Twenty-Three
Twenty-Three
We travel a few miles north, on a small road made up mostly of stomach-twisting curves. Eventually we find ourselves on a long, deserted road, bathed in the light of the midday sun. Thomas turns off the engine, and I leap for the safety of the sidewalk. I tear off my helmet and set it on the ground.
“You are out of your mind! Were you trying to kill me?”
He looks at me, amused. Extending the kickstand and parking the bike, he gets off before removing his helmet and fixing his hair. Only now do I notice the Kawasaki lettering on the lower part of the vehicle and Ninja on the upper part.
“I didn’t go that fast,” he claims, chuckling under his breath.
“If that wasn’t that fast for you, I dare not imagine what fast would be,” I answer, fixing my tangled hair.
He moves closer to me, shaking his head and moving a strand of hair behind my ear. “You’ve got no reason to worry when you’re with me,” he whispers. As if hypnotized, my gaze falls involuntarily on his full lips. Strange and dangerous thoughts sprout within me. I wonder if it’s all from the adrenaline I can feel in my body or if there is very simply a wild and seductive charm about Thomas that will never cease to put me on my back foot. “Come on, let’s go this way.” He takes me by the hand and I, stunned at the skin-to-skin contact, follow him.
We walk down a path through the trees and bushes, which Thomas pushes aside to clear my way. The sky above our heads, incredibly clear for a late October day, is crisscrossed by birds. The ground beneath our feet is covered with red and orange leaves. We hear them rustling with every step.
“Where are we?” I ask curiously, looking around as we enter the dense forest.
“Outside the city, beyond the edge of Chip Ross Park, isolated from the outside world,” he tells me distractedly, leading me who knows where.
“Wait a minute.” I pull my hand from his grasp and stop. “What are we doing in a remote forest outside of town?” I ask suspiciously.
He scrutinizes me seriously for a few seconds before saying, “Haven’t you figured it out yet?” I shake my head. He takes a few slow steps toward me, watching me predatorily. “I brought you here because I intend to fuck you in every corner of this forest until you regret ever following me.”
I look at him in horror, my heart hammering in my chest. “Wh…What?”
Seeing my disturbed expression he bursts into shoulder-shaking laughter. “I’m just fucking with you.”
“That’s funny to you?”
“Your face certainly is.” He shakes his head, then resumes walking with his back to me.
“Well, one never knows what’s going on in your head,” I reply testily.
“What’s the matter, Ness, don’t you trust me?” he asks mildly, looking around for something.
“Of course not. I’d be crazy to trust someone like you!” I blurt out immediately. Thomas turns sharply with an anguished expression on his face. He stares at me and with one stride closes the distance between us. He seems disheartened by my words.
He gently touches my cheek, and I have to resist the urge to grab his hand and squeeze it. “I’m not the best person you’ll ever meet, but you shouldn’t be afraid when I’m around. I wouldn’t harm a hair on your head,” he tells me seriously, his eyes fixed on mine.
“Okay,” I breathe apologetically. We move further into the woods, passing centuries-old shrubs and trees. “Do you come out here often?” I ask after a few minutes of silent walking.
He nods thoughtfully.
“Why?” We advance a few yards until the vegetation thins out a bit and we come to a small wooden bridge. I rush to lean over the edge, watching the river flow by below. It is beautiful, with the play of light and the reflection of the trees on clear water.
“It frees my mind,” he says, joining me at the railing.
“Frees your mind?” I ask, turning around to look at him. This is new to me.
“Yeah, I stop thinking.” He rests his forearms on the rail and watches the river.
“You stop thinking?” I ask, even more skeptically.
“Stop repeating what I say,” he snaps impatiently.
“Sorry! It’s just that, usually, people isolate themselves precisely because they want to think. You, on the other hand, do it to not think… You’re a walking contradiction, Thomas.” I shake my head, stifling a laugh.
“Do you think it’s weird?” he asks, turning to me. “That our brain does nothing but process thoughts. We think all the time, all day long. Isn’t it a pain in the ass sometimes?” I slowly shake my head.
“For me it is. Sometimes, all I want to do is stop thinking. There are people who cut themselves to do it, some people fuck, some people get drunk, some people do drugs…” He stares blankly, looking at some empty point in space. “When I get that feeling, I come here.”
In a way, I think I understand it. This place is for him what books have always been for me: a refuge from reality.
“Why do you feel the need to stop thinking?”
He gives a troubled sigh. “Because when I do, I feel free.”
“Free from what?” I’m asking too many questions, I know I am. But I can never figure out what’s going on in his head, and I want so badly to know. His hard eyes linger on mine, and I am unable to resist them. And, for a split second, I even think that he is about to let me into his inaccessible world.
But then for some reason he looks away and just says, “From lots of things.”
Disappointment washes over me. Bravo, Thomas. Keep it up. Keep closing in on yourself. We’ll make great strides this way.
“And what does that have to do with me?”
“What do you mean?” He bends his head slightly toward me, confused.
“I mean, this is your little piece of paradise, right? You should guard it. Or is it just another way to impress girls?” I ask, in more sour a tone than I would have liked.
“I don’t need to impress you if that’s what you mean. I already know you like me, I’m not stupid,” he says with his usual bravado.
“Thomas…” I laugh nervously and bend down to tie my sneakers as a distraction. “I don’t like you. Not anymore, at least.”
“Don’t waste your time trying to bullshit me. I can see it in the way you look at me, the way your body reacts every time I touch you.” My hands tremble at this observation. “We both know what’s going on here.”
I get back to my feet and clear my throat. “And what exactly is going on here?”
“I like you and you like me. But that’s all it is: attraction.”
“If that’s all it is, why are you so set on wanting to be my friend? You’re attracted to a lot of girls, Thomas. But you’re not friends with any of them,” I point out indignantly.
He takes a step toward me, coming so close that I feel his fresh breath on my face, it smells like the mint gum he’s always chewing. “Because I am selfish, and I’d rather have you in my life as a friend than not have you at all,” he admits without hesitation.
I shake my head. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“It does, though.”
“Then explain it to me; I’m all ears.” I cross my arms, waiting to understand.
He snorts and then decides to come clean. “I’m used to getting what I want, whenever I want it. But I suppose there are limits, even for a piece of shit like me.”
“A limit you no longer intend to push with me?”
“Exactly.”
“Why?”
“Because… You’re different from the other girls I’m used to being with.” He lowers his gaze, then raises it again and gives me a slight smile. “You’re funny, simple, and naive. A pure soul. I like that about you, and I want you to keep being that way. My getting close to you would ruin you.” He pauses, then adds, “And to answer your question, I’ve never brought anyone here.”
“You brought me…”
“Yeah, and don’t get any ideas about that. We’re here because I didn’t know where else to go.” He lights a cigarette and then sits down with his legs dangling out over the river. I shake my head and finally give up on the idea of understanding him. I sit beside him, and we’re silent together for a while. The river below us flows rapidly, and it is pleasant to listen to the splashing of water, the flow of the current, and the occasional honks of the waterfowl. Soon, though, the atmosphere grows heavy. I notice that Thomas is hunching his shoulders, his jaw clenched and his head bowed, as though brooding over something.
I want to ask him what he’s thinking, but I know he won’t tell me. I would like to hug him, to hold him tightly to me, but that would be inappropriate. I feel useless, I wish I could do more for him. Be more. It is for this reason that I decide to break the silence, even knowing I’m probably making the wrong move.
“Thomas…” I whisper after a while.
“Mhm?”
“Let me get to know you. For who you are, not who you pretend to be.”
The way he looks at me, like a cornered animal, cowering but ready to attack, throws me off.
“I am exactly who I seem to be.”
I shake my head in denial. “You don’t fool me, Collins. I’m sure you are much more than that. I’ve thought so since the first time I sat next to you, that night outside the gymnasium, and I got confirmation when you came to my house.”
“You should stop reading all those fucking romance novels. You’re getting a completely skewed idea of men and feelings.”
“Never. I’m sure that somewhere out there in the world, there are still men brave enough to fall madly in love with a woman and give themselves to her unreservedly. Fight for her, respect her, protect her from all the evils of the world. Make her laugh out loud. Make her theirs, for every minute of their lives. Just like in those ‘fucking romance novels’ that I love reading so much,” I conclude proudly.
Thomas lowers his head, grinning. “You are completely doomed.”
“So will you let me get to know you?” He stares at the river below us, ignoring my question. “I don’t really know anything about you,” I continue. “But you know a lot about me. I don’t think that’s fair.”
“It’s better for you this way,” he cuts me off.
“That should be my decision, don’t you think?” I draw small circles on the wood of the bridge. “If you really do want to be my friend the way you say, you should confide in me. At least a little bit,” I insist earnestly, after more silence. “Otherwise, this relationship will just be a big joke.”
He scrutinizes me silently, forehead wrinkling in a frown, as if he is mulling over my words. Then he takes a deep breath and, against all odds, gives up. “What do you want to know?”
I straighten up in disbelief. “Really?”
“I’ll give you ten minutes, you little busybody. But don’t get used to it.”
“Okay! Well, let’s see. First of all, I didn’t know you do tattoos.”
“I don’t do them, not professionally, at least. Sometimes I’ll do one if I’m at my friend’s studio, but that’s about it.”
“Did you take a class?”
“No, it was my uncle who taught me. He has a studio in Portland, and I used to stop by his place after school. Or before. Or during,” he says with a wink.
“Did he do your tattoos? When did you start getting them?” I ask impatiently.
“I got my first one when I was fourteen.” He shows me an anchor between his thumb and wrist. “He did almost all my tattoos, but the designs are mine.”
His? Holy shit, he’s a real artist.
“So, in addition to being a basketball god, you also know how to draw? You never cease to amaze, Collins. I told you that there was more to you!” I exclaim with conviction.
“Is the interrogation over?”
I pretend to think about it, tapping my index finger on my chin. “No. Not yet.”
“Don’t your batteries ever run out?” It seems that this curiosity of mine amuses him, because he looks at me with a tender expression, while still remaining his usual grumpy self.
I stick my tongue out at him and continue. “Favorite food?”
“What bullshit…” He shakes his head in resignation.
“I’m waiting…”
“Stew, maybe?”
“Really? I wouldn’t have thought so. I, on the other hand, love oven-baked lasagna. Mom makes it from this finger-licking, real Italian recipe.”
“Am I supposed to care?” He gives me a confused look, and I roll my eyes. I ignore his lack of interest in this conversation, and I barrel on.
“The ocean or the mountains?”
“You’re really making me regret giving you the opportunity to ask questions.”
I smile and try to move the conversation onto more personal topics in the hopes that he will let me. “Why did you come to Corvallis?”
Thomas rubs the back of his neck, staring straight ahead and growing suddenly tense. “I don’t know. I got the scholarship, so we went.”
“And do you go home often?” I ask in a softer tone of voice, trying to sound understanding rather than intrusive.
“Never. I haven’t considered it my home for a long time.”
“So, you came here to start over?”
He turns to look at me with his jaw set, making me dry swallow. “You can’t escape the past,” he answers grimly after a moment. “But I had been restless for a while already. My sister wanted me to stay with her. And I did, until I couldn’t anymore. Then I left. Leila decided to come with me at the last minute.”
“She turned her whole life upside down just to stay with you ? She must love you a lot.” I give him a tender look.
“I don’t know how, but apparently she does,” he murmurs penitently.
“Why shouldn’t she?” I put a hand on his shoulder and feel all his muscles tense up. But this time, I don’t withdraw. “You’re her brother, and you’re a good person.” I pause for effect. “Sometimes.”
“I know I’m not a good person, but I’ve been this way for so long that I don’t know how to be anything else.”
“Hey, look I was just joking… Of course you’re a good person.” But he remains silent, absorbed in who knows what kind of dark thoughts. “Do your parents know you’re here?” I continue. When I see him shake his head and stare at a distant point on the horizon, my heart aches.
“They must be worried sick with their children missing, scattered who knows where.”
“They are not, I assure you,” he says resentfully.
“What happened?” I dare to ask.
In response, Thomas takes a big breath and gets to his feet.
“Your ten minutes are up.” He wipes his hands on his jeans. “Come on, I want to show you something.” He extends a hand to me and I take it gladly, squeezing slightly. Even though he refused to answer all my questions, I’m happy that he gave me the chance to discover something more about him.
“Where are you taking me now? An enchanted valley?” I hear him chuckle. He leads me up a slope until we come to a stop in front of a giant oak tree.
“There he is. That’s him,” he announces, raising one corner of his mouth.
“Who is he?” I ask, looking around bewildered.
“The tree.” He slaps his palm against the bark as if it were the shoulder of a friend.
“I’m not following you.”
“My piece of paradise.” I let my gaze wander to the top of the tree. “It’s him.”
“An oak tree?” I ask, puzzled, and he nods. “You worry me.”
“Get up,” he orders.
“Excuse me, what?”
“Climb up.” He points to the tree and I look at him incredulously.
“Are you seriously asking me to climb a tree? What’ll you have me do next, find a banana?” I retort skeptically.
“I’ll think about it. Though I could just give you my banana; I’m sure you’d appreciate it.” He gives me a suggestive grin and my eyes open wide in indignation, my face in flames.
“Thomas!” I shout, hitting him on the shoulder and making him laugh with gusto. “You’re still a crude perv.”
He shakes his head and tells me, “You can’t see it from down here—it’s hidden by foliage—but there’s a little tree house up there. You’ll like it.”
“And how am I supposed to get up there?” I cross my arms over my chest and wait for an explanation. Thomas takes me around the tree. “You see this?” It’s a rope ladder, just barely hanging from the tree. “You put your little feet on the rungs and climb up.”
I burst out laughing. Hysterically.
“Thomas, that must be more than fifteen feet up! The last time I climbed anything that high, I was taking the escalator at the mall.”
“You’ll get to the top in no time, you’ll see,” he answers, unconcerned.
“Are you blind, perhaps? Can you not see how huge that thing is? I can’t handle that!” He looks at me with a wicked grin, and I redden as I realize what I’ve just said.
“Stranger, you’re really serving them up to me on a silver platter today.”
“I didn’t mean… I was obviously referring to the tree.” I shake my head vigorously. “And I have no intention of climbing this tree, unless our little jaunt today also includes a detour to the hospital.”
“I’m right down here. If you fall, I’ll catch you.”
If you fall, I’ll catch you? That’s it?
“Is that supposed to reassure me, King Kong? What if you don’t catch me?”
“I lift heavier in the gym.”
I see he never misses an opportunity to brag about his performance.
“Perfect. I’ll die splattered on the ground like a cockroach, just because some hotheaded egomaniac wanted me to experience the thrill of climbing a freaking tree!”
He approaches with determination and looks at me intensely.
“I said I’ll catch you. I promise,” he reassures me. I examine the oak tree from the roots to the highest branches with a certain reluctance, and I force myself to think of a good reason to give in to him. I can’t think of a single one. Yet, for some stupid, crazy reason, I do.
“You better hope to God that there really is an enchanted valley up there or I’m going to make you pay,” I threaten, poking a finger into his chest.
“And how exactly do you intend to make me pay?” he asks, looking down at my finger and laughing.
“I don’t know yet, but it will be terrible.” I narrow my eyes to two slits.
“Mmh,” he murmurs mischievously. “I can’t wait.”
I take a deep breath and try to concentrate. Then I think about the fact that I’m about to climb a tree. I cannot believe it!
With trembling legs I begin to slowly climb up, grasping the rope ladder in both hands as it sways with my every slightest movement. In some places, I even feel some resin sticking to my hands. Gross. I climb higher and higher, with the sun filtering through the foliage. After a minute, I stop to see where I am but I regret the impulse instantly.
Too high.
Too. High.
Another deep breath. I can do this.
“You’re doing great, Ness.” Despite the affectionate tone of his encouragement, all I want to do is throw a shoe at his head. Stupid, jerk-faced idiot. When I’ve almost reached the top, I catch a glimpse of a small wooden house, hidden among the leaves. I’m stunned—it’s so beautiful!
“I think I’ve found it, Thomas!” I cry out, elated like a little girl.
“Oh yeah? It’s not Wonderland, it’s a tree. How many houses did you think you’d find up there?”
I lean down slightly to glare at him. “Don’t you dare crap on my enthusiasm! Not after you forced me up a tree full of ants,” I shout. “And stop looking at my ass like you want to…”
“Fuck it?” He interrupts me, making me flush with embarrassment. I glare down at him, while he smirks.
Five more steps and I finally reach the house, wedged between sturdy branches. With a little momentum, I manage to climb in without breaking any limbs. Inside, I find a blanket, a couple of empty beer cans, some snacks, and a notepad with some sketches in it. I settle in, and, while I wait for Thomas to join me, I give in to my curiosity and examine the notebook. I find several drawings there, each one more incredible than the last. Out of all of them, I am most enchanted by a winged snake, a phoenix rising from flames, and some sketchy tribal designs.
A few seconds later, Thomas arrives.
“You’re fast.”
“Or simply more agile and less wimpy than you,” he answers with typical arrogance, snatching the notebook out of my hands and giving me an admonishing look for being unable to resist the urge to snoop.
“They’re beautiful,” I say sincerely, wiping bark residue from my hands.
He doesn’t answer me. Instead, we sit silently in the doorway. I pull my legs up to my chest while Thomas stretches his out, letting them dangle in the air. “Is this stuff yours?” I ask gesturing at the junk lying all around. He nods. “Aren’t you afraid someone will come and take it?”
“Hasn’t happened yet. This little house is well hidden by the leaves, and the few people who pass this way after a hike don’t pay it a lot of attention,” he explains, swatting away some midges with his hand.
“It’s like standing on top of the world’s tallest mountain and having full control,” I say captivated by the beauty of nature that surrounds us.
“Do you like it?” He smiles at me with a sweetness so unusual that it makes my stomach curl.
“A lot,” I answer dreamily.
“I figured.”
We spend the rest of the time lying side by side and, to my enormous surprise, I manage to extract a little more personal information from him. He tells me about the small group of friends that he used to shoot hoops with every afternoon as a child. How much he hated the Sunday lunches that his whole family attended. A simple life, seemingly quiet. Yet, as I listen to him telling me about it, I can’t shake the feeling that he is giving me a distorted version of reality, omitting some parts while changing others. Fundamental parts, which I get the impression contain the source of all his cynicism and torment. And I think that is the real reason he left everything and moved to Corvallis. In any case, I don’t want to push it. I’ve finally managed to get him to talk, and I don’t want to risk ruining the moment.
He continues, telling me about the deep bond he had with his grandparents, who practically raised him and Leila and had passed away five years ago. In school, it was a classic case of a boy who had all the capability but didn’t apply himself, he tells me. In fact, his steel-trap mind actually allowed him to goof off as much wanted, because he only ever needed to read someone’s notes to get everything. He had a girlfriend. Yes, indeed, Thomas Collins had a girlfriend. At the age of sixteen. The first and only one: Elizabeth. It lasted more than a year before they broke up, but they still saw each other from time to time, until he moved to Corvallis and broke contact for good. I pretend to be indifferent to these revelations, but I am actually burning with jealousy knowing that there was a girl who got to enjoy a privilege that he no longer grants to anyone. Finally, I discover that he hates licorice and that his life’s passions—besides basketball and drawing—are his irreplaceable motorcycle and his car, which he learned drive at age fifteen courtesy of his uncle. As he talks, he fiddles with a lock of my hair, a sunbeam warms our faces, the leaves move slowly above us, and the peace that hovers in the air makes it feel as though time has stopped.
“Ness?” He shakes my shoulder gently.
“Hmm…”
I hear him chuckle tenderly next to my ear. “We’ve gotta go.”
“What?” I slur.
“It’s six o’clock. You fell asleep.”
What? Six o’clock?
I sit up immediately, rubbing my eyes.
“I fell asleep? But how? When?”
“You took a three-hour nap.”
What the hell…
“I am mortified. You take me to this beautiful place and what do I do? I fall asleep.”
“Don’t worry. I didn’t wake you up because of the way you were sleeping. You seemed pretty tired. Are you sure you can stay on top of your work and school?”
The way I was sleeping? I didn’t drool, did I? Or worse, snore?! Oh God, please tell me I didn’t snore. “Everything’s under control, I just haven’t gotten as much sleep lately,” I explain as I check my phone. There’s a text from Alex asking how I am and two from Tiffany; one to show me the new pair of stiletto heels she bought and another to ask what happened to me. There’s nothing from Logan. It’s strange, ever since we started dating, he’s been texting me nearly every day. I reply to Alex and Tiff and stuff the phone in the pocket of my jeans.
“Why aren’t you sleeping enough? I thought you were a sleepyhead.”
He stands up, grabs the pack of cigarettes and holds out his hand to me to pull me up.
“It’s a timing issue. My shift at the Marsy ends late, and I have to ride home on the bus, which takes a longer route at that time of night. Same thing goes for the morning when I have to go to school. Everything would be simpler if I lived on campus.”
“There are still vacancies, why don’t you apply?”
“My scholarship money doesn’t cover funding for the dorms, but I’m hoping to be able to pay for housing with my salary from the Marsy. I just have to wait a few more months.” When I start to crawl out of the tree house and look down, panic seizes me.
“Oh God, was it this high when we came up?” My legs tremble in the face of that long drop. Thomas nods, looking at me as if I had just asked the stupidest imaginable question while I swallow with difficulty.
“I…I can’t go down,” I stammer fearfully.
“Bullshit. You managed to get up here, you’ll be able to get down.”
“Going up is easier.”
“Knock it off. In thirty minutes, you’ve got to be at work and I have shit to do,” he tells me absentmindedly, his eyes fixed on his phone, texting intently with someone.
“Thomas!” I squeal, like a child who can’t find the solution to a problem. He rolls his eyes and joins me, standing up with his back to me. What is he doing?
“Jump up,” he demands impatiently.
“What?”
“Get on my back, I’ll take you down.”
“You really are out of your mind!” I blurt out.
“You got a better idea, Miss Chickenshit?”
“I don’t know! But I’m not going to get on your back and increase the risk of breaking every bone in my body!”
“If you don’t get on, I’ll leave you here.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me,” he challenges.
“You would really leave me here?”
He doesn’t even reply. Impatient, he heads for the trunk, ready to go down.
Is he for real?!
“Thomas! Come back here! All right, all right, I’ll get on your back!” I see his lips twist into a teasing smile. Within two seconds, he loads me on his back. I wrap my arms around his neck, my legs around his hips, squeezing tight. We get into position, and I close my eyes as we descend. This ladder is going to break, I am certain of it, and we will both crash to the ground.
As soon as Thomas’s feet touch the ground, I release a huge sigh of relief and jump off him.
“Sorry,” I murmur, adjusting my jeans.
“For what?”
“I get a little unbearable when I panic.” I shrug, embarrassed to have appeared so cowardly.
“Don’t worry, you’re also unbearable when you’re relaxed,” he taunts me. I give him the finger in return, and he pretends to be shocked. We retrace our steps back to the bike. Ten minutes later, I find myself in front of the Marsy.
I get off, remove my helmet, and pause for a few seconds before returning it, just staring at him. “Do you always have two helmets on you? Isn’t that cumbersome?”
Thomas lifts the black visor to get a better look at me but remains seated on the bike with the engine running. “Do you honestly think I walk around carrying two helmets all day every day like some kind of dumbass?”
Okay, maybe my question wasn’t the smartest, but still…
“You had two helmets this morning before you even knew whether I would agree to come with you.”
“You were leaving, and I wanted to be with you. So, before I caught up with you, I quickly asked Finn for his helmet. How do you come up with this shit?” He chuckles. My heart does a somersault at this little confession.
The alarm clock on my phone rings and reminds me that there’s only five minutes until the start of my shift. “Now I have to go.” I jerk my thumb toward Marsy’s entrance behind me. “Thanks for today. It was…nice.” I really think so.
“Have a good shift, stranger,” he says with a smile. “And don’t let them ogle you too much.” He winks, lowers his visor, and leaves.