herself to have sex with him, though. Not right now, with her emotions jumbled up the way they were. And she definitely wasn’t ready to talk about the dream.

Andie had been keeping so many things from him lately, and she couldn’t help but feel like the only way to make it better would be to offer something of herself up to him in this moment. Maybe doing so, even if it were the smallest thing, might be a step in the right direction.

One step closer to the way things used to be.

“I want to write a book,” she said suddenly, holding her breath as she waited for his response.

Colin reached up and smoothed his hand over the back of her head. “What kind of book?”

Andie felt her heart pick up as she smiled into his shirt. “A love story.”

He shifted beside her, pressing his lips against the crown of her head as he laughed softly. “You’re cute.”

Her smile dropped, and her heart immediately followed. “I’m cute?”

Colin nodded against her, kissing her head again.

“How is that cute?” she asked hollowly.

He leaned back, putting his fingers under her chin and forcing her to look up at him. “Don’t sound so wounded. I’m paying you a compliment.”

“Not really,” she said, looking up at him. “I don’t want to be called cute. I want to be taken seriously.”

“Okay,” he said, running the backs of his fingers over her cheek. “Well, if writing is what you want to do, then why not apply to some magazines, or a local newspaper?”

Andie blinked up at him, and he added, “If you want to be taken seriously, I just don’t see love stories as the way to go. It will be much more gratifying if you write something that has some substance, you know? Something people can respect.”

She continued to stare up at him and he smiled, leaning down and pressing his lips to her forehead before tucking her head back underneath his chin.

She could have argued. She wanted to argue, but she didn’t have it in her. His words had taken all the fight out of her, and with it, the shred of hope that momentarily flared in her chest when he showed interest in the idea of her becoming a writer.

After all, there was no point in arguing with him. Deep down, she had expected this very reaction. This was Colin. He was realistic. He was practical. He was levelheaded. He made well-thought-out decisions that involved little or no risk. She knew this about him. She loved this about him.

She thought she loved this about him.

All she had wanted tonight was some peace of mind, some reassurance that this confusion was just a phase, that she and Colin were going to be okay.

But as she lay there in his arms, she wasn’t sure that was true anymore.

Andie closed her eyes, trying to focus on the traits she had always found so appealing in him. That steadfast and unyielding logic that used to make her feel comforted, reassured.

Stable.

Instead, she felt unsettled. She felt frustrated. And as she pressed her lips together, fighting the growing sting behind her eyes, she realized that above everything else, she felt like she was smothering.